Saturday, July 23, 2011

Go back to the seventies!

Yelled a couple of kids driving by as I was walking to work last night. I don't think you should heckle people, but if you do, get your shit straight.

I have an afro. However, it wasn't all picked out, and I wasn't wearing bell bottoms or something. This is how my hair grows out of my fucking head. I'd have yelled back for them to act their age, but as they had been acting like infants, I figured infants can't drive and they were about to get themselves killed. Karma wins again.

Anyways, aliens. I believe they exist. I believe that crop circles, however, are not real. Well real physically, but a hoax in actuality. However, if it's aliens or not, knock it the fuck off. That's our food.

Good mornings, sirs and madams,

~Xavier R.


Me: Two dollars an avocado? Why are you doing this? How can you do this to me?
Produce clerk: I don't even eat avocados, so, you know...
Me: This is ridiculous. A hoss avocado shouldn't be two fucking dollars.
Produce clerk: If it's too classy for you, then you can g.t.f.o. (exactly like that)

Friday, July 22, 2011

Making Music with Michael McCormack Part Three

So I started these making music deals to hopefully give you some insight into this project as I do it, but I have to say one thing first. The above movie is so amazing I cannot speak highly enough of it. A really amazing Greek (or Korean) tragedy that you are surely less of a person for not seeing.

Now onto the music n'shit.

Dr. Rouxpurt J and I are working on a musical project of magical proportions. Well, I have. Charles has been spanking it with a mystical and furious vigor unknown to mammal and rock alike. He's cool like that. Anyway, it's not like he can do anything at this point, not until I've written all six of the songs I'm gonna put on the E.P. we'll call "Superfuck Volume One, Subtitle: It's Toasted".

Point: I've written 5 of the 6 songs, so soon we'll see things get livelier, crazier and more vocal. Shit, you might even see us perform this in a live setting (not infront of people, mind you, but physically there, with instruments) but untill then, I'd like to show you what I'm up to. Three more songs, bitch. Get ready.

SONG ONE: Big Hoss' Pig Pen
The instrumental song I'm planning to put on the front-end of the EP

The instrumental song I'm planning to make the last track of the EP

The Melvins cover I'm planning to put in after a few minutes of silence after "Lumpy". No vocals yet but feel free to compare to the original (below).

So yeah, fun shit. Next time I make a "Making Music" I swear to god I'll have vocals. Or I won't, whatever.


Thursday, July 21, 2011

Not a fantasy of violence, but a fact

Uh, shouldn't he have black, curly hair, and brown skin?

I saw that commercial on the meme generator site, and I gotta tell you, I wonder if I purchase resolve, those women will let me have sex with them? Just a thought. Well, more of a prayer. I find commercials nowadays rather disturbing. Even when they merely involve a bunch of women who were obviously promiscuous in college, and totally want to bounce on my rod in secret. Totally.

One that was on around a decade ago or so (a total guess) that I thought was relatively funny;

On to politics.

Elect me as Hegemon of the world, and I promise to execute a bunch of bad guys, build an army that could conquer the universe, lower taxes, and make every Thursday free Thai food day. Also, in no way will I let this get in the way of my current duty as your current religion head/god on Earth.

I have spoken,

~Xavier R.

Cream of...Malt O Meal?

Movie Not To Watch 2 - Skyline

Let's see, introduction being old friends reuniting for a party and meeting each other's significant other. Check. Some bullshit melodrama to blend in with the main story line (cheating, of course), check. Near indestructible aliens. Check. Said near indestructible aliens harvesting people for whatever purposes. Check. Abrupt ending with the assumption of a sequel (on their end), check. All this being in a metropolitan area. Check.  Toss in some of the oddest  looking attractive people ever and you have Skyline; the greatest movie ever made.

For some reason, I can't get a meme picture up right now, after many a click on it, so I'll move on to my new topic.

Angry Mango

That is angry mango. He is the protagonist of a comic series I believe I shall start. He is inspired by my Mango comics from work, which continued there (for the length of a day) until I was yelled at and called a "dumb ass" for such glimmering genius. Now it will come to your eye holes here. In a new way, I suppose. Well, new to you. And me, since I'm changing the original format. Not that you'd know. Bah, nevertheless. New, regardless.

Enjoy your miserable lives,

~Xavier R.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Welcome to Hell, Michigan.

