Ladies and Gentlemen Your Attention Please

Very pleased to announce our plans for the East Coast release of Disciple & Punish/Muff (Heavy Fuzz Records) on April 1. 26 hot tracks of heavy fuzz music. To the left.

We'll be playing Boston and NYC record release gigs at the end of March with special touring member The Milkman. Dates and venues TBA.

Look for a West Coast tour and CD release in July. In the meantime you're welcome to content yourselves over here. Don't sleep on The Bunco Men, neither. Gigs to the right.

Ate is Enough

8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 things I'm done with:

1. "The terrorists have won" Not funny, stopped being funny like 4 years ago, not even funny if it's a funny at some unfunny's expense.

2. mea culpa in re: justina. "Unless, of course, it’s with the ladies. Sexy ladies. Sexy ladies he can talk to at the clubs. Sexy ladies he’d prefer not to talk to at all. The new Justin’s got needs, ya’ll." Wow. Really, really retarded. Hey lady, it's okay to like things that suck. We all do. But quit it with the apologies that aren't apologies but are kind of apologies for being so very touched by it all.

3. dry, cracking feet. My feet are a frigging disaster area, though less so now than a couple of days ago.

4. Seinfeld reruns. I think I'm close to saturation point here. I know there are episodes I haven't seen: why won't they ever air those?

5. February. What a nothing-happening, shiftless month this is. Except for my man the King's birthday later on.

6. Those Mac commercials. Can we nuclear bomb absolutely everyone involved in the conception, production, and celebration of this ad campaign? Seriously? It's not a fucking lifestyle choice, it's just a fucking computer. If I am missing something, I guess I just don't want to know.

7. Restless sleep. I would very much like to fall into a dreamless, uninterrupted sleep at some point soon. Just one night would be fine.

8. Me. I'd rather think of eight things I like. Next time I will.

Saturday Potpourri

Some hotlinks for you on this grey, fuzzed-out Saturday morning: from the I Fucking Love Bob Seger department, go beat the System...Power Pop doesn't get much more perfect than this Badfinger classic...in a clash of the titans, JBL takes on Godzilla...a very, very plaintive entreaty...and the old, classic Creature Double Feature promo...The Chairman and The King...the Benny Hinn Show...this song sounds great on your headphones in Washington Square Park, anytime it's snowtime...global Hollywood squares, supergroup-style...

Back to the virtual waiting room for Red Sox tickets.

Eightball By Request

My man the King* handed down the word, so here we go:

1. Crossfit. I've linked this before, I'll do it again. I love these workouts, even if I have to drop poundages by forty, fifty, sometimes sixty percent. Jon and I did the filthy fifty the other day; I was really proud of us for finishing without puking. Check out the overhead squat competition from Thursday's workout. Sick.

2. McMahon vs. Trump. 'the mind...the mind...is weak'

3. Great football. It's been forever since I watched a football game that good, even longer since that stomach-tightening kickoff feeling lasted all 60 minutes. I find it hard nowadays to work myself up to that feeling in front of a national telecast--all that fantasy football verbiage; lines and spreads; fat assholes saying nothing. But this game was worth the wait in every possible way.

4. The Greatest Radio Station of All-Time (except for piece of shit Saint Cal). Thanks to my fiance for the greatest Christmas present ever besides her agreeing to marry me. I mean, look at this. Wow.

5. Saturday mornings. The new best hours. Walks to Whole Foods, Brookline mornings.

6. Cheapo Classics from Borders. I enjoy the Rumsfeld quote in re: The Iliad in the linkes article. Got a combo Odyssey/Iliad the other week; the whole thing was almost too pretty to open.

7. High K, no BB. Nasty. Ben Sheets is fucking awesome. If he pitched in a major market, or if it were 1982 and he had Charlie Moore, Robin Yount, and Gorman Thomas up the middle, he'd be famouser than Amos, though maybe not as famous as Amos Otis.

8. Will the Wolf Survive? Michael Cole should be afraid. Very, very afraid.

B-Sides and Bee Sides

Why don't you come on over to the Abbey Lounge on Tuesday nite and hear some b-sides and the assorted cover or two with the Bunco Men and Chewbacca.

Kind of a Piece of Crap

I have about 7 or 8 rules of engagement with popular culture, among which "change channel whenever Will Smith/Jennifer Aniston/Whoopi Goldberg/Sgt. Pepper appears onscreen" and "anything Vince McMahon produces is worth a second look" number prominently.

After last night's Criminal Intent, I am only too happy to report, at long last, that Rule #4, "root against Richard Kind in all his endeavors," found wonderful fruition in the form of Detective Bobby Goren PWNING this assclown.

I mean, seriously, look at him.

TOTAL EFFING SCUM.

The One

You know, you grow up and you learn to play your instrument and you move beyond cheap explications of gumby family dramas, and maybe you even learn to sing a little bit somewhere along the way and I guess you get to forgetting that the one it all started with was Psychocandy.

Thank you for basically everything, Jim and Billy. And feedback and melody. The one before the other, like the chicken made the egg.

I fucking love the Jesus and Mary Chain. I guess smashing that mystery here feels like those endless wonderings on barre chords, open strings, mikes facing amps, goddamn how did they fucking get that sound???