Collapsing Trust Funds

In the world of Spike Anderson, the piss jar is always half-full. Because I'm an optimist. Because I think my life is great. Because you are such a pile of shit by comparison. Fuck you!

Some people hate hipsters and do whatever they can to make sure they cut the drugs that they sell them with whatever was lying around the janitor's closet that I sleep in. But so what? You don't have to hate them, according to some fuck at the LA Weekly. Instead you can just...loathe them? despise them? What's another word for "kick their teeth in and steal their wallets?"

In the spirit of all of the ecstasy I choked down 4 minutes ago, here are some reasons to not hate hipsters:
1. ?
2. Their failures amuse me
3. Sometimes they actually come to shows and earn me my 850% cut.

Hey, number 3 ain't exactly going to fly what with Spaceland being sold off and all of LA's venues closing down. Hypothetical question for you: where are hipsters supposed to go when they're done eating their fair trade vegan bullshit? A shitty venue to see the next Shiloe-level catastrophe stand motionless on stage and stare at their equally motionless, shit-brained audience. The mass failure to do even that shows you that the poser level has hit "Ken Ramos" and keeps climbing.

As far as social movements go, the hipsters have really done a good job of killing good taste. The hippies had good music, the punks had good music, whatever the fuck people keep calling "grunge" was pretty decent...and now we're all stuck with Cobra Starship and the immense sense that nothing worthwhile is being said or played anywhere inside this country. That's why people hate fucking hipsters: BECAUSE WE NEED TO MOVE ON AND LOOK FOR SOMETHING NEW THAT'S WORTHWHILE.

"blind acceptance is a sign
of stupid fools who stand in line"
- John Lydon

Chasing Jimmy Paycheck

Let's face it, this country is full of hypocrites. When I show up at Costco on a Monday night and start passing out my own "samples", I always end up in the basement of some jail in Hawthorne. But when some fuck in Glendale starts shuffling his goods outside of The Smell on a Thursday night, he gets a full page spread in the Huffington Post.

Notice something about the kid smoking horse in the article?

Turns out he's a fuckin' hipster in yet another shitty obscure band t-shirt. Best free marketing the "League Champs" ever got. If you're reading this, League Champs, hire me as your manager and you'll have all these goddamned hipsters smoking skag like it was their boyfriend's pole.

I know how it is--it takes crazy things these days to get people to come to your gigs. You gotta get creative. Some people pass out heroin, others just take a shit in your car:

"When driving down Florence and Normandie, be wary of a man in a green suit and purple bow tie, sitting on what looks like an old leather trumpet case. He usually sits at the SE corner. When you pull up with your windows down he will come up to your car, pull his pants down, put his butt in your car through your side window, and take a dump in your car. I take the same street to work every day for the last seven years. I've seen this guy, who i call "El Dumpo Fiasco", do it about four times a year. I once saw him take a dump in this lady's escalade. He had to step on the side steps of the SUV. It was a monster dump. I could see it from behind the escalade, it came out looking like a burned sausage. The lady got so pissed she jumped out of her escalade and attacked the guy. The guy ran off yelling something like "Stay up Cain!!!". It was crazy. Weird thing is, he always targets white cars. Just make sure to put your windows up if you see the guy in a green suit and purple bow tie."

Music File Download for X-Mas

As you might have figured out by now, if you read the title and came here expecting music, you're a lemming who needs to be shown how to think for yourself (you can remove that Pitchfork.com bookmark from your shit folder, by the way). On one hand, it's a cruel trick. On the other hand, fuck you!

So here's how to live your miserable life--Step One: listen to fucking Bill Maher

I threw the first punch in Arizona

Preach on.....to the choir. Normally, I wouldn't go to Jello Biafra for some intelligent thought...(hey this is the man who thought a space punk version of "Moon Over Marin" was a good idea)...but this microdot gobbler actually has a coherent conversation with at least 5 or 6 concertgoers. This issue is extremely important as Spike Anderson, Esquire, has been threatened with legal action by the Culver City Library for my blogspot media empire. Of course it has nothing to do with my blog but rather I was caught sticking my johnson into the hard drive. But it wasn't my fault, why can't they make my mescaline a little less pure?!?

On A Side Note: It has been reported that after Biafra's grandstanding, the crowd injected paste, rubbed their crotches together, and drove home on their vespas.

In case you forgot Freedom ain't Free

Or at least that's what Julian Assange would be telling you...if he were allowed to but the judge denied him bail. That's good thinkin' Tex we can't let this little scumbag sandbag us. We also don't need more reasons to hate Hilary Clinton. We DO need more of Joe Lieberman making himself look like an asshole, that's pretty fucking funny. But, lets just get to the heart of this Julian...its all over for you. There are only two likely scenerios for your eventual daily beating and golden shower from your cellmate boyfriend Bubba. One way it could play out is that you have called the US Government out(rightfully) and will now see them seek unbelievable vengence on you because, well, they're pretty much run by the Mafia. The other way it'll go would be a little more interesting--you don't die(yet) and you become the next Alex Jones a cog in the disinformation campaign. At that point once you are no use to them they "let you go." If there is any justice, Julian, before you go down you take as many of these pig fuckers with you as possible. Good luck, did you sell my tickets to the Roxy yet?? I need the money by Friday. Fuck, where am I?! Jesus, the come down on this laundry detergent is a bitch....


