Tokyo Damage Report

need some help!

First, good news;  Kanjidamage now has official Anki cards, courtesy of a user named miwuc.

https://ankiweb.net/shared/info/748570187

 

Thanks, miwuc!

 

Bad news is, I’m stuck in a damn vicious circle.  Nobody comes to this site anymore, which diminishes my incentive to post, which causes people not to come. But also, more imortantly;  i’m now up against all of social media.

So that explains why I’m not posting.

 

The OTHER  good news is, I have hundreds of new posts written, enough to fill a book, or half a book if you just count the good stuff.   Everything from dead-serious politics to fiction, jokes, lists, fake bands, imaginary tv shows, skits, and so many many many descriptions of anthropology experiments I’d like to conduct if I were an eccentric millionaire.

But – and this is where you people come in – what the fuck should I DO with it?

Start a new wordpress which even fewer people will read?

Post everything on Facebook and then spend an hour a day ‘liking’ dumb peoples’  updates about their Starbucks or their kids or whatever, hoping they’ll ‘like’ my posts back?

Send emails to semi-famous left-wing authors that I have never met, urging them to read and promote me?  (Dear Naomi Fucking Klein, I am your biggest fan! I’m sure you hear that all the time, but in my case it’s the truth! Just like your books! Now that I’ve checked out YOUR books. . .)

Tap into some existing community or online network of users that routinely reads / comments on each others’ blogs?

To me that seems the most plausable!

But where is there a community for people into Peak Oil politics…

AND Slayer jokes…

AND   5,000-word analyses of fictional musical subcultures….

AND  Pynchonesque conspiracy theories based on the cryptic memorial inscriptions of park benches….

AND like seriously over a thousand fake names for fictional characters (for example; Mallomar Curvature, P.I., Duuche Finkubus, Flab Gander, Gunter Fembott, DelMar Multiple-Hyena)…
AND  long serious essays about the  blind spots in human cognition . . .

AND  absurd one-liners like ” . . . as you leave a store where you were a polite customer, give a real mean glare to the first  person you see outside and tell’em,  “You didn’t see NOTHING!””

To me the diversity of my material is the strength but in today’s micro-targeted user-demographic search-engine-algorythm age, the diversity is a fucking liability.

 

I’m convinced, though, there ARE some readers out there who are just as pissed off and random as I am that WOULD like to read some shit like that.  You yourself are evidence of this.   So how to  get “hits”, as they used to say in the 90s?

 

(I realize that this is a fairly common problem in this day and age, and obviously nobody’s solved it otherwise the solution would itself be ‘the next facebook’ with all the problems that come with THAT .  . . .)

That said, I’m not expecting to make any money or get like a million hits or be some Huffpo columnist.  If I could get back to where THIS site was 10 years ago, I’d be happy. That’s what makes me think this goal is do-able.

 

Leave suggestions in the comments, or email me if you know my shit, Osbourne Cox.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4 comments

exhausting bars, new rap album

 

This collects all my dad-rap from the past 3 years.  It’s divided into two halves;  the ignorant half and then the smart half.  See if you can tell which is which.

go to the bandcamp page for all the lyrics! Here is just a small sample;;

your heart is black with rage and pain
your music is wack like Dave Mustaine
wrecking your brain with oxycontin
fucked up your teeth like Jhonny Rotten
i ain’t forgotten about Joey Ramone
between him and Sean MacGowan they got one molar
your brother’s a hore, like David Lee Roth
motherfuckers can’t see me like Jimmy Hoffa
like John Maclaughlin my style’s baffling, like
a world where ‘hobbit’ and ‘halflings’ are antonyms.
wanna battle him? wanna slather him with demi glace?
your mama’s fanny graced with more moles than Lemmy’s face
yo in any case, it’s remarked that you’re a whore’s son
noshing on your vomit not unlike Jim Morrison
i swear on Mi Corazon, i’m sick of your yik-yak!
go ask Jayne County where your dick at
with a thick stack of Pitbull / Mike Vic slash fic
for a quick jack to the sick acts
i ain’t dig that, (BDP: ‘that’s wick wack!’),
motherfucker git back before i click-clack
you’re about to have a mishap
it’s behavior such as this that
makes you the object lesson of many a Chick Tract.

 

 

1 comment

it’s great to post these everywhere

some text

some text

1 comment

links to older posts you never read

if you think i’m in bad taste NOW, just read these rants from 2009-10

 

http://www.hellodamage.com/top/2009/02/16/bikes-and-san-francisco/

 

http://www.hellodamage.com/top/2010/02/09/parents-and-children-in-the-future/

 

http://www.hellodamage.com/top/2010/05/28/2010-fatwazzz-rube-goldberg%E2%80%99s-inferno/

 

 

Tell me half of that  Parents-and-children rant isn’t already coming true!

 

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New Rapping Lyrics; M.D.C. (More Dead Celebrities)

still finishing the music but for now here’s just the lyrics.