If I had a choice of going to Detroit or to say, North Korea in order to save everyone I love from a horrible death, I'd honestly go to North Korea.

Michigan is a miserable place, and Detroit is the Mordor at the center of it all, and this is why I'm sure it's export is misery and music, good and bad. Electric Six, White Stripes, Eminem and, well, we'll get to those guys next paragraph. They all came out of post heyday, post Motown Detroit. and it definitely tinges their music.

Yes, how could we forget the Insane Clown Posse? A band that is the musical equivalent of the bumble-bee. The bumble-bee is technically incapable of flight, and yet still refuses to acknowledge reality and routinely can be heard screaming "FUCK YOU, GRAVITY!"

The obviously don't take themselves seriously, which is endearing, but then their fans have to ruin that, didn't they? When you see a white rap group thats just alright, thats one thing, but when you notice trailer parks all over america turn these guys into a religion...

... shit gets scary.

Anyway, I just wanted to impart upon you an actually decent ICP song. Nothing that'll make y'all Down Wit Da Clown n'shit but, you know, shows atleast their talent as rappers.

It's actually a song about hell (detroit), and even though its hardly a rap equivalent of Dante, it's got some good, what we writers call, "Imagery".

Now, you can thank me later for playing for you the best ICP song ever, well, the best song besides that other one...

A Big Mike Rap

Monday, July 18, 2011

Bill Maher: Public Enemy #1

"Sane person" Bill Maher, with his trademark look of complete confusion

Liberals, progressives and generally anyone who isn't a Christian has spent plenty of time talking about the so-called "crazy people" in politics and pop culture today. We're all well aware of the Christian fanaticism that's rampant in conservative politics, and the lunacy of people like Glenn Beck is relatively well documented. But I'm here to talk about what I see as a far more dangerous, sinister, and pervasive threat... ...

... Libertarians...

See, I grow-up in a household with a generally left-wing, progressive father who enjoys watching any kind of liberal, "sane", "free-thinking" television that rags on Christians, conservatives, or anyone else who believes in traditional values. When I'm not at home, I get to hear more of this crap from all the "free-thinking" college students who worship the lesbian, Rachel Maddow. This, in of itself, is not at all a bad thing. The war in Iraq? Yeah, generally a bad idea. Removing funding for Planned Parenthood and criminalizing abortion? Also a bad idea. Banning gay marriage? Yeah, pretty stupid. But amidst all of this "sanity" comes a fundamental fanaticism and stupidity that's just as dangerous as anything else we've seen thus far.

At the forefront of this supposed "sanity" is the psychopathic douchebag, Bill Maher. Bill Maher spends the majority of his show, "Real Time With Bill Maher" being a hater; calling Christians and other religious people "crazies", going on stupid rants about when he stopped believing in G-d, and generally sucking copious amounts of cock. Maher, a self-professed "sane" person, has become somewhat of a God for liberal college students and middle-aged, single, white men who happen to hate conservatives. What Maher hasn't told anyone is that his not believing in God has nothing to do with a lack of evidence, he just doesn't do it because he's a contrarian and wants to be different.

Maher is a leader for the Libertarian douchebags who, I believe, should become public enemy #1. They're dangerous not because of what they believe, but because they believe in nothing at all. Your average libertarian is a fanatical atheist who doesn't want to pay a single dime in taxes, but also wants magical elf people to build their roads for them and protect their homes when other people want to slit their throats. Libertarians are dangerous because they're selfish, mean, fanatical pricks who won't lift a finger to help another person. They'd rather watch a child get run over by a truck owned by a capitalist then get out of their chairs. They believe in absolute freedom - that means freedom from helping anyone but themselves, making them a very real threat.

Also, people like Maher need no factual basis for anything they believe. The self-professed "sane" person also believes that vaccines and pharmaceutical drugs are poisons, and believes in "alternative medicine" with absolutely no factual basis for any of it. Again, Maher believes in these things because they're progressive and edgy; not because they actually make sense.

In short, Bill Maher is a douchebag. That is all.

Dreamscape I

I just woke up from a rather scary dream. Normally, I would just shake it off, and go back to sleep. This one, was rather note worthy, so I figured I would share it first before I headed back to my slumber.

I was at the house I use to live in before my current, with a few of my friends, one of whom was merely an acquaintance, another a small child.

