Videos of the week!

Spinal Tap - Gimme some money


Evil Dead 2 - Eye pop!


LSD Experiments


Morrissey - I want the one I can't have

Shoot em' up

Every once in a while, you're bound to have an unorthodox kind of day. It's probably the result of some cosmic lottery that we're too poor to buy tickets for, who knows, right? Anyway, yesterday was one of those days for me. For starters, it was my day off from work and like any American man, I had hoped to take care of some errands and then slay a bottle of something strong. My, how plans change I tell ya...

I got a telephone from one of the fabulous ladies that make up my department telling me that they were short staffed and asking if I could come in. Of course I gladly accepted because I have this really weird hyper-dedication thing when it comes to what I do for a living. Anyway, after being there for a little while, it seemed as though it would be a regular, run of the mill afternoon. That is until two representatives of the Worst Losers in America Club decided to make their afternoon mine.

Our first interaction was short, but poignant. There they were, prime examples of pure crust punk awkwardness in all of their barefoot glory. I had gotten word that there were people asking for money and as an earner of my money... I went to stop it. I approached them and explained that shoes were important and unless there was a pool, puddle, stream, river, ocean, masseuse, or foot worship convention within twenty five feet of our conversation... they'd have to be respectable, don some combat boots or whatever and not be barefoot in the lobby of an active building.

"I'm gonna be a rock star... rags to riches!" proclaimed the male crusty with his eyes almost closed and a sense of balance akin to one of those inflatable boxing clowns that never falls down. "Yeah!" said his female friend with similar eyes and teeth that would make a dentist faint because they can't possibly teach that shit in American dental schools. Regardless of the nonsensical answers they provided, they shuffled off looking high as hell. Also, they smelled like a dirty basement. Really... I used to have a basement and it was filthy so I know.

Now, before any defenders of crust punks hop out of the woodwork to stick up for freedom, punk rock, or anything else... just don't. I was homeless and on every drug the world has seen between the years of thirteen and sixteen and not once did I decide to fail as hard as these two.

Hours passed and then I got the 911 call. All I knew is that there was a man down. Nothing else. I responded as fast as I possibly could and upon my arrival I actually wasn't shocked to see the "rags to riches" kid laying unmoving on the floor, totally blue, not breathing, unmoving. Basically, for all intensive purposes... dead. His female tooth model friend was in hysterics, but obviously high out of her mind. To her credit, she did call 911, so that was impressive. As I walked toward the boy, she began to give him the most awkward CPR I'd ever seen. I was glad she was doing it though because anything helps I guess.

I got her out of the way and gave it all I had in me... but because these two looked so diseased and "AIDSY" I made her blow into his mouth while I did the chest compressions. This lasted over two and a half minutes, but it was worth it... I think.

Something told me that this kid was going to die soon whether or not it was with me in the room.

When he came to, the first thing he muttered was a quiet "fuck you" to me and then he mentioned to the arriving paramedics that he was "gonna be a rock star."

His girl was then arrested for possession and so was he after they were released from the hospital. Awesome times kids! Remember: drugs are super cool. They will make every minute of life appear more glamorous*

UPDATE 5/8/10:

I saw the OD kid on the train today while heading to work. As I sat there writing in my notebook (secret stuff about rockets and shit) I could feel him looking at me so I glanced in his direction. All I could see was hatred in his eyes. Pure, undiluted hate. I paid him no mind because I was done with him. I had already filed the incident away as all in a days work, but not him. Nope. It was obvious to me that he hated me because I let him live and now he had to live the same self imposed nightmare he'd been living prior to our chance meeting. As he stared I could feel his gaze, but instead of looking over and asking him what the fuck he was looking at, I just sat there writing in my book (again, super secret stuff about rockets and stuff)

Later in the day I thought about his angry, bloodshot eyes and you know what? If I see him again I think I'll ask him what the fuck he's looking at? If he's brave enough to answer, which I doubt... I'm going to make sure he never looks at me again because in my head, a guy like that with no hope on the horizon, could easily try to stab me or some shit. I haven't asked, but I'm pretty sure my two daughters would set fire to a major city if I was ever hurt. Love... it's stronger than dirt.

