Monday, October 25, 2004

Looks like Jigga needs to "Jogga"

The emboldened portion of this weblog entry is based on what I would say if I wrote headlines for rap tabloids and Jay-Z was a fatter personality. The non-emboldened portion is based on what I'm thinking about as I type this. Oh no I hate mondays?!
They are so bad. Worst thing about monday is the fact that there is no Saturday Night Live on monday, and in case you didn't know, SNL is the new platform where Ashlee Simpson is shamed, and that is a good, daresay postively earth-changing "ting".

Look at what SF Weekly had to say about my friends Allyson and Carson's band Parchman Farm, who were runner up best San Fran Hard Rock Band:

Parchman Farm

Far be it from us to quote from a band's official biography, but in the case of Parchman Farm -- whose press release says as much about the group's sense of humor as it does its sound -- it's too hard to resist. Big riffing guitarist Allyson Baker is said to be "a Jewish version of Ted Nugent," hence her nickname, "The Jewge." The spastic bass lines of Carson Binks are called "lead bass, but not in an annoying fretless Les Claypool way or in a nu-metal style." Drummer Chris LaBreche, it is claimed, owes his style to "Grand Funk Railroad drummer Don Brewer." The colorful combination is topped off by ex-Mover frontman and guitarist/singer Eric Shea's gritty yelps, the sort that make you nostalgic for Sabbath, the South, and The Dukes of Hazzard. The group's self-titled debut EP provides us with a heavy dose of psychedelic '70s riffing, with songs that conjure a time when pulling out a lighter at a concert wasn't ironic, mustaches outnumbered goatees, cowbells were a standard part of a drum ensemble, and "heavy metal" bands dressed like Thor. The proficient dual solo attack of bass and guitar, which in most cases would come off as annoying, here works to the band's advantage, strewing heavy gobs of distortion gravy, beneath which LaBreche employs his knowledge of every drum solo Bonzo ever committed to bootleg. "They are like a shark riding on top of an elephant, just stomping and chomping everything in sight," the bio claims -- a truth as accurate as any.

Sweet! And hey guess what? I 'punched up' their bio! 'Punching up' theoretically means 'made funnier'. I love punch ups.
Also, recently I did an online interview for an "E-ZINE" put together by a fellow named Stu who works at a clothing shop by day. Cut and paste this if you want:
I had a bit of a bizay weekend. Friday I embarassed myself to a roomful of uncaring collegiate types at a reggae bar, and then argued with a lady who hated my jokes, but soon grew to love my eyebrows, or non-lack there of. Afterwards and during I partied so heartily, reminding me of days where I did that sort of thing more. Days like last saturday. This past saturday(not to be confused with 'last' saturday), I had the misfortune of seeing Matthew Good do his music to me. Ow. It was being like sodomised in the ear by a demonic baby. I do not speak from experience. An ex-marine described the feeling to me. Then sunday I went to my cousin's wedding and didn't feel Jewish enough, so when nobody was looking I ran to the restroom(I'm trying to get used to saying 'restroom' so that America will accept me more) and tattooed extreme sideburns onto my face and asked Europe to hate me more vociferously. Jogga what jogga who?

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