Wham Bam Thank You Bitch?

Periodically, I’ll browse through the local town’s free newspaper. Every town has one, you know the one that is mostly advertisements and classifieds that also has an article or two usually written by some college kid who is still holding onto some bullshit notion to rally cries. It’s always basically the same rhetoric that’s almost too liberal even for the god loathing Liberals. But mainly it’s just a paper magazine of ads pitching the local restaurants and night clubs who cater to everything from wing specials to dry rides. Tossed in are those articles that preach either “Legalize it” or commentary about how fucked up the government is. Either way, the most entertaining and only reason I pick up one of those papers, aside from the fact it’s free, is for the column in the back that lists the local band names preforming at the dive bar. What did you think I was gonna say, the column in back with the call girl hotline numbers? Negative, I’m talking about those shitty clubs that smell like the perfect storm of piss, spilt beer, cigarettes and asshole. They got some kind of make shift stage and it’s basically a battle of the bands headquarters for horrible metal based homegrown noise. What they choose to call themselves however, endlessly amuses me. Here are some of best of the worst I’ve come across lately:

“My John Burns”

“Jumping Jack Gash”

“Wham Bam Thank You Bitch”

“The Bowl Movement”

“Slipper a Mickey” is opening for “Vomit” on Saturday at 10.

“Hoggin’,Teeth Optional”

“Harry Twatter”

“Dicker”

“Whizzing on a Cop” formerly known as “Put my Cock in Jail”

Ugly Rock

The uglier the rock star, the better the music. You ever get an eyeful of Jimi Hendrix? Keith Richards is so ugly, it’s like his nose has tennis elbow. Jack White looks like an anorexic vampire. Thom Yorke looks like the muppet Beaker.

Pete Townsend looks like a character from “Lord of the Rings”. Chris Robinson of the Black Crowes could guest star as a Geico caveman as is. The Doobie Brothers always looked like they were in the middle of a heated Mustache contest. You don’t see too many close up shots of Bob Seger. The record company was like, how about you grow us a big old beard?

Steely Dan? It’s like Donald Fagan’s chin is throwing a punch at his nose. Walter Beker’s caricature is a picture of the Grinch who stole Christmas.

Phish looks like four guys who walked on stage fresh from an Elk’s Club meeting in Buffalo. All I’m saying is you throw 30 pounds on Bono and U2 would rock harder.

Ass Crack Tales

I’m so hairy, I was getting a massage one time and she was working on my lower back. I’m like jello when I’m getting a rub down, and I’m loud, when it feels good I just let it rip, I’m like “Oh yeah” Get high pitched, “HOOO” You know, you’re face down on the mini face toilet seat thing. The first time I got a message, she hits me with, get undressed and lie on your stomach. I’m looking at the mini toilet like I don’t know whether to put my face on that thing or squat on it and squeeze one out. So anyway I’m getting this massage and about half way through she moved side to side on my lower back and tore from the roots, what must of been like a 12 inch long ass crack hair. She ripped that monster clean out, it felt like a knife fell on me blade down. I screamed like a little girl. Startled, she froze not knowing what happened. I quickly faked a soar rib and later thought to myself, How do you tell a person, “Oh the reason I yelped is because about an inch away from your bare hands right now, grows a sea of random ass crack hairs, one of them just got snagged on your knuckle. Sorry please continue...”

Brown Eye Blues

I don’t usually chat on about bathroom humor but sometimes it’s impossible not to share.

I’m in my kitchen yesterday about to eat something and I feel for like the third day in a row,

itchy ass. I’m not talking about ass so much as I’m referring to itchy asshole. I mean, I’ll go

like three years without a single memory of an I.A. and then it’ll be like a cluster. I got a

buddy who is a lifelong bachelor and without remorse or concern, rocks a box of

“BabyWipes” on top of both of his shitters. I thought quickly, I wish I had a god damn baby

wipe right now. Then said screw it and ran a paper towel under the faucet, dropped trow

and got after it. When I was pulling up my pants I looked behind me and saw my neighbor

Bobby with the leaf blower in his hands motionlessly frozen. Attached to the kitchen there’s

a big old window in the dinning room facing his yard and in the morning you can see how

bloodshot my eyes are let alone get a mouthful of my ass. I thought, holy hell he’s gonna

think I’m into some weird sex shit. Then I got laughing and had to exit the room. I mean we

have a beer once in awhile, but we’re not friends by any means, if it was a buddy I’d of

taken my time and gotten into it, but a retired phone company guy out for a brisk morning of

blowing leaves and he gets a front row seat to the rodeo? I finally just went for it and

decided to take my medicine and walked outside and up to Bob with my hands out, like hey

man my bad and he turned off the blower. I instinctually extended my hand for a shake and

Bob literally stepped back and just nodded, I thought, I wouldn’t shake that hand either so I

smiled and said,” Sorry Buddy that’s not cool.” He looked at me and said, “get some fucking

babywipes for the bathroom”.