Saturday night marked a trip to South Park Tavern for goth/industrial might. I originally thought I would engage in industrial stompiness, but instead opted for spastic flailing instead…it looked better.
On the drive back, I happened to drive by Blue Ice. I am going to be totally honest that I am at a total loss of words to describe the patrons of Blue Ice without drawing comparisons to lobotomized simians, but I feel bad actually saying that, if only for the fact that I feel it is a slight against apes who have had incapacitating surgical procedures. To say I despise these ass clowns is like calling the Atlantic “Moist”.
This is a hip hop club, so when 2:00 AM hits, and the bar rush lets out, it is like sailing through a sea of booty, corn rows, and people who pronounce ‘Ask’ as ‘AKS’ as in, “Lemme AKS you a question.”
Now, this is not a racial thing that I hate these people. I would hate these morons if they were whitebread young republicans just the same, but the fact of the matter is, I was NOT gridlocked behind young republicans, I was however stuck behind shitty Cadillac Escalades and Toyota’s with huge ass butthole exhausts and stereos with enough bass to shatter large Kidney obstructions.
Apparently, if you belong to this particular contingent of people, there is a strict code of conduct that dictates that if you are driving down the street and you happen to spot a ‘Ho’, it is imperative that you perform your moral obligation and make vocal your thoughts and opinions on their booty, which in turn requires that you slow your shitty ass hooptie to a near standstill, just in case the mating ritual works and they take you up on your unsolicited cat calls.
I also received an unprecedented amount of feedback about Alexi, the hearse. The common consensus was something along the lines of-
“Pardon me, I noticed that you happen to be driving a heavily modified vehicle that, if I am not mistaken, is a coach that used to transport the recently deceased. I must confide that I am mystified by not only your alteration of this vehicle, but your attraction to driving such a conspicuous mode of transportation.” Which, the various stragglers of the crowd chose to articulate by yelling the following word that summarized the main points of the above statement…
Over and over again.
A few of the more eloquent among the crowd chose to expand upon the point by adding a little extra and saying things along the lines of “Daaaamn! Wassup wit dat!?”
Failure to formulate a compound sentence ahoy! The English Oxford dictionary is host to no less than 290,000 entries, with some 616,500 expanded word forms, and of a virtually infinite combination of groupings, the BEST one that you can come up with to articulate your thoughts is “Daaaaamn!” Way to go people.
Like I said, it is NOT a racial thing, I hate white people EVERY bit as much for their ass-munchery in traffic, the way they think a more expensive car should allow them extra consideration on the highway, or their perception that ‘irregardless’ is actually a word (it isn’t, you fuck-nuts).
So, that being said, I decided that I am going to exact revenge on these tards.
Normal revenge, such as mowing them down with fully automatic gunfire seems far too docile for me, so I have developed a weapon that is so insidious, so cold hearted and sinister, I am anticipating it will be only a few short days before the Geneva Convention is expanded to outlaw it’s use.
I speak of nothing other than my latest invention…
Now I hear you asking, “Hey Zachary, what the hell are you talking about, you madman? Do you mean to tell me that you have developed a weapon that has somehow harnessed the awesome suckiness of Emo music and it’s subsequently suck ass subculture following!?”
That is EXACTLY what I am telling you.
Well, to truly illustrate the severity of my new weapon, I will need to first delve into the general principle behind it. See, there is a new movement called ‘Emo’, which is like punk, but if punk was centered around looking like a strung out weenie, wearing sweaters 3 sizes too small, Mary Tyler Moore haircuts for EVERYONE (including the men), and just generally looking so damned gimpy that you come across as the type of person who crosses the street walking home if your path crosses the senior citizens home, for fear of getting wailed on.
You also have to listen to music with approximately the same intensity as an amplified drinking fountain. Bands so bad that Barry Manilow would look like Gene Simmons by stark comparison. I have heard rumors that Emo evolved, somehow, from punk, which I find hard to comprehend, unless I apply the reasoning that it is kind of like how a big steaming pile of feces "evolves" out of top sirloin steak, after you digest it.
Anyway, the underlying principle here is that the Emo-fier, when turned against a potential target, will turn any individual, regardless of how badass they may normally be, into a hugely insufferable weenie.
Now, I know that you are all probably doubting the potency of my claims, so I planned ahead and actually tested the Emo-fier ray. I needed a subject that would illustrate the power of the transformation, so as many great scientists before me, I chose to experiment on myself.
Below you can observe me as I normally operate, filled with industrial might…
Now, stand back as I turn the Emo-fier ray to a moderate setting of ‘5’.
Hey, someone hand me that “Scooby Doo” lunch box! I listen to Blur, and I suck, wheeeeeeeee!!!
Now, I will crank the Emo-fier up to a full ‘10’, but I caution you, stand back, I would not want to inadvertently turn any of you into Wheezer fans!
I pose for every picture with my mouth open and expose my midriff like Daisy Duke! I cry at live shows! Quick! Someone cast me in a Calvin Klein commercial!
Anyway, the point of all this (Aha! You thought I just went off on a tangent and forgot what my point was!) is that I plan to take the Emo-fier downtown and turn it on the patrons of Blue Ice next Saturday. Then, after they have all been sufficiently pansified, I plan to use a moderately high powered leaf blower to blow them into the sewers, where the CHUD’s will take care of the rest.