Elvis Presley was a fine king...

http://sharebee.com/abef5c31

Click here to listen to the bacon fry.

It's funny...when you were a kid you kind of looked at your parents music as lame because you wanted to listen to nothing but heavy metal and punk rock, but then you get a little older and realize that your parents knew something that you were way to much of a proud idiot to notice.

You realized that a lot of the older stuff was so much more rockin' than you would've imagined. Now, I didn't really have that problem because although my parents were a prostitute and a junkie, they did have awesome taste in music and they convinced me really early. Well, except for my brief infatuation with the Village People. This has nothing to do with the Elvis record I ripped from vinyl for you, but I thought I'd share. I wonder what my daughters are going to think of the White Stripes? I use that as the reference point because Elvis is going to seem as old to them as the T-Model Ford is to me.

Enjoy C'mon Everybody by the King, Elvis Presley!

Peter Doherty - Acoustic Lullaby

http://sharebee.com/7dd0ade5

Click here for a little heartache.


Oh Pete, I remember you when you were a fresh faced young man who was just experimenting with illegal substances. We were having fun. Who would've thought you'd like them so much? Anyway pal, we're not mad at you. No sir. If you need to be high all of the time, then so be it. Just do us a favor...don't die. We still love you. Thanks.

PS. Stay away from Winehouse. It's just too much of a mind warping crack blast that occurs when the two of you occupy the same space. Our veins can't handle it. Plus, she makes you look fat.

Best albums of Oh,robot time - Velvet Underground & Nico

http://sharebee.com/d665b2d7

Click here to continue waiting...for the man.

Alright kids...grab your weed and meet me in the basement for some drinks and maybe a film blasted on the panel wall by an old school projector.

That's the feeling I get when I hear this record. It just makes me want to be semi concious with a half empty glass of whiskey dangling from my hand while I lay naked beside an unconventionally beautiful passed out Italian girl.

There isn't too much that I could say that hasn't been said. With that...enjoy this album.

Best albums of all Oh, robot time - Ol' Dirty Bastard - Return to the 36 chambers: The dirty version

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Click here to request limo service to the welfare office

Okay folks, here is an unusual offering at oh,robot. I'll explain why there is a hip hop record on an otherwise rockin' blog. I've decided that I will now be posting albums with great personal relevance under the post title: Best albums of all Oh, robot time

First things first, I love hip hop music. Second, I haven't listened to hip hop radio since 1999 because it's really, in my opinion, a parody of itself. I know I risk sounding uncool or not with the times by saying that rap today is in a seriously sorry state. I mean, where are the entertaining lyricists? Why is it that whenever a car driven by a baseball capped thuggish looking dude drives by the only thing I can hear is high hats and sing-songy hooks? I can't understand why the "Diplomats" are so popular? The same goes for 90% of other popular acts.

Ludacris can rap. Kanye can rhyme. Everyone else however, just seems to be retelling the same guns/drugs/ho's/platinum crap that Puff started. Damn you Puff. By the way, is he even relevant anymore?

There is a curmudgeonly old man inside of me that is really mad that Company Flow, MF Doom, Cage, Atmosphere, Micranots, Natural Elements, etc; never shared their talents with the masses. Sure, I think it's great that they've been the personal private artists of a small percentage of (mostly European) fans, but c'mon? How is it that Lil' Scrappy or whatever the fu*k is gonna tell you something relevant? I guess he might if relevance equals "guns/drugs/ho's" to you, but to me...stuff like that just makes Bill Cosby upset. And we don't want to make a Huxtable mad do, we?

Enough ranting...let's unite under the flag of hip hop tonight.

I present to you an album that, although has more than enough rhymes about guns/drugs/ho's/welfare...is still incredible because at least nobody can accuse Mr. Russell Jones of "phoning it in." A lot of people might hate this record but they are also the same people who hate kittens...or babies.

Charles Manson Sunday. No reason...

http://sharebee.com/e0e003f6
Click above to have a creepy crawl

These two albums show a different side of the man the world hates. A more...romantic side, should I say? They'll never let him out of jail though...

...but that's okay because he has a Nazi stamp on his face and nobody thinks that'll go great at the market.

"Harriet, look...isn't that..."
"We're dead."