Hey folks!

Just a quick message for you all today. Maybe. We'll see how long I drag it out.

So I was wandering the net: when I sit down at my computer, I have a favourites bar in Firefox, and what I do is cycle through those first, before I take to the jungles of the internet.

I made it to my email section and flipped open my Gmail account in time to see I had a new comment on my blog. Awesome! I love comments! Lets get down to it:

This is the most biased load of shit I've ever seen.

This was in response to my post about those stupid indie hipster fucks that nobody likes.

First off, Mr. Anonymous, I compliment you on your grammar and punctuation. Very nice, very rare.

Secondly, congratulations on busting me on my biased reporting. What did you expect when you read an opinion? No bias? I'm not a newscaster or a journalist, I'm an average Joe. Okay, that's a lie, I'm so much more Godlike than your average man-on-the-street.

Thirdly, load of shit? That blog was gold spun by the fingers of angels. Those hot Victoria's Secret ones. Yes.
But then I suppose you'd know all about shit, having done more German porn in your life than I've slept with those afore mentioned angels. I'm batting a thousand on that, by the way.

Fourthly, and this is besides all the silliness above, if you don't like it, don't read it. I don't care. I have thousands of readers. My hit counter is spinning like the rims on Fitty Cent's Escalade. Losing your negative input costs me nothing; which brings me to my other point? Why even post your inane complaints? Do you think I care? I hope not, because it's not good to lie to yourself. I lose no sleep when you post this tripe. I don't stay up all night tossing and turning, trying to decipher what you mean, I don't read your one-line, non-argument post and suddenly decide to change my life or my views of crappy music. Maybe if you provided a competent argument. Good luck with that.

Anyway. thanks for giving me something to write, nonetheless. Felt good to flex that muscle. Now shoo, your novelty has passed. Write me back sometime, I'll never run out of mud to fling.

This one goes out to all the ladies...

I would like to take a moment to address all of my female readers out there, so please put down your Tiger Beat magazine, hair curlers, and other womanly items and lend me your eyes.

Stop.

Just. Stop.

Ess Tee, Oh Pee.

Most, if not all, women go through a phase in their lives where they are obsessed with that "Bad-boy" type. We all know these guys. The Vin Diesel type from "The Fast And The Furious", those guys who come with the promise of some danger.

Unfortunately, most women don't realise that these "dudes" also often times come with physical and emotional abusive tendencies, emotional detachment, general uncaring attitudes, some form of sociopathy, anger issues and a wealth of other emotional instabilities and problems.

This is where the conundrum begins: You women keep going back to these idiots. These people who leave you battered and broken (literally or figuratively), yet more in love with them then ever, and you get up, brush yourself off and hitch right back onto his wagon. These horrible people have to crawl through an avalanche of vagina just to get out of the door, because you dumb broads will not stop having sex with them, no matter what. How idiotic is that? How stupid are you people? Really? He tosses you on the curb and then you wake up in his bed the next morning? Seriously?

These are terrible, horrible people. They don't deserve the time it would take to beat them bloody, much less the avalanche of vagina you stupid chicks pile on them every day of their lives.

And then there's the other half of this conundrum: Most of these women know a nice guy. This is the guy they hang out with and say, "Oh, he's the most dependable guy!" or "He's so sweet and kind!" or "He's so great to me!" or "He's such a great friend!" or "He takes such good care of me!" or "He's always there for me when I need a friend!" or "He's so amazing!" or "He's like my rock!", I could go on forever; but this guy will never see the day that you have sex with him; this is the guy who you should be all over! He's great, look at him! Sure, maybe he doesn't ride a Harley or have tattoos and piercings all over him, maybe he doesn't live on the edge, but at least he doesn't treat you like shit. At least he isn't just interested in nailing you a couple times, then tossing you off like so much trash, at least he values you, at least he's there for you when you need him (rather than when he needs a booty call), at least he's a good guy.
But God forbid you repay that kindness with a little bodily contact, no, you'd rather heap vagina on the guy who abuses you (subtly or not) and leaves you out to dry. What are you repaying him for? Do you think he'll love you if you come crawling back every time and open your legs? Are you high?!