As my friends and I carelessly played video games on the couch, my "acquaintance"  friend tried getting our attention several times in vain. Finally, he says,

"You guys, the sky, it's freezing where rays of light are normally suppose to shine through!" Finally, I get up to go check, and sure enough, exactly that was happening. In fact, it was as if the atmosphere was freezing, and the freezing sky was spreading. I say to the others

"Really you guys, you need to check this out." Soon they all were seeing, and all started to panic. Being equally scared but calm as a monk, I say

"Don't worry. Even if it all started breaking and falling towards us, by the time it reached us, it would barely do anything at all." This calmed them, and they went back to their video games. Finally, a news report came about the radio (though we didn't have a radio on) and told us that the atmosphere was indeed freezing over, and that they knew nothing of it beyond that.

This caused another round of panic among my friends (the acquaintance who was the panicking the least), and again I reassure them if the sky does indeed fall, (and right then the acquaintance reminds us of the heat caused by acceleration) it will be of very little danger of us, and by looking at it, might not even hit us. (For right there I'd like to point out that the frozen sky looked frozen in large chunks in every direction, but in between the chunks, weren't cracks in the ice, but seams clear of being frozen.)

The ice did eventually crack, however, and exploded, falling unto the world. They began another round of panic, but the acquaintance and I did not. We instead had very amused looks on our face, which the rest found hilarious, and again went back to their video games.

When it did it us, it was as a thick bombardment of snow. The sliding glass door was open, however, and the snow spilled in, covering the before mentioned child, who was asleep on the floor. I quickly clear him of it. Afterwards I stand up and tell the acquaintance that this is like one of those post-apocalyptic stories we always wished to be apart of as kids. He laughed and agreed.(After this point, the child never appears in the story again, and the "acquaintance" vanishes to go explore, but doesn't tell us.)

A feeling of accomplishment washes over me. I realize that even in an ending world, I can still keep my cool and direct those around me, despite being just as scared. I do not let it control me. I merely acknowledge its existence.

They go about playing video games once more, until the radio comes on again. It goes on about how the atmosphere has been destroyed, and that the world will reach a melting point and then be destroyed. Everyone looks at me in confusion and horror (a responsibility I hardly want) and I shush them down.

(the following is a bit hazy, and I guess 15%-25% of the filler that is not obvious to be important is probably fictional, in regards to the dream, that is.)

A couple girls come into the house at this point, most likely thinking it is a safe place to be. (now that I think about it as I write, probably because the "acquaintance" told them about our calm demeanor and our resources.) I care very little about this, except for the fact that with them is this redhead, who once I see I fall instantly in love with. Her smile makes all the fear inside me go away. I feel an overwhelming warmth. (It should be mentioned, that my girl chatting tendencies usually point me in the directions of apathy or awkwardness. However whenever I see "HER", which has happened a few times, I become indestructible in  will and thought, until either I ultimately succeed or fail.)

I try try to get her to stay with me. But she wont do it. She says she has a boyfriend to get back to. (who I learn, without being told or ever seeing, is one of my friend Jon's cousin) Uncaring, I tell her to forget him, and stay with me. She playfully refuses, and leaves safety.

The acquaintance returns. I ask him what the outside world is like (as I do so, the sky, and everything else outside, has turned completely white). He looks at me, filled with dread, and says nothing. He was pale as a ghost, and I could tell, that he had just given up. I looked around, and no one was left. Despite my sacrificing of humanity to shine fearless for them, seeing the "acquaintance" so wrecked wrecked them, too. They fled away to die. I was alone.

(I fear that particularly important, but unvital, parts of this last section were lost completely)

Chaos. Disorder. Panic. The streets and skies burned with the fears of people. It's funny, because our habitat around us changed drastically, maybe fatally so. But people didn't have to. People didn't need to behave like this. We could have stayed calm, and found a way to deal with it. But across the globe, there was utter pandemonium.

As I walk into town, I convince those I pass to calm down, and they listen. However it seems some retreat from my calming manner, so my efforts do very little. Eventually I make it to the house I lived in before the house at the beginning of the dream. A couple of my friends are there. I don't bother complaining about the fact that they had left a more secure location that was heavy in resources. I just sit. The radio chimes once more.

"It's all over..." and once again they flee. I don't try to stop them. All but one are never seen again. Though it wasn't technically my duty, I felt as though I had the capability of being a Shepard. Though I still did not let the fear consume me, I felt as though I could have stopped them from being fools. Could have stopped them from running like cowards. Though the enemy was not a directly physical one, I could have led them into battle against it. But I didn't. I failed.