M.D.C. MORE DEAD CELEBRITIES

your heart is black with rage and pain
your music is wack like Dave Mustaine
wrecking your brain with oxycontin
fucked up your teeth like Jhonny Rotten
i ain’t forgotten about Joey Ramone
between him and Sean MacGowan they got one molar
your brother’s a whore, like David Lee Roth
motherfuckers can’t see me like Jimmy Hoffa
like John Maclaughlin my style’s baffling, like
a world where ‘hobbit’ and ‘halflings’ are antonyms.
wanna battle him? wanna slather him with demi glace?
your mama’s fanny graced with more moles than Lemmy’s face!!
yo in any case, it’s remarked that you’re a whore’s son
chewing your vomit not unlike Jim Morrison
i swear on Mi Corazon, i’m sick of your yik-yak!
go ask Jayne County where your dick at
with a thick stack of Pitbull / Mike Vic slash fic
for a quick jack to the sick acts
i ain’t dig that, (BDP: ‘that’s wick wack!’),
motherfucker git back before i click-clack
you’re about to have a mishap
it’s behavior such as this that
makes you the object lesson of many a Chick Tract.
consider a tic-tac, your breath makes me nervous
i know you ain’t smell like Big Lurch on purpose
Odor like you had thirds-of orangutan po’boys
your deviated septum is quite David Bovoid
your shape is ovoid like the Loaf of Meat
the Buffy of gnocchi you can not un-eat
history is replete with lessons of woe,
your story is worse than Kevin DuBrow
just lettin’ you know , you blow like a homecomiING queen
catch a dick in your neck like Bruce Springsteen
((*steve albini voice* really, right in the side of the neck, it just came out of nowhere. . . . like some PUD BLOWPIPE was in effect))

in your dreams i bring-scenes of doom like a harbinger
starvin ya to death like uh Karen Carpenter.  Fuck a viral
marketer, go market Ebola, ya fad pimp!
fuck white power too ; i pummel skins like Abaddon
insane like Aladdin, your pain gives me a sad-on
ladies don’t love me but i don’t have to keep my hat on.
go eat fifteen asses, eat around about ten dicks
i’ll set you on fire like  take a wild guess, Sherlock.
rupture your appendix with a fossilized gopher
your self esteem’s just a fantasy like Aldo Nova
i cross over like Run-D. and Aerosmith
a cross between carelessness and total embarassment
unlike Kyle from Incantation you got a hairless lip
all the fads and the brands, i’m on the couldn’t-care-less-tip
in all fairness, bitch, the point is moot
instamatic Nirvana, just point and shoot
wear a haz-mat suit when you see-mee-whylin’
i’m side-arming that dook like . . . uhh .. .

(aw, fuck! who’s an old rocker who’s known to side-arm a deuce AND rhymes with see-me-whylin’?)

(Oh yeah! So obvious! Here we go )

. . . .  like P. D. Collins!

arcing pee-pee at Rollins and lackadasically fling
a string of semisolid sharts at the hated Sting
that’s one of the things you can call a ‘malice pooper’
as you swap codpieces with whom? (Alice Cooper)
you’re in it for lucre, you:re much inferior
not fit to lick the winklepickers of Lux Interior
you:re stuck on your period, whiny and bitchy
with a scrotum tattoo reading ‘Lionel Ritchie’?!?!
i:m fly and i:m spiffy like a young Adam Ant
i ain:t exposin myself officer these are ‘phantom pants’
you don:t stand a chance against a wendigo illin
with chainsaws for hands like WENDY O. WILLIAMS
you:re found dead in a building, it:s new and collapsing
me and Blixa Barge-field (sic) here to ruin your rapping
you knew it would happen you ain’t need Dionne Warwick
but you had to keep on talking that ignorant horse-shit
go stack in a tar-pit, ollie into some high-beams
two fingers up yours!!! just like Poly Styrene
probably visene will get your eyes back to normal
i’m not Snoop Lion i’m not a member of NORML
what IS this thing, ‘normal’? can you explain to me , Diddy?
is it looking for your chin and finding only pity?
treat the sophomore slump like it was the olympics
skip ‘iffy’, passs ‘shifty’ in a jiffy, and go straight to ‘shitty’
but on this mission you got stiff competition
like Discharge, the Meatmen, oh my God Bad Religion
“Into the Uknown” was not a rad decision
you know I ain’t missing, the annoying Die Kreuzen
can you be more dissapointing than Cypress Hill?
they fell off so fast it suprises me still!
like Schooly D, these rockers make me violently ill
manson shoulda ODed, why’d they siphon them pills?
yo i got the bomb ready to turn Tom Petty into
human confetti even your mom lately thinks there’s
something wrong with me, mas loco que el narcos.
fuck an embargo, the sanctions is Fargo
wood chipper spewing blood all over the yard snow
Huff-po right column saying WHERE’D THAT POP STAR GO? not to be
harsh though; i behead enemies! boycott my
band and scab myself like a one-man Dead Kennedys
i:m bent mentally, that’s word to George Michael
but more likeable, volunteer to sort recyclables!
picking up a rubik’s cube with a pooper scoop wearing
nothing but a jewler’s loupe riding an orange tricycle
while reading a forged encyclical from “pope” Knuckles the First
saying gays can get married (except you and Fred Durst)
i’m sorry you’re cursed to never be me-at-all
i never got beat on by Paul-y Shore at an Encino mall
you called realdoll and ordered a ‘flesh gandam’
i get HEAD! BAND! HEAD! , which is word to Seth Putnam
if they miss the ref, fuck’em, this ain’t meant for squares
who don’t know the sample should be, “head! band! HAIR!!!”
and it’s less than fair that money don’t make you baddest
your fame is ephemeral, just like your flattus
do i want all your status? shit no , screw all of this
plus your momma is a model for crypto-zooologists
ain’t no shinto apologist; the Emperor is a schmendrick
i keep my noggin Nina Hagen-level eccentric
freaky rockin authentic, don’t fuck with a gimmick
i’m just conducting this muscular butt-kicking clinic
mop you up in a minute, they call you the fall guy
’cause you got locked in a scrimmage with Popeye while he’s sucking his spinach
i admit it i’m vicious, I spit it
like the junkie bass player whose christian name ‘Sid’ is.
i’m as fit as your mistress, ice cream by the bucket
your marriage, don’t annul it  ’til you lap-band that gullet
you got a skullet cause your barber is Devin Townsend
it’s plenty arousin’, when the font end is moltin’
word to your three-way with Chronos and Bolton
it’s kind of revolting when you gape every orifice
now the Feds on your tail you’re like Waco..notorious!
can’t be certain what’s faker, your ass OR your tits
you should murder your surgeon like Jaco.. Pastorious
6 million boring discs, you sold 5 million downloads
4 roadies take your 3 inches on the down-low
your condom is a clown nose, balls like 2 rotten chickpeas,
your rider specifies 1.5 liters of dick-cheese
with a nondisclosure clause that’s permanent
i bathe in 1 tub of your blood just like Hermann Nitsch
zero permission slips, which is eqivalent to the
amount of my given shits ; negative macking hoes,
i couldn’t pull Anne Wilson even with a vaccum hose because i’m
not Axl Rose or even Billy Joel
but i’ll go Atilla on that ass like Cube (‘really doe!’)
motherfucker i’m swole, i’m ripped, I’m ‘cock Danzig’
plus my “cave-porn” name is Rock Manbig,
AKA Doc Samson with my green wig on
Gamma Knucks to your forehead, now your kids call you Klingon