your pal,

Spike

Target: the new Ameoba Records

If there were any justice in the world the only singing these fuckers would be doing is thru a Del Taco intercom asking what kind of sauce you want on your macho burrito or letting you know what time "Sparkles" will be hitting the stage at Jumbo's Clown Room.
Well you know...injecting coke into your ironic neck tattoo doesn't pay for itself! So when the funds are low and you're tired of banging the slump busters at Spaceland....release a fucking christmas album for.......TARGET!!!!!! Thats right, Target commercials aren't for rubbing one out to Zoey Daschanel and her autotuned crap ass anymore. "Hey we are the Wavves and we make horrible ear raping music for people who like to buy shitty Korean electronics at a premium price." At least you can make a bong out of the TV when it dies in 4 months (you know....conveniently after the 90 day warranty expires) which is more than I can say for a shitty Wavves seasonal song. Ever had your ass and ears raped at the same time? Well now you can because this questionable Wavves "song" is a collaborative effort with Best Coast. This is where you chug a bottle of industrial cleaner and ram poppers into your nostrils because death will come much faster. Listening to this shit excuse for a song will only prolong the pain. But hey, if that's your thing then download the song and I'll point you in the direction of a great Dominatrix from the classifieds of the LA Xpress.

Jerry's Deli, They'll Fucking Give you Hepititis.

These are the times that try men's souls...good thing I don't have one....what with all the forced penetration, urine hoarding, and he-she rendezvous. But times are lean and I've resorted to snorting the last traces of Ludmila's personal stash of smuggled butt hash off of my limp johnson. Oh, I didn't tell you? I'm married...or was married...yeah, she's Russian, she's called Ludmila, and she came in the mail.

Ludmilla, the busted cherry of my eye.

It's amazing what an Eastern Bloc chick will do when you give her some back alley dental work and an Iron Maiden mix tape. Shhh.....its not really Iron Maiden - just some shit grind band from Pico Rivera. But yeah, I traded her to Sergie for a handful of raver drugs but that shit only lasted the bus ride to the blood bank. No complaints, I got 10 bucks for some plasma and a full release from all the needle play in the lobby. But that only got me as far as the liquor store for a bottle of Cobra.

But, back to my point....actually I don't have a point..well besides the one I used to bust some trust-fund cherries in the Amoeba Records parking structure. Yep, I hate to admit it but I had to get a job. Wait, no...a real job...one that doesn't involve exploiting your band & your trust fund or blowing CEO's in the back alley behind Tribal Cafe. So naturally I applied to the first and ONLY roach infested restaurant that would let me bathe in their kitchen sink and give a skag-haggler like me a job - fuckin' Jerry's Deli. You know, its amazing what Javier, the head "chef", will let you do in the meat freezer for a tube sock and a half full can of spray paint. FUCKING SANDWICHES!!1 I don't know what got into me. There I was - Shitloe started playing on KXLU, I had just slammed a fist full of Fontana biker dope, and I found myself geeking out over the pig meat. My shit-fondling boss was yapping about the finer points of prosciutto and how it's not safe to cook pcp by the propane tanks and next thing I know I'm involved in some sweet horizontal action with the ciabatta rolls. The mustard ended up down my pants and I deposited whats left of my sperm count on the pastrami.

I must have passed out because the next thing I know I woke up next to a poodle carcass in a Norm's dumpster. Anyway, long story short...if you ate or touched anything...and I stress ANYTHING from Jerry's Deli in Westwood, congratulations....you have a nasty skid row leper strain of Hepatitis. Its not Hep C so it'll only destroy your craving for one of Jerry's dumpster reserve sandwiches, not your liver.

Steve Johnson to the Rest of the World: "Why do They have to make the Horse Dope So Pure?!!1"

Hey Kids let me start this off by saying I fully endorse blaming any and all things - especially God himself for stepping on my drugs...4 maybe 6 times...AND making them less pure. Or even sometimes when the drugs are TOO PURE. Just like my buddy Steve Johnson because if there's anything a omnipotent and omnipresent being cares about...ITS A FUCKIN' BUFFALO BILLS FOOTBALL GAME THAT DOESN'T EVEN FUCKING MATTER ANYWAY. Hate to break it to you Steve but your shit "team"(much like needling herbal ecstacy, chow-hounding whip-its, and finger banging Salvia dabbling trailer park shit kids) were mathematically eliminated from relevance when the team was founded.

Two rambling junkies talk to one another...on ABC's dime. I just want to know the name of their supplier.

Fucksgiving Time: Be Thankful Your Co-workers Haven't Heard Your Shit Band Yet

Yep, the ole spikester is combining both shitty holidays into one piece of shit holiday full of hate, rage and plenty of heroin-stuffed turkey for all. We have all the fixin's: OG asbestos shake and lawn shavings stuffing and loads of speed-infused yams from the Applebee's dumpster.

Someone who is clearly in need of some "medicinal" crank is Mitt Romney. The poor sonuvabitch was in the news again and he's going to need something to soften the blow of being second to Sarah Palin(aka Ken Ramos aka The Human Cock Vacuum) as a Candidate. Polls indicate that he's under Sarah Palin much like every fratboy in Alaska was during the Summer of 1964. Getting back to Mitt Romney here's a piece from his Bio:
"At the culturally conservative Brigham Young, Romney continued to be sheltered from much of the upheaval of the era, and did not join in the few protests against the war or against the LDS Church's policy against giving full membership to blacks."

Great...so he's a racist AND a pussy.

But, enough about Mitt Romney the guy should've been a fuckin' blow job.
+You know, Speed is a great holiday drug. When you're alone and in pain sometimes you need something to ease that pain. Or, in this case just speed the pain up.

Whatever you end up doing this holiday season just stay the fuck out of cerritos

It doesn't take much to get media coverage these days. So fundamentalists are idiots--what else is new? And yet apparently the super-heroin that just arrived in LA isn't newsworthy. That skag baron Savage Henry is kicking back in a Koreatown motel room, playing grab ass with the maids and laughing while we're reading about some righteous dickhead who had swinger sex but still feels he can dictate morality to us...did I forget to mention that you can get super pure heroin now?!?

