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.

Looking Good Sweethearts!!1

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

The Coachella of My Burning Asshole!

Hey, how's the sunburn? Did you remember to drink enough fluids. Ho boy, you must be tired what with all the synthetic Sky Valley peyote, $30 vegan tacos, and one giant sized Thom Yorke elvish kick to your nutsack!

Oh wait, let me translate for all the folks that don't speak hipster. Every 20somethings favorite holiday in the sun occurred this past weekend. Ahem, you know The Coachella Festival? Yep, a big sucking musical magnet for fledgling date rapists, unicorn forest camp counselors, and chain smoking 50 year-old desert hot springs bartenders has 'happened', man.

And now the blog-o-sphere lights up as light stick wielding attendees rush to see how they can keep the sex train rolling until next spring's party in methland.

But before the Spikester leaves, I just wanted to let everyone know a little bit of information. You see, I'm sure Thom Yorke and his glacier saving ass cashed a check this weekend. Probably looked something like this....


Ok, back to my point. You see, I'm sure lots of people drove their pink Prius's to the polo grounds in order to hand over their hard earned skag money to uh...

A. Bilderbergers
B. Illuminati
C. the man
D. a very bad man
E. an undercover popper selling cop
F. AEG
G. All of the Above.

Before I post this family tree for all of you american apparel wearing fucksticks, keep in mind AEG, the owners of the Coachella Festival, also bears the same name as the defunct German motor manufacturer AEG that donated money to the MOTHERFUCKING NAZIS! Just a coincidence, but the Spikester loves to weave a great story.


The Coachella Festival - The Cold Hard Truth...as documented by a junkie

The Coachella Festival is promoted by Goldenvoice and owned by AEG.
AEG, or Anschutz Entertainment Group, is owned by the The Anschutz Corporation.
The Anschutz Corporation was founded by Philip Anschutz.
The Anschutz family owned the largest oil field in the United States.
The Anschutz family sold half of the interest to the oil field to MOBIL.


"Coachella debuted in 1997 with Rage Against the Machine and Beck headlining. Because of low attendance and high production costs, the then-independently owned Goldenvoice lost at least $750,000 on the inaugural festival. It did not stage another edition of Coachella until 2001, the same year it was bought by AEG Live (which now also owns a controlling interest in the San Diego Sports Arena)."

"We almost didn't do Coachella this year," said Paul Tollett, 44, the organizer and founder of the 11-year-old show, which is promoted by concert heavyweight Goldenvoice and owned by AEG in Los Angeles. "We felt the economy wasn't looking so hot. But festivals seem to be hanging in there, and I'm as surprised as anyone." - LA Times

"In May 2001, the Bush administration upheld Anschutz's right to drill an exploratory oil well at Weatherman Draw, in south-central Montana where Native American tribes wanted to preserve sacred rock drawings. "

"Often identified as "Christian billionaire Phil Anschutz"^[20], he is a Republican donor who supported George W. Bush's administration. He has been an active patron of a number of religious and conservative causes:"

"Helped fund Colorado's 1992 Amendment 2, a ballot initiative designed to overturn local and state laws that prohibit discrimination against individuals on the basis of sexual orientation but was invalidated by Romer v. Evans after it passed."

"Helped fund the Discovery Institute, a think tank based in Seattle, Washington that promotes intelligent design and criticizes evolution"

"Supported the Parents Television Council, a group that protests against television indecency"

"In 2009 Anschutz purchased the conservative American opinion magazine The Weekly Standard from Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation.^"

Ok, I'm lazy and im getting the whiskey shakes. Folks, if the Spikester could spend 5 minutes scouring the web for information on the Coachella Festival, or as I like to call it, "Geezer Cash Grab/Hipster Void Drug Fest", then imagine what you could do with a GED and a computer that isn't owned by the County Library. Just remember, vegan tacos and 20 dollar donation to save the rain forest are really code for "so, have you heard Hot Chip's B-sides and uh, wanna fuck?".

