Boobie Tassels For Buddha

Down formed in 1991 with a pretty badass group of musicians from other bands, Phil Anselmo from Pantera, Pepper Keenan from Corrosion of Conformity, Kirk Windstein and Todd Strange from Crowbar, and Jimmy Bower from Eyehategod. (At present, Strange is no longer with the band and Rex Brown took his place.) This album, their first, was released in 95 and debuted at 55 on the Billboard 200...that could have had a lot to do with the already known band members, but the sound is there. Phil Anselmo never sounded this good in Pantera. These songs are sludgy in a way that really gets my panties wet. I listen to this on roadtrips, rainy nights, during morning showers and practicing strip teases. It's good. period.

enjoy

check them out here

i'm on the road today so don't expect too much out of this phone uploaded post...

i saw a pre-oj era bronco on the road earlier. peeling paint job, huge tires, and a sticker across the back glass reading 'muddaholix'.

yes really.

right off the bat, the double d and the x bother me.was mudaholic simply not catchy enough that the extra d and crazy spelling are needed? then i start to wonder...what exactly is this person saying of themselves? "going muddin'" is a double entendre in these parts. this person could love the redneck sport of mud boggin' or really love anal sex. or perhaps both. they seem to go hand in hand around here.

a felt a little shame for having been born and bred a south georgia girl but then...


as i passed the guy, i became pretty thankful and gave him a smirky little nod. without people like this to laugh at, life around here might get pretty dull. thank you, mr. muddaholix. this is a bright spot in my day.

I like cover songs. I don't like cover bands.

Coalesce is a band you'll find frequently hitting my playlists. I like their sound a good bit. In fact, I'm listening to them as I type. The band has been together off and on since the mid 90s with their lastest release, Ox, coming from Relapse  Records in 2009. (Relapse knows their stuff. Check their site for lots of goodies). In 1999, an ep of led zeppelin covers was released entitled there is nothing new under the sun. I love led zeppelin. i grew up listening to them among many other 'classics', and i'm still of the frame of mind that i couldn't have the music i love so much today without them. at first listen, i thought to myself... i never thought it possible to really fuck up a zeppelin cover, but here's my proof... i kept an open mind though. it's grown on me tremendously. sean ingram's voice is almost as unique as robert plant's. what i have for you here is the 2007 reissue of the album which actually features a sabbath cover, a couple boysetsfire covers, and more. give it a try. perhaps my favorite on here is the one original song featured on this reissue entitled bob junior. and that sabbath cover ain't half bad.

check out the band here. their new release is lovely. wild ox moan is a song i can't do without.

enjoy this.

spelling freak actually. spelling and grammar freak.

I used to post a good number of blogs on a different site. I got pretty jaded with it quickly, though, because there seems to be a great many people, at least there, who pour over your work like penny starved editors just waiting to pounce on you for one misspelled word or incorrect word usage. Type a blog at 3 a.m. in a drunken stupor going on and on about getting a cum shot in your eye and by the next afternoon when you finally roll out of bed, you better expect someone to have come along and said "it's you're not you" because at some point in your nsfw rant you gave the following advice: when your about to take a wad in the face, always always always point away from your eyes. or wear goggles.

now, i like it when people know the difference between your and you're, their, there, and they're, to, too, and two...but do we have to be anal about it? do we have to come in where someone is trying to simply share the comedic treats of this malady with others and piss on the parade? apparently the answer is yes. i also like when friends point out to me that i've made an error when i've written for an audience and they're intent is to help me save face, but for some people it's just not so. Let's go over this.

1. You're writing little notes which you lovingly refer to as blogs on a social site set up much like myspace or facebook. It really isn't that serious or that big a deal.

2. THIS IS THE INTERNET NOT A NEWSPAPER OR MAGAZINE OR BOOK WRITING WORKSHOP.

3. You aren't discussing world news or on a tirade about the downfall of man being based on poor grammar...you're writing about stuff like getting cum in your eye. or your bitchy coworkers or, or, or... basically, none of it is serious enough, especially on a social site, to warrant public correction.

You have an audience reading these little notes on social sites because you write well or make oustanding life observations or you're humorous and those people are going to keep reading despite a middle of the night misuse of the word "your". Most people are able to overlook such things, but there's a whole other group who really gets their panties in a bunch over such small issues. It's ANNOYING. It's more than annoying. It makes you dislike that person greatly and learn a lot about them. Here's what you will find out:

1. This person likes a lot of attention. When you write something that steals away some of that attention, they will try to figure out a way to bring you back down a little. Humiliation tactics which make them appear smarter than you are, therefore, employed.

2. He or she probably has a lot of insecurity issues which push them towards correcting others in a public forum.... and maybe they're compelled to do it. Maybe they need that sort of order in their lives and your mistake fucks that all up. Either way, they're CRAZY.