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curmudgeon with a bludgeon song titles part iv

150 Fuck, I Like Ska Now
151 Oh No I Spent All My Tattoo Money On Soap ((Again) What NOW???)
152 Sleeve Tattoo Soccer Mom Vs. Clean-Cut But Rebellious Hot Rod Dad (There Can Be No Winner)
153 John Zorn: The Grind Bernie Madhoff
154 Society Should Pay For My Boner Extension (I’m A Horse-Cock Trans-Man Trapped In The Body Of A Regular-Dick Man (Hashtag Human Rights Exclamation Point (Hashtag Surgeon Retires To Cayman Islands))
155 Actually Writing Songs Is For Suckers (How The Man Keeps Musicians Too Busy To Overthrow Shit)
156 Karen Finley Was Jesse Helms’ Art Project (Yam Shoved In The Matrix)
157 Seriously Jewish Philanthropic Foundation, I Need 30,000 Dubloons To Finish My Unwatchable Art Project About Our Proud Cultural Heritage
158 Can I See Your Guns And Roses Cover Band Some Other Time? (Heat Death Of Universe Ensues)
159 You Ghost Wrote At Least 3 A.C. Albums
160 Diatoms Can Suck My Dick
161 Won’t You Wear A Ribbon For Uneven Moustache Growth Survivors Syndrome?
162 Oh, You Mean . . . UMGSuS???
163 So You Thought You Could Perv Out On My Pee-Style?!?
164 I Have To Make An Appointment To Make An Appointment
165 The First Appointment Is Delayed Until After The Second Appointment Deadline Expires
166 So Fuckin’ Gangsta Just Lying In Bed (Because Everything I Own Was Made By Sweatshops And Unhuman Conditions)
167 Refried Beans Are Uncomfortable To Look At
168 Puberty Is Racist
169 (Never Make Someone Listen To (Or Be Aware Of )) Ouds
170 Guiro Vs. Cuica IV: The Ultimate Enscrapetion
171 Struggle Against And Repudiate Solos! All Power To The Rythm Sectionariat!
172 ‘Annie Hall Hat’ Full Of Golden Retriever Entrails
173 Passport Encrusted In Hippo Phlegm (Still Legal (Try It))
174 1mm Of Exposed White Toenail Feels LIke Giant Glacial Ice-Sheet Just Waiting To Be Hacked With Miniature Pickaxes (Obsessive Disgusting Toenail Picker In The House)
175 Diatoms Can REALLY Suck My Dick
176 Worldwide Total Obliteration Of Something
177 Why Otherwise Savvy Music Freaks Defend The Wiener Enlimpening Softrock Of The Minutemen Is Beyond Me!
178 Music Notation Is Piano-Centric And Wholly Irrational, Therefore Fuck It. Or Something Along Those LInes.
AKA Music Notation That Only Makes Sense On Piano (And Even Then Only In The Key Of ‘C’), Sure, Let’s Use That System Exclusively For A Thousand Years
179 I Know You Had A Hard Life, Morbidly Obese Grandma, But Control Your Kid On The Playground Or I Will Cut Off Your Arm-Flaps And Subsequently Sew Him Into A Coccoon Of Them From Which He Will Not Emerge
180 DICK NO I Will Not, Should I “Happen To Find” Your Escaped Pit Bull, Hold Onto Him Until You Come Back This Way (You Absurd Redneck)
181 Good Lord Do I Not Care If Bruce Jenner Is A Woman, If He’s A Gunny-Sac Full O’ Defective Shell-Toe Addidas, Or If He’s Now The Vast, Vast Steppes Of Central Asia Somehow.
182 Ditto A Mind-Flayer
183 Tonight On Head-On Collision Theatre; Air Force One Vs. All Lexii Simultaneously (The Winner Is Who Cares, I Just Want To See It In Slow Motion)
184 Ralph Nader Regulated Your Mom (With His Penis AND Federal Bureaucracy (Not Necessairly In That Order))
185 Sheldon Adelson Is The Best Joke Jackie Mason Ever Pulled (Seriously Have You Ever Seen Them In A Room At The Same Time? Mister? No One Has, That’s Who.)
186 Fucking Clogs
187 187 . . . . On An Undercover Clog
188 Brian Wilson Is Such A Tormented Genius (So Let’s All Abuse Our Kids)
189 The Rudest Canadians (Oh My God Are Geese Not Utter Asswads?)
190 HPL VS MDMA
191 This Leisure Sheet Is Barb Encrusted
192 Eff Your Head-To-Toe Hobby-Specific Garb
193 If Your Song Title Is Like ‘The Blahblahblah Song’, Kill Yourself With Wire
194 Am I The Only One Who Still Remembers How Repugnant The Term ‘Lifestyle’ Is????
195 The Last Time I Saw Something As Unfunny As Stephen Colbert It Was A Woman
196 Hashtag Something Ha Ha Comedy Gold Because Hashtag
AKA
Lenny Bruce Isnt Funny Because He Didn’t Have Hashtags
197 It Doesn’t Symbolize Hate, It Symbolizes A Heritage Of Hate (Those Are Two Different Things Because .. . .Because Fuck You, Quinoa-Knowing-What-Is Book-Reader)
198 Ass. (That Is All)
199 It’s Only ‘Real Literature’ If It’s About White Collar Families Being Super Sad And Divorcing (Anything With Diversity, Humor, Satire, Or Overt Politics Is Simply Not Art (And Don’t Get Me Started About Endings That Actually Resolve))
200 So Sick Of This Band (And I Haven’t Even Written Any Songs Yet)