One more time, Coachella - you, yes - your ass is putting lots and lots of coin into the pockets of a guy who wants you to believe that all dinosaurs, with the exception of Paul McCartney, never existed. He hates obscenity but promotes MGMT and She & Him ear rapings. Look, the Spikester doesn't give a fuck about Coachella and how many dead seals I get to club for the show to go on. In fact, I applaud Thom Yorke for gettin' paid and all the fossil fuels spent is just a bonus. The point is, I hate your ass!

You can't beat the man, he always gets his 87% cut!



------------------------------
Sources:
The Hipster Bible aka Wikipedia

Chapter 34: Cover Art aka Page of Scribbled Shit n' Piss

Gather around young children, let Uncle Spike tell you about cover art. Cover Art can make or break you, and since your wayward junkie uncle has the attention span of a Tenderloin Hooker looking for a good time...here is the long and short of it...see kids that's a cliche but we'll save that for our "I'm a victimized gold card yuppie urban poet and I play no instruments" workshop.

Ok, hipster dipshit, I'm going to take two bands with the same name and point out the do's and don'ts.

Here is an example of shitty boner curdling artwork.



Lets see, a band who hails by Hammerhead because what is more extreme than a stupid re-tard looking shark that has a habit of being bludgeoned to death by happy dolphins. Ok, I see a dune buggy...because we can't exclude the douchebag motorcross market...I see a football helmet...because if there's one sport a band from England loves it is American Football. Fucking stupid but smart since surburban droids from Detroit are the only ones buying this, Faygo, and the Insane Clown Posse box set. Lastly, looking at this manly artwork, I've inferred that the title of the album should read, "Will To Survive...Violent Crenshaw Buttstabbing". Listen metaldicks, if you're going to be a band obsessed with death and war and drop tuning your instruments...I'm going to show you how its done.

If you're going to be metal then you better do it right asshole. Here is an example....



1. Name your band "Fucking" and your first album better be titled "Metal". Consider yourself a poser.

Moving on.....


Here is an example of good or indifferent artwork. Same name, different band. American, Fuck yeah!



Kids, notice the brain puzzling artwork on this EP. The redheaded stepchild with the old timey vacuum bulbs and B movie font makes you think...its a surf band...its a, its a garage band...its Perry Cuomo's Bastard Child...hmm, what the fuck is this band. Answer, hand over $55.99 to some anglophile on ebay and you'll find out its the best thing you've never heard. The artwork kinda sucks but who cares, at least it doesn't remind you of an ill-fated shower party.


Want some musics?
Lucid Media has a few albums up by this band. Noise Rock!
Hammerhead - Into the Vortex Lp
Hammerhead - Duh, The Big City Lp

Chapter 11: Take it on the Fuckin' Road, On Your Own Dime

Tina & the Piss Artists Tour Van for Sale.
$600 & a needle of skag or obo + my 50% Cut (Finder's Fee)...I'm jones'n.



CarFax Report:
1969 Shit Van w/ Convert LX Shell - Vin: 27OD77RCK69MNNN

• Does Not Qualify for CARFAX Buyback Guarantee
  
• Twenty Seven-owner vehicle
• Collision Repair Facility record indicating multiple car/engine fires
• Salvage and rebuilt, no titles issued, illegal in Florida
• No Muffler
• Certified Mobile Flop House
• Deluxe Model, comes with piss washing hobo
• Warranty voided
• Sophomore Slump Package Available
• FEMA Flood advisory
• Manufacturer recall
• One Large Midnight Accident in Dörarp, Sweden.
• Propensity to kill the most talented musician in your band: i.e. your bassist
• Warning: Modified Dodge Ram Van w/ Camper
  

Thinking of taking your shitty no-talent "Indie/Folk/Americana" clone band out on tour? Well, listen up wastoids, I got a cherry money pit up for grabs. I can't tell you how many tours, blowjobs, botched felchjobs, and colostomy bags this money sucker has seen. Oh wait, almost forgot the biggest selling point. Back in the early 80's, when I was the thrash/speed slop-styled guitarist for Nutwrench..ever heard of them...didn't think so poser, I hid this major payload, a sweet deal I worked out with a Columbian national and a three armed nitro fueled porno store janitor named Lenny in Wabash, in the back camper. Anyway, here's the rub, I was kicked out of the band at a gas station in Tacoma. So, I already ransacked the van yesterday and shit, I couldn't find it. If you can its yours.