3. These people are cunts and/or dicks and/or assholes.

And the icing? These are also often the people who use nonexistent words such as lulz, teh, muh.....and (ugh) kitteh. What sort of shithole would use a sentence in their own blogspace to say something like "for lulz, i asked him if he wanted to pet muh kitteh" then come preach to you about proper grammar in your own?

one of my friends and hopefully a future contributor to this site experienced this problem recently in a note on the above mentioned site. she was discussing her new classes and basically letting out some frustrations. not the right time to pick on someone about their grammar...

but, still the following occurred:

she will be wsn and her commenter is ac which stands for asshole commenter

ac: "There is another girl that swears she is A.D.D. but her doctor won't give the meds. I think she is just addicted to black eyeliner and red bull. She gets both in gallaon jugs." This section was brilliant, apart from the typos. It's this kind of clever observation that keeps me reading your blogs.

wsn: I think the typos lend to how drunk on white zinfandel I was at this point.

there is a mental disorder, I can't remember the name of it, but it's the reason why certain people feel they should, no, must correct others grammar and spelling. It has to do with feelings of insecurity. You want to talk about it or would your time be better spent finding a therapist?

ac: i didn't correct it. . . I just pointed it out. There's probably not a name for that disorder.

wsn: I'm pretty sure rationalizing the disease is part of the disease. I'm here for you. *hugs*

ac: I don't believe you're qualified to make those sorts of gross generalizations. . . regardless of how gross, or general, you might happen to be.

wsn: You are in a safe place. I care about you. no matter how hard you lash out. *hugs*

well, fuck that, i say. i hope there will be none of that here.

also, i think wsn's classmate might look like this:

About 4, maybe 5 times a year, if someone can coerce my participation with enough beer and/or naps, I will drive up to the in-laws with the fam all packed up in the truck. It’s usually a weekend of do-without bullshit that involves 4 generations of people I would probably stand to forget (the weekends and the people, in case you were wondering). The only people I like in the family have quirks that are so whitebread it makes me ill, but oh so shocking to the rest of them. The weed producing patriarch, the uncontrollable alcoholic uncle who always wears shorts (and not cool knee length shit you can find at the gap or old navy. No, no, the weird second hand store faded red sport shorts with pockets kind of shorts)… Wait. It’s just the two of them. Could be the lack of quirks in the family makes me ill. I’ll figure it out.

On the way there, about an hour out of town, in a place that has been dubbed the birthplace of the NHL, I see something that over the years has seared itself into my mind. I’m a twat when it comes to traffic and if I can’t pass you on a two lane highway cuz you’re a dipshit going 10 miles below the limit I will lose it. So, I often cut through town to avoid finally having my aneurysm. Each and every time I do, there she is. She’s either standing on a corner, or jaywalking across Main street or leaning against some car in the parking lot at Tim Horton’s. Every time, regardless of weather. Keep in mind I write this over the fucking Christmas holidays and it was -25 Celcius (look up the conversion ffs, I can’t be bothered).

She’s the town whore. I guarantee it. She could be pushing 50.Tall, slender, with skin a golden Caucasian, (think Something About Mary, but Mary’s roommate, hair like Micheal Jackson during the Thriller era, except it would be pouffier and mousy brown, the way a woman who always knew she was maybe the 17^th most attractive person she knew would wear her hair in 1984. the first time I saw her she was wearing a midriff baring yellow t-shirt (sans bra thank you very much, leaving none of the b-cup banana action to the imagination), purple dyed cut off jeans with black high heels and a tiny purse that makes me think of crappy Japanese cartoon accessories for young girls to complete the ensemble. This time she was wearing a ¾ length leather jacket. Same shoes. Couldn’t tell if she had bothered with pants. Her makeup was a healthy mix of pink and blue and both were heavy on the frosting and shimmer. Garish.

She is by far the ugliest woman I have seen up close and thought, “There! Her! She’s the town whore! It’s so obvious!” And yet, it is that obvious, she could be nothing else. Librarian? Sandwich Artist? Barista? City Planner? Agricultural Specialist? Nope. Town whore. Gleefully riding handlebar moustaches and getting her thighs full of tractor grease at lunch time while drinking her RC cola and eating Cheezies.

And every time I see her I have to wonder. Does she watch the same shows I watch on Sunday night? Are we both huge fans of Lost? Are we living through a shared experience at the exact same time? Will I feel a chill in my body when she finally commits suicide surrounded by her cats and the stacked cases of Wildcat in her living room? Cuz she’s an old ass whore in a shitty small town whose claim to fame is old ass NHLers and next year’s 18th Annual Ontario Swingers Festival. It’s just a matter of time.