I speak on a one-issue thing here, but it works with relationships, too. I can't say how many relationships I've seen some dumb broad sabotage with a perfectly nice guy, just so she can go back and get tossed around by some emotionally detached douchbag who has a tattoo, some stubble and a leather jacket, who I would describe as a "rambling man" who's just too cool for school.

I speak from some past experience here, though I've changed a lot and can say I only see this happen to other people now. It's just sad how it works, and it implants a lot of bad ideals into people.

Just stop burying assholes in vagina, and throw the nice guy a bone now and then, for me, ladies? Please. These guys deserve it for sticking by you through thick and thin.

The Music You Like Sucks

Hello, future servants and minions; I come to you today on behalf of myself, as usual, to say that your music sucks, and nobody cares about it.

I'm going to be gentle and friendly for a moment, but only just a moment, don't be worried; I love music of all kinds, right now my new phone is jam packed with what has to be the most eclectic mixture of music in the world. Not only that, but I'm always open to trying new things, I went to a concert last night that I was pretty sure I'd not like too much (John McEuen, one of the founding members of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, which is a band I've known for a while before, but never really paid any attention to. Most of you kids won't know or like him), but by the end of two one-hour sets, a bunch of genuinely funny jokes and stories, I was tapping my foot and singing along. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it was one of the better shows I've been to.

But! And this is where it gets ugly; it is my experience that most of you people listen to absolute tripe. Be it the blondest pop hits, the whiniest emo "rock", or the "hardest" gangsta rap, even you "indie" people: your music sucks whale dick.

And even that's fine with me, if you want to listen to these Top 40 idiots pump out manufactured shit, so be it, but you don't stop there, oh no, you have to get the hoodies and the t-shirts and the hats and whatever else. You have to let the world know you listen to horrible music.

And it doesn't even stop there! Oh no! You have to recommend your brand of shit to everyone else! As if everyone in the world wasn't already having the latest My Chemical Romance song shoved so far down our throats that it's actually being shoved up our asses.

Then there's the "hey, you've gotta hear this new song!" part of the whole deal. This is already a bad sign for me - even though I'm usually up for a new experience - for a few reasons, one being you're overexcited and hyperventilating, I love music, but not that much; please calm yourself. Another is you saying that I just have to hear it; no, I don't. The last reason is; do I seem like the kind of person that likes your music? No.
Next is the procedure, which I've come to call "The Four 'F's":
Step One: (mentioned above) Freak out about how revolutionary this new song is (revolutionary like the rest of the songs on the Top 40).
Step Two: Fumble around your iPod/Laptop/Phone trying to find said song, while assuring me that it's awesome. At this point I'm beginning to get bored, and your freaking out is only making it take longer to find the song.
Step Three: Find the song and begin to play it. This is where one or a few of many things can happen: It'll start out good, then be ruined by poor vocals, it'll start out poorly and get worse, whatever it's playing on will die, the sound quality will be poor, you will start singing along to it. At this point, I'll usually be at least trying to pretend that I'm even half interested in the song anymore.
Step Four: Fail to impress me. The song sucked the moment you brought it up, and hearing it has failed to change my mind. Tits or gtfo please.

Basically, unless you are me, or I really like you, I don't care about your music. Once in awhile you'll give me a good song, but for the most part, don't even bother.

It's not necessarily a bad thing, either. Just because you think POD is the best thing since music was invented, that's great. I just hate them is all. Doesn't mean we can't get along, unless you're one of those anal assholes (alliteration ftw!) who bases their friends on conformity and only what you like, instead of diversity (Fun Fact: The Spaish Hapsbergs became deformed and died out because of constant inbreeding and lack of diversity!), in which case, please start a fire and die in it. We need fewer exclusionary groups filled with retards in this world.

So please, feel free to suggest your music to me. Maybe I'll find something good, maybe it will all suck. Usually it all sucks. But sometimes you get lucky.

Thus Begins a new Segment: Tyr's Mailbag!

Ladies and gentlemen, I have just recently received my very first hate mail.

This is a very monumental day for me, and as you can imagine, I plan on picking this little gem apart like a flock of vultures with a wildebeest carcass.

Only decidedly more rotten and rank.