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bureaucracy is holistic.

we tend to think of bureaucracy as the opposite of nature, and ‘holistic’ as a word used by people named STARFLOWER instead of people like ASSISTANT DIRECTOR OF STAFFING,  MUNICIPAL  RESOURCE ACQUISITION        DEPARTMENT, but I’m here to tell you bureaucracy is holistic as fuck.  And that this is probably the WORST thing about it, the holism.

here’s an example from nature;  Australians had a problem with insects eating their sugarcane crops so they brought in an insect-eating toad from abroad, called the cane toad.  as long as the equation was limited to ‘toad vs. cane bugs’, it seemed like a perfect solution.  but in real life, there are more organisms than just toads and bugs, and all those organisms have some sort of relationship to each other. to disturb one relationship is to cause ripples throughout the whole system, which is my pedantic way of saying that the toads proceeded to eat everything on the continent, since they had no natural predators.  there’s a great scene in the CANE TOAD documentary of an aussie redneck in a jeep demonstrating the local method of pest control – swerving the jeep all over the road and trying to burst as many toads as he can, since the toads are literally occurring every 10 feet or so over the entire countryside.

holistic.

same thing with biology – biology is nothing but an internal ecosystem, a bunch of  systems inside a creature that all rely on each other.   like the giraffe optic nerve. this is a good one to annoy the fuck out of creationists, and I know that’s low-hanging fruit, but bear with me.  the optic nerve loops under the collarbone. that might not be a big deal for a pitbull or a gerbil, both notoriously short-necked bastards, but as  the giraffe evolved its long neck, the optic nerve wound up being seriously twice the length of the fucking neck – from the eye down to the collarbone and then back up to the neck – a journey in some cases longer than the whole giraffe body.

 

so if god designed that creature why the fuck would he do that.  well the answer is clearly,  INTELLIGENT DESIGN WHILE HIGH, which means there is a play or short story waiting to be written about a conservative Christian  giraffe veterinarian who gets born-again as a militant Rastafarian because he followed his twisted ideology to its logical conclusion.  but now we are getting a bit far afield.  my point is,  giraffes are seeing things that happened like five minutes ago because their optic nerve is a mile long, so don’t assume they’re just stupid.  wait, no, my point is, why would evolution, which has produced such marvelous and well-designed things as  the chameleon tongue and the majestic great white shark produce something so inefficient as the giraffe optic nerve/

the answer is, of course, the giraffe can’t tell the rest of its body, hey, guys, do you mind shutting down for a few thousand years while I re-evolve my nerve from scratch/  no/ ok, well how about just the bones, you’re in the way bones. I love you but can I get you to turn to gelatin for a few hundred years while I decouple this optic nerve/

both bureaucracies and biological systems – including BOTH ecosystems AND the internal biology of jerks like giraffes – tend to build on top of what’s already there, often in silly or terrible ways – instead of tearing down the old no-longer-adaptive thing and installing a new, logical, efficient thing from scratch.  and why, question mark.  because even if  the thing you want to replace – whether it’s an optic nerve, a crop-eating pest,  or  the dmv,  even if if everyone agrees that that thing is bullshit and no one would have  designed it that way on purpose – that bad, old item is holistically connected to , say, a dozen other things that are still good, so it’s impossible to tear it out and start over without also interrupting the good systems.