Pure skag is arriving by the van load in Glendale as we speak. This is the best thing to come across the border from Mexico since Dora the Explorer...or maybe "Lean Like a Cholo"

Quoting the article now, some fuck said this: "These kids out here are being introduced to real serious drugs, dirt cheap, and they don't know how pure and dangerous they are." Finally some good news for a change!! But goddamnit, these gold brickin' kids wouldn't know a real drug if I held them down in the bathroom of The Smell and shot 'em up with whatever lint I found in the pockets of my shitty flight jacket.

Hey, you can't judge me until you've walked a mile in the plastic bags I use for shoes. Or spent a week living in the crawlspace I sleep in above my band's rehearsal room. Here she is, home sweet home:
Note the piss jug on the left (also my pillow), and the pipe that I scavenge for bong parts. Finally, see that white powder everywhere? The whole place is covered with a fine dusting of coke for easy snorting. Of course, when it comes time for someone else to rehearse there I have to go to a pay-by-the-hour motel and seethe bitterly until I can crawl back up there, but it's a small price to pay for living in my own filth and not bathing for weeks at a time. You've got to be willing to do what it takes to make it (except for getting a day job and actually buying a place with a shower), and if you're not even playing in a band and don't need to "make it" anywhere except the corner of Pico and Slauson you can just get hammered and jerk off into another band's headphones when no one's looking.

Whatever he's on...trademark it, patent it, and put it in the Library of Congress

MADISON, Wis. – A rural Wisconsin man apparently enraged by Bristol Palin's "Dancing with the Stars" routine blasted his television with a shotgun, leading to an all-night standoff with a SWAT team, investigators said.

Steven Cowan, 67, was arrested Tuesday morning after officers coaxed him out of his house in Vermont, a rural community near Madison. Cowan, who is accused of threatening his wife with the gun after destroying the television, appeared in a Madison courtroom Wednesday on a charge of second-degree reckless endangerment. His bail was set at $1,500.

Cowan's attorney at the hearing, Jonas Bednarek, declined to comment.

Cowan's wife, Janice Cowan, told investigators that her husband suffers from bipolar disorder and had threatened her life in the past.

According to court documents, Janice Cowan said her husband came home Monday from the bar and had a beer with dinner before they settled down to watch "Dancing with the Stars."

When Palin, the 20-year-old daughter of tea party favorite Sarah Palin, began her routine, Cowan jumped up and began swearing, saying something like "The (expletive) politics." His wife said he was upset that a political figure's daughter was dancing on TV even though he felt she didn't have talent.

Janice Cowan told investigators her husband left the living room and reappeared 20 minutes later with his shotgun, "raging" with his face bright red, and blasted the TV. She said he then pointed the gun at her and told her to go fetch his pistols, and threatened to kill himself if she brought anyone back. According to the criminal complaint, Steven Cowan's daughter recently took away his handguns for safekeeping. It did not elaborate.

"He scared the bejebees out of me," she told detectives.

Janice Cowan fled the home and went to an attorney's office, where she phoned police.

She told officers that about 15 years ago her husband had threatened her with a machete when he couldn't find some ammunition and has threatened to shoot one of their cows.

She added he was under stress because of financial reasons, saying a doctor helping him with his mental health problems had suggested he temporarily turn over control of properties he rents out to the family's attorney. Calls on Wednesday to a number listed as the Cowans' could not be connected.

The Internet has been abuzz in recent days about how Bristol Palin, who has consistently landed at the bottom of the judges' leaderboard, has been able to remain on the ABC show. Some have suggested that voters — particularly supporters of her mother — have been voting in blocs and manipulating the system.

Both Palins have denied any organized vote-getting tactics. Bristol Palin says voters support her despite lackluster performances because she started the show with no dancing experience.

your new phone company

SOONER OR LATER, IT HAD TO HAPPEN. At CREDO, we've been fighting the right wing with our activist network and with millions in donations to progressive nonprofits. We figured our punches were landing. We were right.

ON MONDAY, GLENN BECK TARGETED CREDO MOBILE ON HIS SHOW — putting us and our friends on his infamous blackboard. Upset about our actions against Sarah Palin's Alaska on the Discovery Channel, Beck said ludicrous things about CREDO and about some of the great nonprofit groups we fund, like Media Matters for America, Color of Change and the Center for Constitutional Rights.

HE CALLED US ALL "SPOOKY EVIL DUDES." We doubt that Beck would call companies like AT&T that. After all, AT&T contributes hundreds of thousands of dollars to right-wing politicians, like Michele Bachmann and her House Tea Party Caucus members.

SO MAKE THE SWITCH AND JOIN CREDO MOBILE, America's only progressive phone company. The more members we have, the harder we can fight blowhards like Beck.

There is one thing that Beck got right during his tirade against us: He said CREDO practices "progressive philanthropy and activism."

Since 1985, CREDO has raised more than $65 million for nonprofits like the ones Beck named. And our CREDO Action network of 1.5 million activists fights for progressive causes like net neutrality, marriage equality and a woman's right to choose.

When you join CREDO Mobile, you'll get everything you expect from a mobile phone company — plus a whole lot more. Sign up today and get:*

• 25% off your monthly fee for 12 months

• Contract buyout credit up to $200

• No contract for 30 days**

• FREE shipping

• Number portability; keep your current number

• Nationwide coverage on the all-digital Sprint® network, reaching more than 280 million people.†

So act now and get a great deal — and the satisfaction of knowing that your phone company is on Glenn Beck's hit list.