I was in a car with the rapper Jay Z and his mom, and they were driving me to 7-11. I thanked them for the ride, and went inside to buy a slurpee. I suddenly have a used slurpee cup, and go over to the chaotically arranged counter, and tell the man that I would like a refill. (Which is silly, because you refill it yourself.) He mocks me in a frightening manner.

"Oh look at me, I need a refill. Lah dee da dee da." as he does a silly dance. Then glares at me. I realize a lot if terrible right now, so I should be grateful. Not that I didn't understand the chaos. I wasn't grateful, however, until right then. After a moment, he laughs a reassuring laugh. I fill it up my slurpee cup, and the man says something along the lines of

"God gives us this world, and we destroy it. He didn't have to share it with us. He has his friends in the sky, and we destroy them with our airplanes and disease." Though I was incomplete agreement, I had the feeling that he might suddenly shoot me, so I say

"Praise to god." or something like that, and leave, without paying, which didn't seem to be a matter. I got back in Jay Z's car.

It was night. The world wasn't a piercing white anymore. The night view seemed normal, though chaos was still quite abounding. The driver of the car was suddenly my friend Jon.

As we went down the street, I saw the redhead again. It instantly became daytime. A normal daytime. I shouted out to her. I told her I could take care of her. She said that her boyfriend wouldn't LIKE that, hinting at violence, and she seemed almost happy about it, though I could detect fear in her. I had a feeling I'd see her again. I asked her for a kiss. She thought on it, but then ran over to the car to oblige. Jon re-positioned his now truck so that her approach would be easier, seemingly o.k. with the fact that I was trying to steal his cousin's girlfriend. He then, however, re-positioned his truck once more, and drove away, mentally telling me we have more important things to do. I suffered. It became night once more.

I was now in my moms car. As we drove down the street, I saw a lion, wandering about.
"Was that a fucking lion?"
"Yes." She replied. I was terrified. Not only for myself, but for anyone who would end up encountering it. Despite this feeling of terror, I wanted to stop and fight it. My mom kept driving.

Out of the blue, a cop car was on our tail.
"Shit, it's the cops." My mom says. His sex lights start-a-blinking, and my mom begins to drive faster.
"Mom, maybe you should pu..."
"No! We can't let them see there is a black man in the car until we reach a public place." I thought to myself, that I knew all the cops in town. They like me. They wouldn't hurt me. Now three cops were on her tail.

We now find ourselves, my mother and I, at the library, when it use to be under the city hall whilst the current one was under construction. There was a shoe section, where one could literally check out shoes. The cops found as as we looked about the shoes, and didn't question or search us, but in fact searched the shoe boxes and shoes around us. Frantically. After awhile, one of them finds a shoe as big as a computer, and laughs, saying

"Who the hell could fit into a shoe like this?"
"My friend Joe could." I say.
"Well he must have some big fucking feet. Hey, look at this picture frame." He hands me a picture frame, and I look at it, then hand it back.

"Anyways, sorry to bother you Mr. Rhone." And they leave. My mom and I sit there, confused, exhausted. She begins to talk, and in the moonlight I see a red dot on her head. I shove her face backwards.
"A laser!" Then blue ones appear on mine. We both take turns dodging the lasers, though no shots are being fired.
"The picture frame! It must have been so that they could target you through the windows easier!" She yells at me. We hide behind some crates. Though I can't hear it, I can feel that the building (which, now that I think about it, wasn't in public at all, but completely deserted ) is being surrounded. There is peace. Then machine gun fire tares through the walls and windows.

 I retain my courage, and develop overwhelming determination, and vow a way out of this. I must see the redhead again. I must.

Then I woke up.

I pray this is nothing prolific.

~Xavier R.

Jedi business. Go back to your drinks.

Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic
Cyanide & Happiness @

 After watching the Micky Ward biopic "The Fighter" co-starring a very bangable Amy Adams, with other people whom I deem unworthy of mention, I've decided that I shall pick up boxing again. Just training, that is, so I can get into 1337 shape and pwn some noobs. Uh, and stuff. Funny, how despite the fact I want to get into fighting condition, a very big part of machoism, I just can't stop with the n3rd stuff. I'm so proud of myself. 