 

Like for example, you can’t change the school bureaucracy to eliminate paperwork so that teachers can concentrate on teaching again.  Because a lot of that paperwork is being requested by OTHER institutions – child welfare services or whatever social welfare department is in charge of  the school lunch program, and of course a lot of the paperwork goes to the federal government to ensure that the federal money continues to pay for local schools. So if you stopped the paperwork, you’d run afoul of ALL of those OTHER institutions.

 

So your school reforms would be limited to what  the child welfare department , the school lunch department, the federal department of education etc. will accept.  In other words, reforms that are either non-existent or so confusing that the other bureaucracies couldn’t figure out what it meant in time to block it.

 

Which is why –whether in nature or society – the usual outcome is to simply build ANOTHER layer of bureaucracy ON TOP of the different, bickering institutions and departments, to help them cooperate better.  And of course that NEW layer of bureaucracy is even more idiotic.  Call this the CAMEL OPTIC NERVE theory.

 

And keep in mind that all those other bureacracies THEMSELVES are products of decades or centuries of just these kinds of compromises, layer after layer of new rules designed to fix old broken rules while still complying with the old broken rules enough to allow the existing system to keep functioning during the reform periods.

 

And THAT’s why so many rules and forms etc. seem meaningless contradictory or confusing.

So if you were to, say reform the DMV system, you’d face 3 obstacles;

1)       “Hey everyone with a car, would you mind not driving for a few years while we re-jigger this whatchamacallit?”

2)       Let’s say you somehow DID get everyone to stop driving until you built a new, efficient, common-sense DMV rulebook.  Let’s say the new system is SO friendly you don’t even need drivers’ liscences anymore.  The problem now is, drivers’ licences have  become enmeshed with many OTHER interdependent bureaucratic systems.  In other words, they don’t just function as “this kid can drive OK” stamps, they have come to function as a universal ID card.  So now you’d have to persuade banks, cops, and all the other institutions to go along with your new, common-sense DMV regulations.

3)  and that’s not counting the long-standing pattern of low-level beuraucrats  deliberately subverting reforms made by leaders, because, honestly, who likes unaccountable people far away with minimal real-world experience, arbitarilly loading us down with new rules and deciding how we should live our lives? Oh, wait.

 

1 comment

biggest bitch-names for women now in their 40s

There’s already been a bunch of people making fun of  the sort of basic, aspirational, ‘trying to give my baby a movie-star name but it just makes  her sound like a stripper’ type names. (i.e. Mila/Dakota/Auden/Taylor/Skyler/Jacelyn/Ashley/Lindsey/Kayden)’

 

But I want to take it back to the 80s. Because we had bitch-names back then too, and it’s still relevant, because all those women are now your boss or your worst customer.

Without further preamble; IN DESCENDING ORDER OF BITCHINESS. . . . .

  • Patricia (bonus points if she says, “JUST TRICIA IS FINE” * tight smile*)
  • Meredith
  • Meghan
  • Trina/Tina/Tracy
  • Denise
  • DeAnne
  • Lori/Kristi/Vicki/Kerri/Kelli (tie)
  • Kimberly
  • Melinda / Melissa
  • Sandra
  • Erica

(I had to leave out names like Michelle, Julia, and  Heather, because 90% of all girls of that generation are named that. . . . too many false positives.)

Unlike today’s “Don’t name your girl that!” names,  these aren’t bad names because they’re too stripper-y (with the exception of that hideous 5-way tie), or too pretentious or too trendy-at-the-time.  They’re offensive because they sound like super uptight, arrogant managers in bleached-denim shoulder-padded pant-suits and crusty hair, who refuse to even give pregnant single moms a job interview after they’ve sat in the waiting room for 90 minutes.

 

Everyone , especially not-americans, please leave the equivalent names in your country, in the comments!

5 comments

Crumudgeon With A Bludgeon Vol.3

Yet more songs from my imaginary angry-old-man-bloviating-about-trivial-things-in-a-hardcore-fashion band;

 

(you should listen to Siege while you read these)