If you found this because you're looking for more reasons to hate CREDO because Glenn Beck fucking told you so then do us all a favor and go fuck yourself.

Glenn Beck has no problem with companies that give money to causes that he promotes but suddenly when another company wants to spend their money that company is a fuckin' threat to America. What a hypocrite!!!11 It's simple capitalism and people can spend their money any way they want, fuckhead. Even if you don't agree with it let people have an opinion. I'll never understand this motherfucker....Fuck it...Just..Fuck it.

-Tommy C.

Looks like the Government found a new way to interrupt my phone sex calls to Hong Kong

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Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor, Your Prison Bitches...Hey its the American Dream

http://www.sott.net/articles/show/217115-Prison-Economics-Help-Drive-Ariz-Immigration-Law

Last year, two men showed up in Benson, Ariz., a small desert town 60 miles from the Mexico border, offering a deal. Glenn Nichols, the Benson city manager, remembers the pitch.

"The gentleman that's the main thrust of this thing has a huge turquoise ring on his finger," Nichols said. "He's a great big huge guy and I equated him to a car salesman."

What he was selling was a prison for women and children who were illegal immigrants.

"They talk [about] how positive this was going to be for the community," Nichols said, "the amount of money that we would realize from each prisoner on a daily rate."

But Nichols wasn't buying. He asked them how would they possibly keep a prison full for years - decades even - with illegal immigrants?

"They talked like they didn't have any doubt they could fill it," Nichols said.

That's because prison companies like this one had a plan - a new business model to lock up illegal immigrants. And the plan became Arizona's immigration law. The law is being challenged in the courts. But if it's upheld, it requires police to lock up anyone they stop who cannot show proof they entered the country legally.

When it was passed in April, it ignited a fire storm. Protesters chanted about racial profiling. Businesses threatened to boycott the state. Supporters were equally passionate, calling it a bold positive step to curb illegal immigration. But while the debate raged, few people were aware of how the law came about.

NPR spent the past several months analyzing hundreds of pages of campaign finance reports, lobbying documents and corporate records. What they show is a quiet, behind-the-scenes effort to help draft and pass Arizona Senate Bill 1070 by an industry that stands to benefit from it: the private prison industry.

Behold A Pale Whore - Memoirs by Spike

Damn! I dreamt that I woke up swimming in a pile of reds and black beauties! The reality of the situation is that I actually woke up face down in a pile of half-chewed cocktail wieners and Jager. I swear that's the last time I cruise the Craigslist "Missed Connections" section looking for the power twink with daddy issues that caught my eye on that fateful autumn morning. Trust me, sausage and anise flavored liquor is not the throat-gasm drip you think it is. But then again, I'm used to having beef franks lodged in the back of my throat....sometimes for pay but mostly for play.

So, lamenting my existence, I decided to slam some methaqualone. Next, I wept and rubbed some seed over my collection of old handbills. Good times, but then two stuck together flyers caught my eye. As I peeled away the 1978 Halloween Show advert for my former band PLO Handjob, I found this picture underneath.



It is a Pakistan Airlines advert from the same year. Bad taste? Even worse than reclaimed dumpster meat? Or just the government shoving a cold cock in your ear.

Teabaggers: No Nuts, Not My Problem.

I know what you're askin. What the hell drugs are these Teabaggers ass slammin? Try this experiment. Take grandpa's tumbler and fill it with of Ammonium Nitrate. Now add a AA battery and put it in the microwave and press cook. Now while you're watching your house go up in flames slam an Ether/409/PCP cocktail up your urethra. Feel the burn cause you got the Rand Paul fever.

Which brings me to my point, its time for me to update the list of things teabaggers hate. So far, after a quick glance at the LA XXpress, we've established that the Tea Party hates black people, mexicans, vegetables, craft brew, actual currency, facts, admitting that their teenage daughter is pregnant-barefoot-married to a mexican and or black man, filtering their chain e-mails for racist and furpie content, reality, any gun that isn't fully automatic, school, college, advanced degrees that you earn in college, fluoride, and now women.

Shit, I haven't seen that many middle aged white men attack a woman with a pixie cut since the great Mendocino Snuff Film Festival of '79. I mean fuck, The Earthquake never even got that much velocity on his ass hammer.



And now straight from a black balloon, I'm hearing the man responsible for the "teeth on the curb" thuggery wants an apology from the victim. That takes balls- And in a perfect world, those balls should be whacked off like el gordo swingin' away at his birthday pinata!

Nazi's, Fucking Up The Gene Pool!

A Microscopic view of Eye Herpes cross contaminated with Butt Chlamydia and 3 Nazis.

Looking Good Sweethearts!!1

Punk Rock....As a society, we are doomed.

CVS...because who else will sell you drain-o, batteries, and ephedrine at the same time?

AP News Break: CVS to pay $75M fine for meth

By Greg Risling, Associated Press Writer

Posted: 10/14/2010 10:35:03 AM PDT

Updated: 10/14/2010 10:37:22 AM PDT

CVS Pharmacy Inc. has agreed to pay $75 million in fines for allowing repeated purchases of a key methamphetamine ingredient that led to a spike in Southern California drug trafficking, federal prosecutors said Thursday.

It was the largest civil penalty under the Controlled Substances Act.

CVS, the nation's largest operator of retail pharmacies, will also forfeit about $2.6 million in profits from pseudoephedrine, prosecutors said.

Authorities said CVS didn't adequately monitor sales of pseudoephedrine, which is found in cold medicine and used to make meth.

They also said the company violated federal drug regulations in at least five states.

CVS Chairman and CEO Thomas Ryan says the company unacceptably breached its policies and has worked to fix the problem.

Newsflash: Self-Proclaimed "Poser" Called Out on Being Human Cock Vacuum!

