1. The Nature of the Beast
2. BLOODSPORT
3. St. Patrick's Day: The True Meaning
4. In League with Satan
5. Adios Joey!
6. Fishin for Crappie
7. My Kick Ass Bike
8. Bye, Bye, Whiskey High
9. What Kinda Bug’re Yew, Dumb Bug?
10. Touring, Touring, Is Never Boring?
10.5 the BUZZSAWYER / Yins Say Y'all tour diary
11.World War III
12. FEAR
13. Me and Eddie Van Halen: A True Story
14. The Origin of Halloween
15. Hayseed Dixie
16. the greyhound zone
17. Bourbon, Fire and the Eternal Ahhhh
18. You Nailed Him Right in His Mind!!!
19. Pittsburgh Football
20. sloov in san francisco
21. sloov in san francisco, Part 2- Energy Poetry and Chinatown
22. Rock ‘n’ Wrestling
23. That’s Entertainment!
24. Planning a birthday party
25. SHOW REVIEW
26. SHOW REVIEW
27. The Road to Independence
28. Wooo!!!  What's up mo'fo???
29. The Buzzsawyer 2002 Summer Tour
30. -Tour 1
31. Oklahoma City, OK
32. Texas
33. Los Angeles
34. Las Vegas
35. Denver, CO
36. the iceman cometh
37. Anti-War Rally
38. 10 Alternatives to Offing Yourself
39. Uncle Petey
40. War Profiteering
41. Hasil Adkins show

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His Philosophy


show reviews
1. Immortal Lee County Killers, All Night, The Loners
Supersuckers Country Western Extravaganza, with Jessie Dayton

I hate assholes

So yesterday I’m all hungover from Saturday night. We had the best show we had in a long time at King’s in Raleigh. Tons of people including Widow were there. Then we went over to somebody's house and drank wine and did drugs all night.

So I go home and the landlord has these guys wiring my apartment for high speed internet access which probably won’t be turned on before I move out in the summer. We’re looking for a cheaper place…again. So I can’t sleep after I get home because these guys are tearing down the walls in my apartment and I can barely get around my house with all the ladders and toolboxes all over tarnation so I decide to grab some change and go to the coffee shop on the corner.

I don’t usually hang out at places where I have to pay for overpriced brown water when I can make some at home for 1/100th of the cost, but I didn’t have anything else to do and a bar was out of the question in my state – both financially and physically. So I get a book and go.

This place is on the corner and it has a porch so on a good day you can sit out there and do some people-watching. I guess that's where the dollar goes - the people-watching fee. I sometimes like to watch people, especially if they are the kind of people equipped with breasts and vaginas. So I’m sitting there reading a bit and looking at breasted and vaginated people, and I try to be discreet but when I’m tired and hungover I just don’t care too much about discretion. A couple of them were coming up the stairs and going back down and I could get a good look in there. Bouncey.

Then a guy in a minivan almost got in a fight with a guy in a sedan at the stoplight so that was almost cool but not really, so I went back to reading.

Then my head is down and I’m minding my own business when I hear someone yell, I look up, and there’s this dude in a powder blue station wagon yelling at me: “Don’t be depressed because you don’t have a dick you dicklicker” he said. My reaction was to stare at him and try to figure out where I met this kid before. I have a lot of friends who always yell shit at me from their cars when I’m out walking around. So he’s yelling at me and instead of looking mad or trying to avoid eye contact I’m staring at this dude like a clueless student staring at a professor trying to figure out what in hell he’s talking about.

But I don’t know the dude. He’s just some cuntface. Yelling from his car, a baby blue station wagon. It wasn’t even a cool wagon like the family truckster. It was a little dinky dorkmobile. So when I finally figured out he was just a random dickhead I stood up and gave him the finger until his car was out of sight. I guess he figured since I was at a coffee shop and wearing black that I was some depressed goth dude that hangs out at coffee shops or some shit. But I was wearing a Zeke shirt and my sleeveless jean jacket. With the denim I might have looked like a fag – but a rockin’ fag!!

And of course I figured out a bunch of shit I could have said to him immediately after he was gone. If I wasn’t so damn trusting of people, thinking they’re my friends. Next time I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later.

Here’s what I could have come back with:

“Cute car. Did you have it painted for Easter?”
“Gramma called and said she wants her car back.”
“Nice car, fag.”
“I think I left my dick in your mom’s mouth.”
The classic “Your mom.”
The classic with an English or ’Burgh accent “Your mum.”
Or the pretend-you-didn’t-hear-him “What? You want to lick my dick? Sorry, I’m not a fag.”
or “Sorry, I don’t know where the gay bar is.”
“I heard gay homos liked powder blue.”
“Your car’s a fag color”
“Shut up, stupid dumb head.”

Anything! Now all I can do is pray to God I see that stupid car in a dark alley at night and I happen to be carrying a pound of sugar, a brick, a blade, a potato, and that I have to shit, piss, and vomit at that exact moment.

I’m gonna go fight someone now. ERRRRRR!!!

5/19/03

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