Ooooooohooooooohoooo, you want to tour Europe, the Scandinavian terrain? Well, shit I almost forgot to tell you, this oil burner has been there done that! Well, Ol Jimmy Z himself leased this beaut - for some reds and a little "slap n' tickle" from then owner Tina - for a European tour for this mouth breathing band...hmmm, escapes me now. But they had spunk....and there's probably still some stuck to the interior. Shit, by now they probably dropped the whole "power metal" gig and are making double bass pedal tinged MOR shit. Caveat - make sure your bass player makes separate travel arrangements....some bands have found this out the hard way...cough Metallica cough.

Look shithead, you have to put the horse before the cart. Sure, we'd all like to get our hands on a "Magical Defibrillator" and revive our own personal comatose Led Zeppelin bassist so that we can then proceed to overcharge our numb robotic sleep-drooling stupid fan bases exorbitant ticket prices at venues known for their shitty house sound. Hey, when that happens, you come back to old Spike and I'll point you in the direction a no talent gold diggin' bird of a punk rocker you can steal away from a middle class alcoholic east bay teenie boppin' axe legend. You and me both buddy...anyway, save yourself some heartache! Before we tour the Eastern Block, a place known for murderous border guards and some rippin' biscuit, lets just concentrate on gettin' your goldbrickin' ass to Bakersfield so you can play and I can get my head "cleaned" and my 79% cut.


If interested, meet me here at Tio Snoopy Jr's Taco Hut:



You give me the money and I'll take you over to the Van and hotwire it for you...I seemed to have misplaced the keys. Wear black!

If you show up and don't have the cash or the score...you end up here:

Coke Nap Records Release - Give us your money!

"Quit your yammerin' you fucks, Spikes about to open his trench coat of goods and shower some sweet rain over your submissive cherry bottom! Last night, while I was dangling my good leg over the Santa Monica Pier after another fight with South Bay Mud, I said to myself, "Spike, LA needs an enema...a rock and roll filled colonic"! So Spike knew exactly where to find some talent on the quick, good ole 6th and Spring. Apparently, I showed up 5 minutes after 8 and the pigs had already shut my talent show down. So I did the next best thing, I knocked on some tents at 1st and Main and rustled out 3 fuckers assbumping gold flake and a part-time PowerDom out of the LAXXpress..."

Coke Nap Records Presents

Three Douches / Captain Jizzbeard Split EP




Side A - Three Douches
1. "Spike Anderson's Needle Supply"
2. "Docks After Dark"
3. "Smells like Pepperdine Dropouts"



Side B - Captain Jizzbeard
1. "Snuff Films & Wine Coolers"
2. "Sex President"


....But Spike, "where can I buy the slab, where can I score something that looks white..." Same place as always, out of some guys van in the Smell parking lot (usually guarded by a vagrant) or a flop house near you. Now fuck off Ne'er do Wells

Get Exotic & Bang The Cashier at Whole Foods

A story old as time. A few douchebags invade a newly gentrified neighborhood and use daddy's mastercard to be one with the earth, be one with humanity, bang some chicks, scrape off the herpes, and "slum" it with 100% post recycled stock boys from Whole Foods. "Try the petrified rainforest baby-jerky...its fair-trade!". Fuck you spunkbag, I'll stick to my cough syrup, caffeine pills, and gutter water.

Although, you have to admit a red head making an instructional video about how to brag about, make, and drink a native Argentinian drink is rather funny... or in hipsterfuck-speak "ironic". Although, not as ironic as you might think...the Argentinian government, in addition to giving "free" midnight rides into the sunset to its own citizens, have a long standing tradition of granting amnesty to Nazi's.

And now you've found something you can lord over your stupid trend-chasing, stimulant abusing, pasty vampire fuckbuddies. The Spikester was especially taken by this ginger's disillusionment of his small circle-jerk of friends' lack of knowledge about this worldly epicurean delight. Hey jizzcrust, I bet the short order cook making your chic vegan burrito at Vegan Express drinks it. Shit, even the guy who chases me off the YMCA lawn with a leaf blower drinks it....I mean for fucks sake, theres some pasty hipsterfuck band from Boston named after Yerba Mate. And they suck.....