Anyone who claims that their real name is "Poser" has got some kind of mental problem, and not the good "Iggy Pop" kind of mental problem that makes you writhe around stage and punch Michigan bikers while you're wearing a spandex bodysuit. So ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Rivers Cuomo's number one fan--some fuckin' throwback who wants his shit band to sound like some sort of goddawful 50's record playing in the Ruby's Diner where your cousin found a cock-ring in his coleslaw. Traumatizing.

I met this man in a parking lot in Rosemead, and I gotta say I was impressed. A cold, pale, shivering guido Michael Jackson apparently unaware that it was 90 degrees out in the Starbucks parking lot, he offered me my first big break (and none of the oxycontin he'd probably been snorting all day in his car): "We've got a major label showcase we can play in my grandpa's tool shed." Well, the Spikester is full of regrets. Missed rails, Shiloe gigs where I could have hit Ken Ramos in the face with a boot and/or bottle of Steel Reserve...but never a regret about pissing all over the cock jockeys of the world who are just trying to dangle something in front of people to get them to play their shit music. Here is my final word, gloriously plastered all over this shithead's lies on music connection:

"this guy is so full of shit it's not funny. Major label showcase? I played with him about a year ago and apparently he's still looking for someone for this supposed showcase he's got lined up. What I want to know is, what would he do if he even played in front of people from a record label? His songs sound fucking godawful!"

Poser had this to say in response, "I just want what any weezer fan wants...to be 40 and still doing embarrassing shit like this. Yet, even after being a stupid useless dipshit for the last 15 years, releasing some of the worst music ever made, there are STILL enough brain dead fuckwads clamoring to buy my musical diaherria. Now, that's progress!!"

I will leave you with the knowledge that Weezer fans are sending some genius death threats simply for trying to stop this and this from ever fucking happening again!! If they let Weezer "craft" another album my favorite "mexican food" stand on pico won't be able to make enough heroin tacos to keep me from losing my shit completely. If Weezer doesn't ever make another album then...you're welcome.

You mess with the Spike, You get the AIDZ needle!

Listen up fuckos, I'm only going to say this once. If you hire me to book your gigs and you fail to either give me my goddamn fucking 250% or let me practice my vein marksmanship on your arm, I will fuck you. I know, I know, your band is too good to play the Roxy Parking lot because Pedro and his gang of valet's won't buy your merch or turn down their ranchera accordion mess on the shortwave. Deal with it, I'm inside the Roxy mainlining whatever I can shake out of your mom's purse and chugging happy hour courtesy of your dad's gold card...now shut up! But fine, give me one more opportunity and I'll get you the gig of your dreams. Coincidentally, your band and your culo just became the wet dream of every knuckledragger on C Block. The moral of the story is rock 'n roll doesn't have time for your crossover band and unless I get mine, neither do I.

Band arrested after blocking southbound 101 freeway to perform

HOLLYWOOD — An apparent publicity stunt by a band snarled traffic on the southbound Hollywood (101) Freeway in Hollywood today, leaving thousands of motorists stuck in a miles-long backup.

The driver of a large black truck decorated with pictures and the name of a band turned the vehicle across several lanes of freeway traffic near Sunset Boulevard shortly after 11 a.m., leaving just one lane barely passable, according to California Highway Patrol Officer Jennifer Connelly.

As traffic ground to a halt, three members of the band climbed on top of the truck, put up an American flag and began performing. Police arrived and the three were arrested, but another person took the keys to the truck and drove off in another vehicle.

Police had to call in a tow truck to remove the truck.

The truck was removed and the lanes were reopened shortly after noon.

The band, the Imperial Stars, are a self-described "hard core hip hop band" from Orange County, according to its website. The group has a song called "Traffic Jam 101."

Booking Your Own Goddamned Gigs: Killing Time Until the lnevitable 12 Gauge Buffet

Unlike the art of cooking up over a $10 camping stove on the street without getting caught, booking gigs is an art form that few have mastered. There's an obvious reason why: bookers really don't want to be found by you because you and your band are like a cancer on your local music scene. Booking you is a sure way for any bar to lose money, reputation, or celebratory after-gig rails off the monitors. Some people still don't know that they're shit, so I felt obligated to offer my unwanted advice free of charge all over their facebook event page: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=161145733911192&v=wall&story_fbid=163643150328117

When these guys wake up in about 2 hours and see that I've pissed the truth about their gig all over their fuck page, they're probably not going to be too happy. They'll probably panic and delete everything to keep the 1 person who actually will show up from canceling. So to preserve my beautiful, hallucinatory wisdom I offer you a transcript:

=====================

(Note: Radio City New Island Rock had just given me admin powers of their event page for absolutely no reason.)

Spike: Holy shit, I'm an administrator? Can I abuse my powers to ban you all to a life of dinner show gigs at Uncle Charlie's Saigon Hepatitis Hut? You go on at 3. AM or PM, it doesn't really matter either way.

Them: We had no idea what powers we were bestowing you. I suppose If that's the place were Harrison Ford gets his tacos, then yes... Gig get's kicked off at 9

Spike: So your real gig starts at 9? Either there are no other bands desperate enough to play that taco hut you call a venue or your manager is a booker BJ machine. I'm putting my money on the first one...

(no reply)

Spike: I see that this venue also likes to randomly charge people admission for shows that no one would see even if they were being paid to go to them. Are you sure this place is in Witchita and not LA?!? http://www.myspace.com/thesecretastronauts/photos/23398983

(no reply)

Spike: Also, I don't know of many venues worth playing where the bookers post their phone numbers right on their myspace. The smell of desperation (and cooking heroin) is in the air...