And so, without further ado: The original comment in its pure, unmolested form:

You my friend are the douchebag! fuck you judging people on how they dress! I wear a hat all the time because I am going bald and I cannot style my hair! I mean wanna talk about stereotypes look at sabu atack she looks like some pale fire crotch goth whore but I am not judging her? so fuck you and your gay ass article I would love to see your stupid hipster ass so I could talk shit about you and your art fag glasses and whatever other shit you are into better yet I would love to see you in the street so I could smash your head with a brick you fucking homo and if i ever meet you I will fuck you up no shit ps newsboy hats are gay just like you so fuck you little scenester and I hope you choke on a dick

My first thought upon reading this was giddiness, and by the time I finished, I was laughing like a hyena at the dentist's office.

First off, if you're bald and wear a hat, go ahead. Personally, if I was going bald, I'd shave the rest off and be proud of it, but I can understand why people aren't. That's fine. Just don't wear one of those stupid flat-brimmed abominations.

Secondly, poor Tacks! Here she is, an innocent bystander, and she gets pegged wrong not once, but twice! I've never seen her in any Goth-type clothing, nor is her hair even red; she's just your average pot-loving brunette.
And lets face it, the only reason our anonymous friend here said anything about her was because he saw her picture and wanked off to it, crying and wishing he was prettier so he could get even an ugly girl. No offense to Tacks, if I was even a remotely-attractive female, I'd never put my face on the internet. There are some horrible people out there. And perhaps you were trying to be ironic, but by saying what you did, you judged her. Oops.

I don't wear glasses, I don't need them.

I hate most people who consider themselves "artists".

I don't know what a "scenester" is, though I would imagine it's someone who tries to fit in with whatever is popular? If so, that's not me at all.

That's the main point's debunked.

Personally, I have a really hard time believing that this mindless, blathering neanderthal could ever string enough coherent words together to make a comment on anything, let alone figure out how a computer works to the point that he could even find my own incessant rantings (I'll admit that if the internet was cable, I'd be on deep, deep cable). I'm sure most of his "talking shit" about me would be highly reminiscent of Bobcat Goldthwait having an epileptic seizure in a cactus farm.

In any case, it's amused me, so it was worth at least that. But for now, I have another big post to write so I'm going to leave the poor guy alone.

Oh, and if it was someone I know... well-played!

Yes, it's been awhile.

I've been very busy over the past few months or so with business that is far more important to me than updating my blog, which most of you should feel lucky having access to in the first place.

In any case, I have a few good blogs planned out for the next few weeks, so stay tuned, or risk being lame.

Attn. Voters: Shut the hell up.

Hello all voting age people! I would like to take a short moment to extend the following message to you!

Shut the fuck up, put your head down and vote.

"But Sam! That's what I'm doing already!" you cry like a stuck pig!

No! No it isn't. You are voting, yes, but at the same time, you are not shutting the hell up about how your candidate is so much greater than the other one, or how the other one lied about being in a war or having experience or Joe the Fucking Plumber, who I am sick and tired of as I was sick and tired of swiftboat veterans last time.

My quarrel is not with the candidates, they seem like good people, or whatever amounts to good in the world of politics; my quarrel is with the voters.
I want all of you to shut up about your choice and just bloody vote. No yard signs, no bumper stickers, no forum posts, no anything; you won't change anybody on the other side's mind, because you have no skill at arguing, you'll basically only end up reinforcing their opinions. Nobody cares what you think.

So, for the sake of your public image and everyone else in general; take your Left or Right Wing-cocksucking and ram it up your ass, bow your head in shame, then walk into your booth on November forth and do your duty; that's where it counts anyway.
Leave the campaigning to the campaigns and vote for the Right or Left Wing when the day comes, or vote early; until such time, shut the fuck up and leave us all alone, I'm so tired of hearing the voters blowing McCain and Obama everywhere I turn.

Call me unpatriotic and unmotivated all you want, but I'll just tell you to jog off you pathetic lot of activist-pricks. Actipricks. I voted already, so you can take your Obama/McCain votemongering elsewhere, preferably up your arse; and even if I hadn't yet voted, you can still blow it out said arse, because I don't want to hear you far Left/far Right Wing crackpot wankoffs wanking on about how your candidate is akin to our saviour Jesus returning to earth like, to quote a fellow ranter, a greasy sex-offender returning to your room at night. You're not changing my mind, and you're not changing anybody elses; and if they say they are, then most likely they're sick of your babbling on like a dying howler monkey, have shut their brains down and are agreeing with you, waiting in vain for you to stop wanking yourself and your candidate so they can escape back into the blissfulness of rearranging their sock drawer.

