A Deadly Sin (100 Posts Motherfucker!)

I was eight or nine when NYC had one of the coldest winters on record, and every year as far back as I can remember, I come down with a cold that leads to bronchitis. This spell was particularly harsh that it superseded the two-week limit.

Mom picked my homework up daily so I could keep up, and Dad (that worthless asshole) would stare me down as I sat at the dining room table doing my homework diligently as I sniffled and barked like a fucking dog. One night as my coughing just wouldn’t quit, I heard the old people haranguing in the living room:

“Just give her the fucking thing!”

“But she’s a kid! This isn’t like what you used to get at the drug store!”

I honestly could give a shit as I sat on the floor all dehydrated and miserable trying to read my Dr. Seuss clutching my Care Bear Love-A-Lot when Mom, frazzled to fuck, burst into my room with a medicine bottle and a teaspoon.

“Now I’m going to give you this, but if you feel sick tell me right away.”

She dosed me with something that tasted like cherry schnapps mixed with diesel. Dimetapp tasted like a Popsicle, and the amoxicillin I was taking had to have been made by the Dubble Bubble people. But this shit was wretched…

And then I saw God.

Well as much as dancing Big Birds and rainbows with Wonder Woman spinning cotton candy could be considered God to a third grade atheist. I regained consciousness two hours later, and after I emerged from my room walking on sunshine to use the bathroom, Dad proclaimed:

“See? Nothing out of her after all this time. And she’s still alive!”

Twenty-three years on and Vic has been quite an influence. Campus rent-a-cops can’t catch everybody, and once outside the grounds Russians like to do business. CWE is a precious tool, but once I decided to do a threesome with blue label vodka, my nodding became scary. Since then I stick to the seasonal ‘script (although when someone goes to the dentist or gets a cough the bottles do empty quite fast- they let it go, I do everything around here).

I don’t hate Janis, Jimi, Kurt, Dee Dee, River, Johnny T., or Phil for making love to a needle. I don’t hate them for dying. I love them even more for their imperfections.

He who is without sin, may cast the first stone.

Still in love with you (all 11 ounces)

Still in love with you (all 11 ounces)

Twilight The Musical!

I’m being sarcastic antis, so don’t you worry your pretty little heads! But I am being serious when I say I hate Stewart and Pattinson more than ever!

Well as you might know The Runaways biopic was (limitedly) released with little TV advertising. In fact the only time I saw the trailer was on YouTube (and the “clever” movie poster on the side wall of a bar called Timbo’s where 40-year-old pot-bellied Bears fans hang out). I won’t even go near that no-account, blank expression Stewart bitch. It’s an insult to punk fans that she could be given the role of Joan Jett. Now I can accept that Dakota Fanning is a pretty good actress who has that valley girl cuteness and is blonde, what I can’t accept is her portraying Cherie Currie. Look at Cherie, then look at fucking Fanning. Do ya see a tough girl anywhere in there? See a druggie anywhere in there? Or do ya see a typical Disney brat?

Yeah I thought so.

But what I didn’t expect was that these assholes at Apparition were SO GODDAMN CHEAP ($10 mil budget) that they were convinced that Bella-Smeyer and Conjunctivitis Jane could sing- the shitpile grossed $2,517,227 I think that says it all.

Now before you Twifucktards start screaming I DLed the fucking soundtrack and have every Runaways album on my iPod. I didn’t even have to think when I compared their failures to the originals. Dumbfucks and people who are ignorant about punk and metal can erroneously believe that you don’t have to really know how to sing because all the audience is there for are the  electric guitars, drums, beer, drugs, and slam dancing. That’s also like believing someone who can’t skate could play the goalie position. And like saying scifi and fantasy writers don’t have to do any research when they write their stories.

The only reason why they got those two asshats was because of Twifuck and it’s obvious that Stewart won’t be acting much after Breaking Brains is released. So I hope she saves her money and goes to school so we can forget about her.

Oh yeah, Nirvana’s biopic was greenlit not too long ago. Guess who’s slated to play our Kurt? That’s right! A certain sparkly Mormonpire faggot! Tell me Twifucktards, have you ever heard of The Pixies or Hole? Ever hear Smells Like Teen Spirit or Come As You Are? I thought not. I mean you probably know Courtney Love from her TMZ and National Enquirer antics, but she also happens to be a damn good singer and guitarist. And her late husband Kurt Cobain defined grunge- an offshoot of punk and metal. Something that your My Chemical Addiction, Evercrapsince, and Parawhore just can’t hold a candle to. Sure Gerry Way and his little bro have depression, but Nirvana, those people had some REAL problems.

Piece of advice to the directors of the Nirvana pic, if you insist on hiring the unwashed British Joseph Smith, have him work on his lipsynching. I cringe every time that reeking freak opens his mouth to speak, I think I might start cutting if I hear his attempts at singing.