Here's their shitty venue: http://www.myspace.com/rockislandli...veict
and here's the Relax Bar in LA (a shitty venue, but not as bad as fucking Dante's Pizzeria and Venue here): http://www.myspace.com/relaxbar

Notice the lack of booker's phone number?? It's because they don't want people flooding them 24 hours a day with word of their latest EP and/or meth acquisition. So let's face it, you've booked a shitty gig--what else is new? Just try to make the best of it and get all the free alcohol poisoning that you can before the bloat sinks in and your pasty body is found by a jogger behind the Smell.

(still no reply)

======================

[ By the way, here's a list of venues and their webpages to prove my point ]

Reality is cruel. Venues are run by idiots who hate music, The members of Shiloe still roam the earth, Passion Pit's "NAMBLA Patrol" tour still rolls on as they haven't hit a patch of black ice and Cliff Burton'd in their tour van, and the piss cup that was thrown at MGMT turned out to be a cup of stale Manchester ale. ALE?!? Goddamnit, I've lost my faith in everything now...

What more do I need to say? You don't stand a fucking chance of getting an audience to your gigs no matter what you do on stage. THE END.

Notes n' Coke

- Monsanto, which started out as one of the planets largest chemical companies is also responsible for such chemical compounds as Agent Orange, Bovine Growth Hormone, PCBs and genetically-engineered crops. They're still operating and spraying stuff all over the food we eat. Wanna get high? Just go down to the supermarket and buy some food they've sprayed their chemicals on. Did I say "high"? I meant "incredible chest pains and tumors." Shit's wild.

- Steve Albini sez "Sonic Youth stole my last eighth so now I'm gonna call 'em sellouts!" Anyone who sells more than 20 records is a sell out, I guess. Good news, Shiloe: you're still too worthless to sellout! Milk it for all the indie cred you can. Anyway, read the part of the interview where he says that he hopes GQ magazine fails....in an interview with GQ magazine. Yep, yet another person/company that won't ever return Steve Albini's calls again. Like his ex-wife. Or his family. Or anyone in the town he lives in. Which is why he had to break down and do an interview about music in GQ magazine in the first place -- no music magazine would talk to him. I'm looking forward to Steve Albini's interview in Home and Garden Magazine in 10 years after he's burned all his bridges. He'll call the interviewer a sellout, shit his pants, and start huffing from a paint can to keep the machine elves out of his brain. Another bridge needlessly burned, Fuck YEAH!

Viewer Mail

I get a lot of viewer mail as you can imagine(almost as much as I get VD in my ear canal). Mostly, its bullshit like "Spike how can I learn not to play my instrument and be a totally useless fuckwad." I normally would say to drink some paint thinner(that shit will mellow you right out) or better yet stick your dick in a wall socket so you might fucking wake up and stop being a "Ken Ramos." That guy is a shit stain waiting to happen.
Anyway, I have found the way. Before I show you this clip I must warn you that these assholes couldn't play anything told to them, so why the fuck are they putting their "jams" on You Tube?! I swear to god if I don't keep finding these useless hipsters desperately spinning their wheels I'm going to run out of material. Thankfully, there are enough shitheads with massive egos and no talent flooding los angeles. You're Welcome:

How Do We Evolve as a Society? By Mainlining Heroin into Your Ass

Here is Why Your Band is a Horrible, Miserable Failure

Why is your band doomed to play Canter's Deli's men's room YET AGAIN (and not get paid)? Because none of your fucking gigs sound like this!

Metallic KO by the Stooges.

If you're curious why it's the best live record, fast forward to the part where Iggy Pop responds to an audience that hates him by saying "We don't hate you. We don't even care!" This after already being pelted with anything that wasn't nailed down for 30 minutes or so already. There's nothing quite like a live album with audible "beer bottle hitting stage" sounds.

Or....

Queens of the Stone Age at the Bizarre Festival in a tiny German town called Weeze, Germany (Aug 18, 2001 - pre-Grohl)

"We'd like to end tonight by giving you something for your head. Something we can all fucking relate to in any language...and that's drugs."

Or....

The Doors in Miami, where Jim Morrison asks someone in the audience to come on stage and "love him", calls them "a bunch of slaves", tries to incite a riot, fails to incite a riot, and then settles for pretending to show the audience his penis.


Or....

The Oasis gig where meth'd up Liam runs around stage looking for a fix and hits Noel with a tambourine.


So in short, brutalize your fans and other band members, do lines of crystal meth off the monitors behind the stage, and make sure that your audience knows that they're all a buncha fuckin' idiots.

Cash Grab of the Week: Passion Pit the new Rolling Stones

I don't know how I came upon it but I did. A Bio for a band so ridiculous and insane that you'd think they were fucking making it up...and they are
It got me mad, well about as mad as I CAN get after huffing half my supply of paint thinner. Alright, I'm still pretty fucking mad.

Well, if you would've read their bio you would be mad too. I mean these guys haven't even accomplished anything outside of looking "pro," handing out their cds to be future redneck shotgun targets, and filling the "hexham heads slot" at big festivals. If playing at 2pm makes you a success then Im not a garbage picker, Im a new food designer. Playing to the hot dog vendor outside the venue doesn't count either. For the record that guy fucking loves your music...its too bad he doesn't speak english and can't figure out what the fuck you're saying.

Guess how the band started??? The douchebag in charge started singing shitty love songs to his girlfriend!! What the fuck!!11 So you can't just be a hipster you have to be a pussy too?? As much as I want to hear "I'm sorry I gave you chlymydia in your eyes when I was skull fucking you" I'd rather spend my money on a high ball of "x" with finger prints on it.
Fuck it here's half of their shitty bio(you don't want to read the whole thing, you're gonna have to trust the spikster on this one):

===================================================================
Michael Angelakos hears music in his head and knows exactly how he wants it to sound. The young composer/performer has already created two studio masterpieces -- Manners and Chunk of Change -- and -- with his fellow musicians in Passion Pit -- is taking his perfectionist pop vision to a whole new level in concert.

