Sunday 10 March 2013

Today I recieved the most amazing email!

I am quite resolve'd to not go into guitar shops anymore. To not look at these expensive wood, glue, varnish conglomerations, lift em off, strum, chip the wood some when I put them back and not walk out of the shop having not spent money I don't have on a new guitar.
Don't fucking look at me like that, my dear shop assistant. If I fucking break 'em, I pay for 'em. Why is this coming out of your fucking wages? What sort of shit employment situation have you got yourself into?!

"Well I got me a job staring at guitars all day for fucking minimum wage and that will be blown tonight as I meet all my pals in the Metallica t-shirts at the Empire, aaand if any of these not very good guitar playing shits chips any of these guitars I am watching then it will come out of my wages, so I will watch them intently and totally make them feel unwelcome unless they have a thousand quid to spend on one of our crutty instruments. And even then I will sneer at them as they is not as dead good a guitar player as me...Hold that thought, my girlfriend with the coloured blue hair, the chemical-induced alopecia and the inflamed scalp
(no connection) is ringing me on my blackberry. I must stop thinking now...hummmm..."

Listen boi, you keep looking at ol' Bish with your nostrils instead of your eyes and I'll start saying things you don't want to hear. Never mind insults, that is unkindest cut of all.

Ssssample: The old joke.
How many unsuccessful musicians does it take to run a music shop?
Easy, go in and start counting. 

Now be nice and I reciprocate in kind. Maybe.
Having said that, these neck of the woods have been for years infested by these heavy metal bastards. Like there's a fucking breeding pen for metal and goth pains in the arse. The Limelight itself is the city's biggest petri dish for 'em. Then there's the indie bastards as well. I swear somebody left a lab open somewhere and they escaped. There's no way this is a natural gene mutation.

Metal shits are the worst! Lovers of no melody or tune whatsoever. Distortion can cover a million bad songs easily. Yeah! Violent cunts as well in their black apparel. Jump around to the distortion and then pick a fight when you get outside. It's kind of a sad day for someone who actually likes music to be threatened by one of these dickheads, but that's jealousy for you.Yet to hear a Metallica song that isn't just a bunch of chords strung together, but hey they've been at it for long enough, y'know 40 years, so maybe one day...

Guaranteed we have all met a prime fucktard of the metal species. Bunch o' fucking  Fred Gwynne impersonators as a collective mass I tell ya! Hmm...succinct and yet purposefully vague...
Just to get off the metal cunts subject, as I am sick of the bastards anyway, who was the fucking looney tune, who decided that ground tiger bones was the cure for erectile dysfunction? My goodness were things that bad in 5000 BC China?

"Haven't had a stiffy for weeks, so my solution is obvious; I will be going into the forest, catching a tiger before it bites my knob off and then grinding the bones into a powder which will give me a hard-on. Co-incidence will do the rest and the wife will think the skin will look dead good hanging on the wall. Now for that flock of pigs to fly over the blue moon..."

Poor tigers. From then until now having their lives extinguished by a horde of morons with flaccid penises.
It's like the fuck came up with Shark Fin soup. What particular knob-job stood upon the shore, looked at these giant, fast moving fish with two rows of razor-sharp teeth and thought;
"Mmm, looks tasty..."
Probably he had something else in mind when he thought that of course. Ended his life begging people to feed him his shark fin soup with a straw as he had no limbs left. Just rolled around on the jetty asking for more shark fin soup

If it continues into the modern age then what does that say of the world? And what for that matter does heavy metal music say about the world as well?

Well the moral of the story is, we had fucktards then and we still do.



Bisson




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