So yeah, I've been off booze and drugs for sometime now, and been completely avoiding dairy because of my horrifying reactions to it. So, to completely ready myself for  my training, no more candy, soda, fast food, or sweet baked goods, and a limited amount of carbohydrates. I don't inhale candy or soda as I did when I was a child, but when you aren't doing drugs or drinking, you kinda...need too. What a pain. I'm also giving up my cigar a day/every other day habit and only enjoying one when I do something tremendous.

Like come up with this plan.

Cigar time.

Juuuuust kidding, not that it matters or that you care. 

Also, no more anonymous sex.

Juuuuust kidding, not that it matters or that you care.

So I'm 230 lbs, give or take a couple lbs for whatever reasons. I hope to see a 1 instead of a 2 in front of that number by the end up summer. Oh jeez I'm so shallow towards myself. Like, omg, I have the creative and technical writing capabilities of a 12 year old with downs. You know, like your little brother. No, not that one, the one you don't love and don't talk about.

Once again, a post about me. Me me me, me me me. Then again, I don't know about anything else. All I do is work, play music, read, play video games, masturbate, rarely get laid, eat, occasionally interact with other humans, and sleep. I don't even know if China or whatever has won the revolution. Let me check real quick...

I still don't care.

~Xavier R.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Making Music with Michael McCormack Part Two

So, me and and Charles Manson went to a pawn shop to see what rediculous prices they were asking for their third rate stereo/tv/musical equipment, which is always a hoot and a holler. What Manson and I weren't expecting was them to go in the completely wrong direction with their moronic pricing.
What we found was a Danelectro longhorn bass, which brand new should go for $350 to $400 because they're kind of a rarity in this state. A used one in working condition (as it is, a little dirty, but nothing functionally wrong) shouldn't really be sold for any less then $250 or $200.
I'm getting mine for $145.
My new bass. Mwa ha ha!

So, in between drinking, eating and finding bargains on musical gear, me and Charlie Manson were recording (or at least making a decent attempt at recording) a real, honest to goshness instrument version of the song I wrote and showcased here. The results weren't too shabby for two numbskulls with only a rudimentary grasp on the nuances of musical production. You'll hear it soon enough. But first, here comes another Guitar Pro demo.

Now, the impetus behind this song was Charles urging me to make what he called "Sparkle Music", needless to say I slapped him across the face and called him a homosexual.

 Pictured: Homosexual

So, what Charlie described as sparkle music sounded like "high reverb, treble heavy and atmospheric" to me, so that's what I went for. I don't know if it qualifies as "sparkly" enough, but at least I tried.

Now, just so you know, if you're going to sing lyrics badly to my music, do it in the right spots. The first and second verses are sung over the bass lines when there's no guitar after the first guitar part, the one you could call a chorus. If you were so inclined.
The last two are in the heavy parts. 

She puts on her lipstick and her white coat
puts her notebook in her tweed tote
her life is full of the analytical
in her thirties she's grown cynical
but on the borders, behind the the dark hall past
the bathroom door, drawn on the foggy glass
the shape of a heart, and a smiley face
break down the flow of that late night pace

all she ever wanted, was a man to stay
not to be afraid, not to go away
she's been oh so lonely, especially at work
her job is boring, not much in the way of perks
she sees a man for once, his lips look just like the sky
his eyes are cold, they ask her why
why they had to meet like this, couldn't they have known
each other when he felt, when he had clothes

all she ever wanted was a man to stay still
not to ever talk, to obey her will
to be ready for her, to fill her well
a love so cheap, it couldn't sell
And he's ready for her, as hard as rock
his hips are cold, so is his cock
her panties, pull down her thighs
when he's in her she lets out a sigh

"Oh I love you" she says as she grabs his jaw
pushing open closed, his stubborn maw
its cold and distant, but she comes just the same
she just climbs off, no number, no name
lights a cigarette and begins to cry
looking those pale eyes she asks "why?"
"why did we have to be like this? couldn't we have met?"
but she really knows, death is the only thing that makes her wet.

Or, you know, you can wait until I sing them. Whatever, it's cool either way.

On a very much related note, we've got a new writer, a prophet of the biochemical persuasion, I want you all the welcome him with your hands, mouths and moistened private parts.  

Especially you, fellas. He likes to be K.O'd and K.Y'd.

Love Big Mike.

Mmm, yes.

~Xavier R.