Soulful, memorable, danceable, earnest and unabashedly pop, the music Michael Angelakos delivers on Passion Pit's debut album, Manners, reveals a complex and challenging 21st century sound and sensibility, baroque and intricate in its construction with exquisitely soaring hooks and melodies coupled with enigmatic lyrics flowing straight from the id.

Launched a mere three years ago as a humble one man multi-track laptop project in Angelakos' college dorm room, Passion Pit has rapidly evolved under fire into an in-demand concert attraction, with sold out tours and a growing international reputation based on the power and immediacy of the music.

Passion Pit is a two-fold entity sharing a single essence: there's in-the-studio Passion Pit, essentially comprised of Michael writing, designing, and constructing intricate cathedrals of sound, and Nathan Donmoyer handling live percussion and programming. Ian Hultquist is also featured on Manners performing guitar on songs such as "Make Light" and "Moth's Wings." And then there is the in-concert Passion Pit, a loose yet tightly calibrated ensemble who turn Angelakos' musical studio blueprints into a cathartic live experience.

Angelakos was 20 years old when Passion Pit took its first hold on his psyche in the form of a multi-song "Valentine" to his then-girlfriend, recorded in his bedroom on readily available ad hoc technology including the built-in microphone on his laptop. After signing with indie label Frenchkiss, he opted to add more recordings that had been made shortly after the he self-released the collection of songs -- including the signature track "Sleepyhead."
====================================================================


No sane human being should ever write this kind of shit about themselves in any profession in any field anywhere. You're not curing cancer man, you're making the worst shit rock on the fucking planet. Only one question remains did they write their own bio or did one of their moms write it for them??

I don't know who this Nardwaur is, but she can't interview for shit!

No Peace Until the Stars Run Cold

Dreams. We all have them. Some dreams, like yours, are fucking worthless. Mine are like diamonds. Or, you know, a brick of uncut skag or something.

One dream that I never had was to become a political advisor. Still, I can't help but try sometimes when I meet a candidate like Mitt Romney or Wink Hartman (R-KS). Wink...now there's a bold human being. Bolder than bold. Bolder than the fact that I'm using the word "bold" even though I have no idea what it means in this context. Motherfucking Shit Ass BOLD.

Anyway, Wink Hartman is a worthless bastard because he refuses to accept my campaign slogan suggestions. Here's a taste of the pure fucking gold that has been pouring out of the Facebook account that Wink has still been unable to block:

- Wink Hartman--finally a congressman who can describe the taste of human brains in real detail!

-Wink Hartman: Tough man, gentle raping.

- Wink helps dealers in the community by buying 20 lbs of pure smack every day, all to support the local street economy. No other candidate cares about stemming the currently ballooning heroin exchange rate (and speaking of heroin and balloons, Wink makes a great drug mule). Finally a candidate that addresses the issues YOU care about!

- Wink Hartman: Recently cleared of ALL 28 counts of human slavery and trafficking.

- Kennel the elderly! Join Wink Hartman!

- Vote for Wink Hartman--Because we're all doomed anyway. Might as well hassle the Mexicans a bit before we go, eh?

- Stay on the Anti-Christ's good side: Vote Wink Hartman for Congress in 2010.

Punch a CEO in the Dick

I used to be a janitor once. I got fired for huffing whatever was inside of the plastic spray bottles they gave me. Hey, it was a pretty intense 20 minutes of work, and I needed some refreshment. So I just walked off the job in protest with a free janitor's cart full of all the supplies I need to make some potent Riverside County-strength crank. So much for my first day at work. Suckers!

The point is, no one needs janitors. The people in Century City have said as much in between corporate coke meetings and the inter-office stroke fest that surrounds their meaningless lives. They let janitors strike and close down traffic in protest a few days ago, presumably because they were too busy trying to shovel cash into each others pockets to notice what was going on. Some jagoff wrote an opinion article that sums up nothing about what happened, but that's not that important. What's really important is that janitors are making people wait in traffic for 20 minutes. The nerve of those nasty bastards! We oughtta bring in compact M79s full of CS gas and then have armor roll over whatever is still left on the streets. Nothing short of death is an acceptable punishment for making Steve Payraise late for his daily after work wife-beating, orgy, and/or NAMBLA club meeting.

Ah, that sweet shameful dregs of humanity that I call the internet. Want to see the publicly exposed prejudice of corporate America? Look at the comment section of any LA Times news article--especially one that is in any way related to immigration, immigrants, or even mentions in passing something about Mexico. There you will find self-described corporate executives openly commenting that "the world doesn't need $13.50/hour janitors. Go back to your home countries and look for work there."

My heart smiles with joy at this man or woman's words about exactly how these people should live their lives. Of course he knows what he's talking about, he makes more money per year than you! If he tells you something (i.e. that the holocaust is a Jew sympathy ploy, or that the hollow earth is filled with half-Jew Ry'Leth people who can suck your soul out through your spine like spaghetti) it has to be right. For chrissakes, what's wrong with these people? Don't they recognize the truth when they hear it?! Don't worry, Joe Fuckforbrains has a simple solution to all worldly problems: simply "go back" to your home country. And if you're a Hispanic person born in America, as many of these janitoral workers probably are, then you should just throw a dart at a map of Central America and "go back" to whatever country it lands upon. It makes total fucking sense! Pay no attention to the fact that even a 13 year old, buzzed off his tits from chewing on Elmer's brain-melting glue sticks all day, can poke more holes in that argument than an old world picayune whore house.

