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.

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!



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Sources:
The Hipster Bible aka Wikipedia

The Cokie Clown of My Dreams

Spike v Lawndale

Spike Versus Lawndale: The Movie...coming to a flop house near you.....soon you fuck!