99 Amputating Arianna (From The Knees Up)
100 And Mother Fuck A Casserole
101 Golf Announcer On Ditran
102 The Only Pop Songs I Know Are The Ones That Cover Weird Al (Getting Old Is Rad)
103 Poly Styrene Cripples Entire Agnostic Front Concert With Zui Quan ‘Drunken Tit’ Style
104 Why’d You Blow Up The Space Shuttle (You Mormon)
105 Suck A Jewish Baby’s Dick And Get Paid
106 Yehuda Kook Vs. Nyarlathotep
107 Hostile Benches (Lumbar Vengeance)
108 Cracker, Have You Ever Once SMELLED Seafood (How Can You Put That Inside You)
109 Ain’t No Tick Dropping On Me (I Run This Here Copse)
110 DJs: The New Elvis Impersonators
111 I Repeated My One Graffitti Idea A Million Times, So Where’s My Designer T-Shirt Already?
112 I’ll Start Remembering People’s Birthdays When The Sun Engulfs The Earth???
113 Nina Hagen’s UFO Lazer Vaporizes Nikki Minaj’s Phoney Parts; Leaves Only Rumpled Meat-Sac Behind (Don’t Bite The Hagen Stylez)
114 Carbonarra (#1 Spaghetti Ruiner (Why Would You Invent That, Italians))
115 $4 Wine, Instant Coffee, 1998 Cvcc, (But $160 On Books)
116 No Less Than Ten Cavities From Homemade Fucking Smoothies (Fruit Is Healthy My Ass)
117 People Who Are Not Fully Starving Eat Eels (What The Complete Hell)
118 Ethiopian Food Takes Japanese Food Behind The Woodshed And Just Goes To All Kinds Of Town On It
119 The Aging Process #2; Occasional Sharts Vs. Finally Forgetting Every Springsteen Song
120 Entire U2 Fanbase Trepanned By Elder Gods Without Warning Or Anger
121 Dude From Foreigner, Pencil In Hand, Grimly Smiles As He Finally Makes “You’re A Little Bit Wild” Rhyme With “So Hot For You Child”
122 How Do You Want Your Eggs – Over Pukey Or Abortiony Side Up?
123 So Glad I Don’t Know Anyone With A Pickup (With A Dog In The Pickup) (Dog Is Named Bundles (And Is “Rill Friendly With People”))
124 Rappers Nowadays
125 The Only Jazz I Like (Is Playing 24/7 At Shakey’s Pizza)
126 I Can’t Tell Kenny G From Ornette Coleman (Is How Much I Hate Jazz)
127 How Do You Tell A Child That DC Superheros Are Butt
128 Fuck No I Don’t Want To Play With Your Action Figures (They Are From Crap Ideas)
129 Fuck No You Can’t Play With My Action Figures Either (They Are Rad But What If You Break One (What THEN))
130 How The Fuck Am I Sposed To Tell Which One Is The Shampoo?
131 Too Many Ass-Grabbin Flavors Of Yogurt (Has Capitalism Gone Mad???)
132 No One Wants To Hear Who Took Whose Spiderman Socks
133 The Unending Streams Of Spam From My Anti-Virus Program Vs. A Plate Of Boiled Wangs
134 Never Chowder
AKA D.O.C. (Disgust Of Chowder)
135 Declaration Of Total War (On The Stench Of Popcorn Butter)
136 Castration Insurance Acturary Vs. Dick Math
137 Vodka Shower (Lights Out (Chaser Of Own Tears)(Still Better Than Sportsbar)))
138 Pint At Beach (Pissin On Surfers (Oops))
139 Knocking On Doors (Tolerated But Not Encouraged)
140 There Is No Angle At Which You Can Stick Anything In A Pocket
aka FUCKING THING WON’T GET IN THE THING.
141 I Need A Password To Activate My Christ-Sucking Printer?!??
142 Today’s Incident: Cat Locked In Closet (Force-Wearing A Dress (The Punishment Involves Tears))
143 Hey, People I’m Eavesdropping On, Have A Conversation Involving Ideas Or Thoughts
144 Fucking Pot Smells And Or Tastes Like Pot (Overcome That For Pete’s Sake)
145 Fridge Stench : Origin Unknown
146 Imagine Me Being Down With Deodorant
147 Fuck Your Whole Ethos, Guy!
148 Jackson’s Chameleon Has Too Many Totally Unrelated Superpowers (I Grudgingly Respect This Mutagenic Grab-Bag)
149 Ray-Gun That Turns All Karaoke Songs Into YOU SUFFER

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First Grade Knock-Knock Jokes That Are Unclear On The Concept

7 YEAR OLD BOY:  Knock knock who’s there?

ME:  Who’s there?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Frog in my buttocks!

ME: Frog in my buttocks who?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Giant snake eat the frog!

 

 

7 YEAR OLD BOY:  Knock knock who’s there?

ME:  Who’s there?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Spiderman and Sponge Bob

ME: Spiderman and Sponge Bob who?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Spiderman and Sponge Bob kiss! Together!

 

 

7 YEAR OLD BOY:  Knock knock who’s there?

ME:  Who’s there?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Zombie Asshole! (pause) I don’t care!

 

 

7 YEAR OLD BOY:  Knock knock who’s there?

ME:  Who’s there?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Zombie fighting to shark, kick your ass!

ME:  Zombie fighting to shark, kick your ass who?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Table-sized Kamen Rider poop!

 

 

7 YEAR OLD BOY:  Knock knock who’s there?

ME:  Who’s there?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Eating fish-shark

ME: Eating fish-shark who?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Superhero fish!!!

 

 

7 YEAR OLD BOY:  Knock knock who’s there?

ME:  Who’s there?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Spiderman Underpants!

ME: Spiderman Underpants who?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Beautiful asshole guy!

 

 

7 YEAR OLD BOY:  Knock knock who’s there?

ME:  Who’s there?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Potato salad applesauce

ME: Potato salad applesauce who?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Potato-chips . . .  buttocks!!!

 

 

7 YEAR OLD BOY:  Knock knock who’s there?

ME:  Who’s there?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Applesauce

ME: Applesauce who?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Applesauce-making guy!