So, to recap:
- Being rich means that you're right about everything, and if someone disagrees you can always make some calls; bring in some heavies for ten bucks a head (plus expenses) to come over off the boat like a pack of goddamned wolverines. They'll crack every skull in the city if they have to...and burn all the office buildings right to the ground.
- Poor people are the cause of all problems, everywhere.
- Fuck off!

The Church of Fuckwadology: Rabid Notes from the Heathen Underground

"Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of public humiliation."
- Fox Mulder

Layette "Ronnie" Hubbard, a fine piece of humanity if there ever was one, is at the top of the shit list today.

Why?! Fuck you, that's why!! What is this, public school for the hopelessly retarded? "Spike tell us why we're all fucking useless and will be cleaning the floors of the Denny's down the street for the next 48 years after the trust fund runs dry ." If you don't know enough to stay away from Scientology and anyone involved with it, then you deserve to get sodomized by a rabid Tom Cruise. No more distractions. I need to finish this so I can get back to shooting smack directly into the base of my skull.

So I was sleeping in a washed out cardboard box next to another cardboard box when some toolbag with an e-reader came up and asked if I wanted a free stress test. Ten months later and I was Operating Thetan level 3 and meeting all kinds of glamorous, washed-up, secretly gay movie stars. I had thetans on my brain: I did thetan auditing, thetan reharmonization, I was snorting assbumps of high-grade meth off a Venezuelan woman named Thetan...ah, but nothing good lasts when you're finely twisted on religion and 16 other untraceable substances.

Anyway, I'm still out there looking to get my kicks from the next water-brained cult. Religion is a drug and I've already poured it onto a plastic bag and tied it over my head. Like most other drugs, I plan to mainline religion on a semi-professional basis and collapse all of my arteries, veins, and vas deferens to make the nut. Okay, that last metaphor was shit, but you're still lucky to be hearing my scripture without the use of heavy chemical encouragement.

I bring to your attention the Church of Euthanasia. It's a church which advocates mandatory suicide and bandies about slogans like "Eat a Queer Fetus for Jesus". They'd get a stomping from the suckbags from the 700 Club if they didn't scare the hell out of everyone so much. But why? Was it because of this--Following the September 11, 2001 attacks, the CoE posted to its website a four-minute music video titled I Like to Watch, combining hardcore pornographic video with footage of the World Trade Center collapse. (from Wikipedia)

So where do I sign to become an ordained minister?

Glen Beck's "Rally"

Hey Guys, Larry here. Sorry about the multiple pictures I knew I shouldn't have mixed absinthe with a spoonful of speed and some low-grade acid. Anyway, while Spike is taking a coke nap I figured I would let you in on a secret. I'm going to that Glen Beck Rally this weekend. I need to know some things from the man himself.
Like why he's saying he will "Take back the Civil Rights Movement." You can't say shit like that after you've already said this:





OR THIS:






I could fucking do this all day. See I need to find out if Glen Beck is a complete moron who just says whatever comes into his head and can't stop himself(even if that thought is incredibly racist and ignorant) or if he is in fact an evil motherfucker. Maybe he understands that by aligning himself with The Tea Party there are some things he really shouldn't say. Especially, when the Tea Party do this:




OR THIS:




The funny thing is if you search you tube for footage of Tea Party harassment its not on there. Now someone like Glen Beck would probably say "That's because it doesn't exist." Of course...he's a fucking moron. THE TEA PARTY OBVIOUSLY JUST GOT AN IMAGE CONSULTANT. Maybe someone like this: http://www.clean-search.com/
See currently all these fucks have to do is ask someone to take something down. They apparently can also make the congresswomen who was SPIT ON by them look like a racist herself by putting up videos that are extremely misleading:
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=sheila+jackson+lee&aq=f.
The Right Wing Owns the TV, the Radio, and now THEY OWN THE INTERNET.
But, I got off my point. I'm going to the Glen Beck rally but not without my Assault Intervention Device: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_jail_ray_gun

That fucker can make someone shit themselves in 4 seconds flat and it works on multiple people. It can even work on a crowd. I'll fry these fucks like bacon in a heroin soaked pan(that's how spike likes his). I'll need to test this device first of course, anyone have Sarah Palin or Dick Cheney's address handy? Yes, I must test it first to be sure. No professional would settle for less.


Get Ready BeckHeads:

No Hope for the Twisted

Managing bands full of posers like you makes it hard for an honest base head to rub out a dollar from the glass teat called "showbiz". I've had to take part time jobs at different massage parlors, bath houses, coke dens, drug warehouses, the trash can behind Amoeba Music, etc. You're thinking, "Why would anyone hire a smack-fiend who ties off over the nearest sink every 16 minutes?" One word: fucking skills!

Take my last job at the taco cart that I stole from some guy on Cienaga. Did you know that most fast food places have a secret menu? Take the white trash pill-head's den known to you fucks as In-N-Out Burger. Now, I had my own version: if you knew how to order (i.e. by using your mouth) you could get a coke-rolled churro, cup full of pure mescaline on ice, heroin-soaked taco, or a tortilla filled with various pills that I tried to pass off as a burrito. It was all part of my grand dream of mixing Mexican food with a cut-rate "dispensary" made out of my leavings from my latest bender--hey, it was big with grade schoolers (although not so big with that undercover cop).

Three months and 10 jugs of prison hooch later and I'm ready to go back to the honest life of promising burnouts 7 PM timeslots at the loading dock of Macy's in Culver City. Can't an honest entrepreneur foist his mind-altering chemicals on people without The Man getting all bent over it?!

A Dose of Reality

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