On the same note, stop bashing the other candidate. Just stop. I don't care if McCain or Obama molested ten billion hermaphrodite children in Cambodia on a drunken binge on spring break in '04 (wait, that was me...), can he lead a country? Good, get him in.
On a similar note, and to reiterate something I've said before: YOU ARE CHANGING NO ONE'S MIND!
Chances are, you can go on and on about how bad they are and how their ideas are piddly, limp excuses for rational thought; and the other side will invariably dismiss them as hokey bullshit and not pay any attention to them, like a Tyrannosaurus ignores a goat because it doesn't want to be fed, it wants to hunt.

All in all, I'm not a fan of people... okay, let me rephrase... I think people who try to "educate by force" innocent bystanders can fuck right off. These are the wankers who come flying at you like the Nazi Blitzkrieg with a Prius or Hummer plastered with campaign stickers and other inane political propaganda, trying to reel off a list of the good parts of their candidates policies and the bad parts of the other candidates policies around a mouthful of their candidates dangly bits.
These people are dicks. You can feel it in the way they talk, move, breathe, eat, anything.

If you've ever walked up to a stranger, or, in fact, anyone you know, and out of the blue you start to "educate" them on how great your candidate is, then congratulations, you are a massive wanker who should be thrown out of an airlock.

In closing; everybody shut up and vote. Do not talk about your candidate. Ever. Do not show your support of them overtly. Do not try to "educate" people of their supposed "greatness". Just put your head down until the forth, and then vote. Nobody cares what you think.

Thank you, and however you vote, vote righteous.

ATTN: Michael Cera, get a new agent.

Today, I have felt like writing, which means it's you're lucky day, because I have about two backed-up posts waiting to be finished, and one entirely new one I thought up just last night. So just sit back, set your eyes to read, and enjoy. Else I will come to your home and force you to in a bout of Clockwork Orange-esque torture.

So. Without further ado, I present my first old/new blog.

We all know, and most of us loved Michael Cera from his time on Arrested Development, a much uncredited Fox show that they ruthlessly slaughtered due to poor advertising to make room for such gems as... I don't know, one of the fifty-thousand other shows that have had a first season if they're lucky.

Mr. Cera played the awkward, dopey son on that show; and he was fantastic at it. Sound familiar? That's would be because that's what he's played in every bloody movie since. You name it. Superbad, Juno, that other one. He's being typecast like André the Giant or Sean Bean, only not in a good way (an arguable fact with André), but in an "I only have the capacity to play chubby, stupid kids in coming-of-age-films" way. Branch out for God's sake, boy.

This leads me into my rant about the horrible indie movie genera, which I mentioned briefly in my post about indie music. All of these movies have been bad. Juno was retarded, full of uninformed, downright stupid decisions that only absolutely retarded people could ever make (or people under extreme emotional duress, but that wasn't at all conveyed to me, which is the director's failing); Superbad is one of those movies that I sit down about once a week and try my damnedest to decipher in my head, what was it about? Who were these people? Were they gay? What was the message? Why do I care? The only one I can answer is the last one, I care because it's like when you have a loose tooth, you can't stop fucking with it. Poking it with your tongue, wiggling it, even if it hurts you to do so.

His newest venture into the scene is "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist", and I know nothing about it, I've never seen it, but allow me to take a crack at the plot: Dorky, lame, awkward boy meets girl he thinks he'll never get, pines over her until a chance meeting - probably involving shitty indie music - prompts them to fall into awkward, teenage love.

Okay, I just read the plot, and it was even more retarded than what I thought. Kudos to whatever crappy writer wrote that piece of filth, I hope that he's proud of himself for unleashing this garbage on unwitting, simple humanity.

All I'm saying is that Mr. Cera needs to save the awkward-kid stuff for Arrested Development and branch out in the meantime. I'm sure he could be a passable actor if he tried really hard.