 

 

BONUS ROUND;   A FOUR YEAR OLD GIRL

 

FOUR YEAR OLD GIRL :  Knock knock who’s there?

ME:  Who’s there?

FOUR YEAR OLD GIRL :  My . . . not-stinky. . . princess. . .kick your ass. . . power . . . okay????

ME:My  not-stinky princess kick your ass power, WHO?

FOUR YEAR OLD GIRL :  buttocks, BITCH.

 

 

BONUS ROUND TWO; ATTEMPTING TO TURN THE TABLES

 

ME:  OK, B.  I got one for you. Ready?

7 YEAR OLD BOY:  Yes?

ME:  Knock knock who’s there?

7 YEAR OLD BOY: Applesauce horse!!!

ME:  (. . . )

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more songs from the upcoming CURMUDGEON WITH A BLUDGEON album

48        Saxophone Solos Fill Me With An Un-nameable Dread
49        Fight For Your Right To Nap
50        The Mariah Carey Xmas Carol Slow-Jam Album On Trial At The Hauge For War Crimes
51        The Japanese Men’s Volleyball Team Builds A Whole Cabinet Out Of Butts
52       Is There Any British Dance Trend That Americans Won’t Fall For? (Learn From History, People!)
53      Never Enough Bookcases
56      Weird, Baldy-Ear, No-Goal-Havin’ Motherfuckers (Talkin About Cats)
57      Nobody Can Convince Me Stevie Wonder Has A Good Song
58      Or A Bearable Song
59      Why Would You Eat Mayonaisse (If You Wouldn’t Eat Cum)
60      Lament of the Return of the Itch of the Wang-Rash
61       Bon Jovi Beheaded By ISIS Like Five Times In A Row (How Would That Even Work?)
62      Hey Plasmatics Soccer-Mom, Slow Down With The Blonde Highlights (You’re Freaking Out The Squares)
63      Anthony Bourdain Gitmo Manowar Rectal Feeding Fatality
64      Sasha Fere-Jones (Reviews The New Album By A Leaking Woman’s Butt) (It’s Not An Album (He’s Not Reviewing It))
65       It’s OK, I’m Wearing A $10,000 Watch
66       Suede Boots Are An Idea No One Should Have
67       It’s My White Priviledge (To Hate Australians For No Good Reason)(Actually Several Good Reasons)
68       Fretless Bass With Chorus (Brings The Sadd)
69       Let’s Turn A Fun Bike Ride Into A Grueling Ordeal To Teach Our Little Kids Bullshit Lessons About LIfe (Because We’re Terrible Parents)
70        Q: Are We Inconcievable Tools? A: No (Because We’re Not Rahm Emmanuel)
71        If A Fat Grandpa’s Turds Had A Twitter Presence AND An App, Would You Buy More Of Them? (People Making $800,000 A Year Say ‘Yes’)
72        I Went To The AT&T Store Because You Overcharged Me And Your Response Is To Try And Sell Me MORE Stuff (You Are A Dick In Regards To That)
73        Short Songs And Long Titles (That’s The Curmudgeon With A Bludgeon Promise)
74        Can We, As A Family, Please Stop Calling The Cat ‘Vadge’?
75        It’s Not “Shut The Police”; It’s Either “Fuck The Police” or “Shut The Fuck Up” (You’re Damn Four Already, You Should Know This)
76       Jerkwater Mutants (Abound In This Town)
77       Why Must I Wait For A Million Pretend Cars (You Tri-color Fascist?)

78       People Used To Actually Think That “Soooooo Fiiiine” Was The Highest Praise (History Has Since Vindicated Me)

79       Miss Grace Jones Bites Half The Population’s Neck Off (I Ain’t Even Mad)
80       Robert Smith Beheaded By ISIS (Beheaded By Bearded Al Gore (Beheaded By Morrissey (Beheaded By Wendy O. With Multiple Chainsaws))))
81       When My Son Came Out The Woumb, The First Sound He Heard Was ACE OF SPADES (And His Own Screams)
82      Step-And-Repeat On Your Nuts, Front 242
83      All Singer-Songwriters Fight All Power Balladeers To Death With Mittens (Also, Geysers of Poisonous Stingrays)
84      Don’t Try To Fuck (When I’m Alphebetizing Comics)
85      The HELL You Didn’t Just See That Light Turning Green, Mister!
86       All Muzak Everywhere Replaced With Venom, Forever
87       Diamanda Galas Disembowels Madonna (With A Hole-Punch (Over The Course Of Two Weeks))
88       McMansion Made of Meat
89       Yippy Dog vs. Manhole Tentacle
90       90 Songs And I’m Still Pissed (The Fuck Is My Problem?)
91       Who Buys Hot-Dog-On-A-Stick Deliberately Intending to Take Home, Leave On Countertop Overnight, And Have For Breakfast? (I Married Her)
92       My Will Specifically Instructs The Funeral Director To Blow His Mom
93       In Junior High, Some Hessian Said At His Funeral, He Just Wanted Them To Play Slayer’s Black Magic Over And Over (I’m Still Down)
94       Think You’re Antisocial? Try Being A Prime Over 10 Trillion
95       Be A Pharmacist At CVS (And Then Suicide)
96       Only A Dingus (Tolerates Bossa Nova)
97       Hipster Compactor
98       Conspiracy Theories Have Gone Downhill Since Lyndon LaRouche (Step It Up, Wingnuts)

2 comments

new rapping song today

You can listen here, but if you want to tell friends or donate money, do so on the BANDCAMP.

