THIS WEEK WAS STUPID AS FUCK AND YOU KNOW IT

Fucking damnit I don't know who is running Earth this week, but it's probably a drunk retard cuz director John Hughes died at 59, yet Brett Ratner and Riki Rachtman walk the earth hale and healthy. And this year's Rock Gone Wild is in grave peril (Dangerous Toys and Junkyard on the same fucking day!). And meanwhile, so-called god turns a blind eye to reprehensible crab-ass urbilly beard-orgies and garbagecore fests headlined by Limp B****t and L***** ****. And now Metal Sucks is slagging Jake E. Lee, thunderaxe (above, ripping shit apart at Badlands rehearsal, RIP Ray Gillen). Fuck life.

I know I sound hysterical but goddammit it's really piling up around here: The Ozzy-Zakk thing; the Nelson-Bush-Ian's fat mouth thing; Mustaine's starting to pimp his kid out just like Deaddie Van Halen (see what I did there? State school no really!); and yeah the guy behind Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is dead. Hughes also wrote the first and third Vacation movies. And Ferris Beuller's Day Off was his too. So, yeah, basically the films that showed me how to vulgarly rage at both strangers and my family, and how easy it is to deceive those vain enough to assume positions of authority. So yeah I'll be wasted in the pool until further notice.

THE MONTH ANNIVERSARY OF HOOM!'S ANNIVERSARY

It should be illegal to write about your own writing, but you, as a devotee to the Metal arts, need to know why that, after 13 smooth months, HooM! is having technical issues. The auto-publish function is fucking up, and therefore content isn't going up on time blah bluh blork. I'm intensely lazy and averse to complaint emails so let's hope HooM!'s vaguely ghostlike host -- which demands no money and not even adherence to public decency guidelines in return for service -- will be alerted by sirens and flashing red lights to the combination of words Why+the+fuck+isn't+my+shit+publishing+on+time and you're+making+me+look+like+a+dingus+thanks+jerkdongs. Wait actually the watchers should probably concentrate on funneling to the FBI data on sex pervert networks and hate anthems about neo-nazi gang boot attacks (above). But seriously Dangerous Toys rulz 4 life sukkerz.

I'M A HONKY SELLOUT

One point of pride for me always was my emotional and developmental stasis, which allowed me to stay childlike/-ish and rarely deal with the heartbreak of 'growing out' of certain bands. Dudes always grouse to me like Oh I used to be into Megadeth but now I'm not. Like your car got broken into at the gig in Rockford and the villains made off with your good taste in Metal. I don't get it. To me, So Far, So Good ... So What? sounds better everyday. Not boastful; thankful. I truly would be unable to cope if this song ever ceased to blast my ballbag.

But my secret shame is this vexing, growing, and extremely honky love for blues-based hard fucking rock. Super-hard rock, like BulletBoys and Dangerous Toys and Badlands, all tapes I financed as a pre-teen by borrowing liberally from casually stowed purses. So I have changed after all. Damn. My already embarrassing fondness for these acts has expanded beyond reasonable limits, and even worse goddammit somehow major no-no's like Lynch Mob and Kix are cemented firmly in my rotation. That iPod play count doesn't lie. The other day I busted myself humming along to fucking Jackyl! Are you hearing this? The chainsaw guy??? 

And Dangerous Toys excepted, each of these bands to some extent undermines my firm anti-cracker blues stance with their wailing, contorted singers, all doing ahem 'the blues' about rough dames and bad drink. More than anything, they're ripping off Robert Plant. But that doesn't really make me feel any less uncomfortable. And the fact that I even relate at all to monster stomps like Lynch Mob's "She's Evil But She's Mine" (above) indicates that a) my life force has been sucked out by some reckless, indecisive tramp; and b) I'm only one step away from growing a ponytail in time for the next picnic table bluesfest out in the suburbs. 

LAPSE OF TIME. SYNCHRO FREEZE.

Hey the new Voivod record Infini has a release date (early July) and artwork (above, too small guys), but thanks to a decrease in Voivod visibility and a rise in pussy-ass shit, other release date/artwork non-news is taking all the attention. In this case, Killswitch Engage and their forthcoming album produced by a slumming Brenden O'Brian. 

One wonders if -- in their honest moments -- the pleadcore/brocore bands realize they are are post-911 hair rock? It's like Godsmack and Disturbed and Shinedown are the really light stuff, like Slaughter, Poison, Warrant. The scream-scream-whine-whine bands are the next step up, good players who are heavier than the poofs. But they stick to the poof subject matter (girls/partying; broken hearts/you bitch/lifting weights) while attracting the male dollar by being tough and intense. Motley Crue. I guess the Badlands-Junkyard-BulletBoys-Dangerous Toys guys are represented by Warbringer and Municipal Waste, bands informed by the previous era's heaviest. It's like hair rock just got a lot heavier and less fun. 

DEEP IN THE CROTCH OF TEXAS

If I'm ever in a sleazy, dirty rock band with tons of suggestive lyrics -- it's just a matter of time -- I hope that our fanbase to some extent will include young rockers too green to understand wink-wink double entendres and innuendos. Why? Well, I was once one of those pre-pubescent lads confidently strutting around school, unwittingly singing about the joys of "Sport'n A Woody" and the "Teas'n" and the "Pleas'n" of area chicks. Ah Dangerous Toys. Good times. From Blabbermouth:

Dangerous Toys will celebrate its 20th anniversary on Saturday, November 8 at the Red Eyed Fly in Austin, Texas. The group's lineup, consisting of all original members, will perform a two-hour set, featuring the No. 1 MTV video hits "Teasin' Pleasin'" and "Scared" from their platinum 1989 debut. 

In other news, check out this adorable small-town newspaper piece. Awwww. 

GO ROCK WILDLY AT ROCK GONE WILD

One of Knocked Up's touching scenes is Harold Ramis talking about drugs with his son, Seth Rogan. "No pills or powders," Ramis' policy reads. I hope to cover that with my hypothetical kids, time permitting. But for now, my plan is to use those quiet father-son moments before the young man's wedding/arraignment to reaffirm the heavy sleaze rock ideals cherished by our family for generations: D. Toys, B-Boys, Ratt, Badlands; Love/Hate, Lynch Mob, and Junkyard. Stay with the bluesy, powerful bands with hot guitarists. The less smiling the better, good drummer a plus. Sex song to drug song ratio 1:1 tops. I'll only be reminding him of something he senses innately, since he'll have been conceived at next summer's four-day Rock Gone Wild event in Algona, Iowa, Aug 20-23. So far, Dangerous Toys (yay, above) and Junkyard (super yay) join Helix (uh) and Saigon Kick (why not) as RGW's confirmed bands, though it's just common sense that members of Slipknot will be joining the latter for rousing medley "Love Is On The Way/Circle." I've gone 'rock wild' before, but can only predict what 'rock gone wild' looks like; I assume it involves Taime Downe and Vince Neil rubbing their knockers together. Yeah, savor it.