How about a drink?

SAT. 7/29DOT DASH FESTIVAL YEAR IV
ROCKET FROM THE TOMBS
THE LITTLE KILLERS
DC SNIPERS
ANGRY ANGLES
IMAGINARY ICONS

Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs

Missing The World Cup? How About a Song?
He's Fat
He's Bald
He Likes his women old!
its Wayne Rooney
its Wayne Rooney

hes fat
hes scouse
hell fukin rob your house
its wayne rooney

hes near
hes far
hell fukin steal yer car
its wayne rooney

hes fat
hes red
hell take yer gran to bed
its wayne rooney

he fat
she's scum
he's probably shagged your mum
wayne rooney
wayne rooney

hes fat
hes round
he bounces up and down
its wayne rooney

he shot
he missed
he must be fuckin pissed

wayne rooney wayne rooney
wayne rooney is a virgin
he's never used his d**k
he w**ks in the shower
and sleeps in his own sick
he throws up to the left
and he throws up to the right
and he couldn't pulla bird
if he tried all fucking night

Build a brothel
Build a brothel
Put Wayne Rooney on the Top
A load of Grannies in the middle
and he'll shag the fucking lot!!!!!!!!

hell be coming round the mountain with a gun
Cos Rooney shagged her Nanna up the bum
He got himself a hooker
Who knew a red nosed fucker
Now fat bastard playing for the scum!!"

The Old Man and The Sea

Pops retires tomorrow, but he couldn't leave without sticking it to the indie music scene...

Shop now...

http://silkwormtributerecord.com/

I've been listening to a lot of metal lately: Slayer, Mastodon, Metallica, High on Fire, Boris. I find it's easier to enjoy when you're alone and no one can say, "What are you, 12?" There's something about a fat, chunky metal riff that just screams junior high school, but if you can suspend consciousness and move through that knee jerk connotation, you can have yourself a lonely time, especially if you're wearing eyeliner and black studded chaps with the shades down.

I just can't care about the Giants- again. After hockey and World Cup, watching baseball is like trying to relate to indie rock. At this stage, the gulf widens.

I'm developing an Existentialism in Literature course and I'm struggling to find accessible fare- here's what's made the go list so far, but methinks it is too heavy for the whippersnappers- Camus' The Stranger and essays, Sartre's No Exit and The Flies, Dostoyevsky's Notes from Underground, Kafka's The Penal Colony and Metamorphosis, Jehovah's Book of Job, parts of Kundera's The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, The Seventh Seal, plus essay passages from the usual suspects. Granted, a pretty standard list, so what I'm looking for are ideas outside the despair box. Find me a new dread angle, Johnson.

The Shield is good television, but Deadwood is the greatest show ever made- its quality is aggressively unrelenting.

I really want to go to Ozzfest- not for the music, but for the people-watching and to see fans actually do something more than stand there. But mostly for the metal chicks. I mean, really.

hey I just read news for the first time in 5 days; israel is bringing down the hammer! let's hear it for the boys! maybe this will bring Sharon out of his coma!

What's going on in Oakland right now?

What I Learned in Holland
Rein Jr. can still drink me under the table, and his time in Australia has only strengthened his endurance. I did not represent the middle-aged with style or grace.

Holland has extremely rich people who live in large mansions with expansive lots. You don't know this because they hide them in forests to maintain the illusion that they've crafted a classless society. Many of these homes have Roman pillars, which confirms for me that the anti-Americanism seeping through the veins of 98% of Dutchies under the age of 40 stems from a latent desire to be the empire-builder. This is not insightful, I'll grant you, but doric columns were the hard evidence I needed.

I was sitting in Nicole's parents backyard sweating out the previous night's 9 percenters when I noticed two teenage girls laughing hysterically as they strutted up the street. I pulled myself out of the lounger and waddled out to the driveway to see Lars in all his circumcised glory, posing nude for all comers. Actually, I'm surprised those girls weren't screaming in shock and awe.

How far are we going to take the theory that a national football team's style of play is an illustration of national character? The Italians play disciplined defense for god's sake- shouldn't that end the discussion?

Belgian beer is still really fucking good.

Running through the sprinklers is still a source of unfettered joy, especially when god turns the fuck-you oven on the continent.

Apparently, United Airlines is now staffed by every bitter, middle-aged secretary whose father never loved her enough and whose every utterance is ridden with self-pity and indignation.

And one final question: how did Ken Lay do it?

My 2006 World Cup Prediction!!!