Everyone has a rapper they like who tries to sound smart by saying some ancient mystical gibberish. Thought I’d try that myself, mixed with some old-fashioned Robert Anton Wilson shit.

 

 

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.

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Rapper of puppets, pulling your cremaster

and calling me out , is like calling out Hastur.

The Gran-Mal Master !    Hassan I Sabbah!

Manatee on a rack like a rap Torquemada

Flunked the Invisible College

Library of Congress on a microchip knowledge

Inferno inside~!

Mystic initiate!    ballistic pistol spit!

My Remote-control Tesla physics are intricate

the aggravated marovingian ;  tribe of butt-surfin’ indians

savior DNA descendant, necrovated revnant sniper

open the ark of the covenant,

found God’s diaper and a stench that’s repugnant

The laprascopic canteloupe

Time-share a lair with Hank Scorpio

Keep Obama’s real birth cert in a Greyhound locker in Idaho

I control

illumiNAT-eye, controls OCCupy, controls 7-11

controls hot 97, controls mosanto, controls the kgb channel,

controls the wolf of wall st, controlls scientology

controls the UN, the Pope, and the corner swap meet!!!

 

(you can’t hide the truth!)

cyrogenic Nostradamus,

ViewMaster full of lost gnostic gospels, rotating!

i’m e-bayin’ a bible, autographed by Satan

R’yleh real-estate speculatin’

Norman Bates and Orly Taitz,

totally Tape-tradin’ deleted expletives,

Nixon administration decadence!

Descendant of Midian, cross-bred with amphibians

Safedeposit box in Fort Knox with the world’s first plastic titty in.

gave a reptillian a full brazillian

just for the map to Yamashita’s bullion

to finance the construction

of the blueprint of the world’s largest Funnyun:

it’s the size of Montreal,

me and Diddy in a sauna plottin schemes with Monte Hall

(Don’t be fooled by frauds! click this link!)

 

Found the philosophers’ stone in the whore of babylon’s uterus

for you to comprehend my cosmological constant is ludicrous

beyond-NSA crypto-analyst, ripped on cannibus

predict the fall of empires, Adam Weishaupt status

Injira straight from Addis Ababa, like Sabra-CAdabra

badder than bad brains’ Coptic Times

that’s why i rock these rhymes on illuminated manuscripts

third-eye monks can’t understand my shit

Lex dick with Luthor cleverness,  got a secret base in Mt. Everest

JFK killer confession on microfiche in my sweater-vest!!!!!

 

 

catch me at Bohemian Grove, drinkin’ Lean in a robe

inflame Dull Care apparatus to gain Full Player status

So we can scheme and control

Conspiracy THEOrist!

My fez decodes transmissions from Sirius

tinfoil baffler, esperanto yeti

microchip minions tear a wingnut to confetti

they so small minded

Put a false flag up Alex Jones’ behind and, dared him to find it

Smacked up David Ike and made him run those Nikes.

I’m the one they ARE after, everywhere and nowhere like DARK matter

while you trying to capture my decoy cadaver

I’m singing doo-wop with bat-boy, sasquatch, and a dope southern rapper

private eyes try, but it’s no use. too many bogus clues

for those that approach the truth,

I’ll leave you dead geometrically

cut into simple shapes like Ed Emberley.

LSD, let ME see the ineffable clearly

find the kid alternate-timeline chililn’ with President Leary

Keep a loaded Necronomicon in the Book Depository

Bildeberger murder story, coup d’etat

got Cheney’s original heart

in an Egyptian jar,  in the Conservatory

When the jewel is decoded, Rosicrucians start shootin’

pollutin’ water supply with PCP, dye #5, and GM gluten

it ain’t my fault, Iwas at the U.N.

in the secret top story

playin’ mini-golf with Crowley,

JR Ewing, Ross Perot, and Ras-putin.

Omega reflex. Mr. T clone army —  in matching t-backs.
grown in a vat in Nevada
madder than a matador giving lap dances to a labrador
Ancient tomes bound in finest velour
Line after line of mystic manure
Panknotic manuscripts on the kid’s kindle
OBL hiding in a convent with lipstick and a wimple
Price code for your soul!
Masonic mind control from Opus Dei
In the Vatican basement blastin’    “Walk This Way.”
watching Kissinger pop-lock with Lyndon LaRouche
win or you lose:
global dom break-off while the faithful above steady sitting in pews
sheep men idiots, terrestrial pinks.
bred for service, with bread and circus to keep them oblivious
flat screen soma over dosin’ on frivolous gibberish
slave to the subliminal spectacle
with raptor DNA implanted in your vegetables.
cadence impeccable, Cosmic Trigger affiliate.
downloadin’ specs from the monolith – future tech,
Government cams in your Doritos data-mine your tonsoliths
The eschaton custodian, no atom-bomb.
start WWIII with poop-scooper fulla plutonium
back masking, multitasking,school shooters under-a-spell
had a rummage sale and sold H.Y.D.R.A. a used juicer!!!!!

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Mexico