July 31, 2012


It had been a long ass time since I had been to a bachelor party. 

But my good friend Angus Jr was getting married. It was a union that I had been a trifle responsible in the genesis of- let’s just say the original “meet and greet” involved copious amounts of alcohol and the type of bar that hung bra’s from the ceiling and bartendettes pouring shots of cheap crap down patron’s throats.

My kind of place.
Three years later, they’re gonna march down the aisle. Poor bastards. But good on them, with any luck the world will end before they come to that “Naked Lunch” moment. My bet is on them to survive and thrive in matrimonial bliss. They're both really nice people.

Like I said… poor bastards.

So, despite the original plans for a batch-party blow-out, made in an economy long since passed, of a weekend in Amsterdam or Vegas, the decision made by the best man (a responsible sort- in other words, not your humble narrator), decided on a pub crawl in the big city. Nice and somewhat pedestrian.

The “group” was essentially split up into two factions… the groom’s college era friends, and us “later” scumbag drunk reprobates. As your humble narrator is nothing if not the devil on the shoulder of responsibility, we quickly decided that we must “convince” the “nicer fellers” that certain venues must be visited before the end of the evening. But, more importantly, I could NOT be the prime mover as I had led the prospective groom (and several other attendee's) into several of Satan's lairs on other occasions.

Luckily, prodigious intake of “ass juice”, Jamesons  and bacon martini’s quickly made any potential conflict moot; and cabs were hailed and more lecherous impulses were addressed, both efficiently and expensively. One of my former bandmates plying me with jagermeister was a generous, if deadly, exhibition of “forgive and forget past transgressions” and much appreciated and later regretted as I could barely find the subway.

Getting home after the sun had already rose, devoid of money, afraid to check the credit card slips in my wallet and staggering, I  fell onto my couch for some tortured and drunken “sleep”.

I knew that we had done right by the boy. His text to me: “you gave me the bachelor party I always wanted”.

I was still hungover 2 days later.

July 27, 2012

The A-Limp-Dicks

The jingo-istic international circle jerk begins today. I don't care. We're still fighting wars and killing countrymen of the very same athletes we are competing against.

Stop the fucking wars- both military and economic. The corporations sponsoring the Olympics are as guilty as the military and governments are: Remember Bhopal????

Here's a streaming feed of what used to be THE ONLY BAND THAT MATTERED. Cleveland 1979.

July 25, 2012

George Jefferson has left the building

...and moved up to that dee-lux apartment in the sky.

Yes, Sherman Hemsley, who apparently was a huge Prog-Rock fan and acid head, departing this mortal coil, I humbley offer my old band's tribute to The Jeffersons, as we covered their theme song.

NSFW... or for that matter, not safe for cute puppies or kittens either!

July 19, 2012

Sell Out?

Does Punk Rock matter anymore? Does the message mean anything?

The Clash's "London Calling" is the theme song of the 2012 Olympics (taking place in, duh, London). As much as I would love to see the River Thames overrun it's banks and drown the entire event (in tribute to the lyrics), I am a bit disgusted by the commercialization of The Clash. It's not the first time a Clash tune has been utilized as a "jingle" ("Should I Stay Or Should I go" was used for a jeans commercial several years ago). However, "London Calling" is such an overtly apocalyptic song, it's amazing that it's being co-opted.

On the other hand, if the estate of Joe Strummer and Jones, Simonon, Headon can make some $$$ for their pensions, isn't it all the better? I remember years ago hearing The Buzzcocks "Everybody's Happy Nowadays" being used for a car advert, and feeling good that the band was profit. And lordy knows The Ramones "Blitzkrieg Bop" has become a staple at ballgames and in ads.

But "London Calling"???? Jeez...

"And I believe in this and it's been tested by research/ He who fucks nuns will later join the church"
(The Clash- "Death Or Glory")

"They think it's funny/Turning rebellion into money"
(The Clash - "White Man In Hammersmith Palais")

July 16, 2012

America- Fuck Yeah!

Well, I think the above is pretty apropos. Provincialism at his finest. But then again, we have the best rock n roll in the world. So that counts for something, don't it?

Here's some examples of why it's America FUCK YEAH time here at Bleedin' Out:

(Explore your sensitive teen punk side)

(Bratty Punks make good) 

(This could ONLY have been created in the good old USA!)

ps- Viet Nam was a tie!!!!!!!!!

July 11, 2012

Mr. Softie vs The Giant Spider

Middle of the day, I took a break from work (I work out of my home), and I walked to the front steps of my purple columned house in the middle of suburbia, with the Ramones flag flapping in the breeze and just admired the flora and fauna around me. The crabgrass is coming up nicely on the front lawn, the hydrangeas are purple and red and white, there were squirrels playing happy rodent games, and birds were chirping and cavorting. Cardinals, bluejays, robins, sparrows, doves, even a woodpecker.

I thought of my above ground pool, where I baste in the sun drunkenly for hours on end.
I thought to myself... this suburban shit is pretty cool sometimes.

Tonight, I heard the Mr. Softie truck coming down the street and I went out to grab a couple of ice cream cones for me and Nazz Jr.

I embarked from the door... and walked into a massive spider and it's web, that had used my purple columns as a skeleton to devise a snare that Shelob would've envied. Mr. (or Miss) spider actually bounced off my head, as I cursed and psychotically ripped the webs out of my face.

We're selling the house tomorrow. Back to the city. Fuck this mother nature shit.

July 9, 2012

Redd Kross

I saw Redd Kross the other nite in Brooklyn (aka Satan's Asshole). The brothers McDonald (Jeff and Steve) were awesome, as was non brother Roy McDonald on drums and Jason Shapiro (filling in for the Doctorate chasing Robert Hecker) on guitar.
They played a few songs from their upcoming Researching The Blues lp as well as a huge cross section of everything from their bratty El Lay punk roots (virtually the entire Born Innocent album) through their more mature power pop 80's and 90's oeuvre.
A great show and only a couple of times did I want to punch some scumbag Brooklyn Hipster in the face.


July 2, 2012

Police Story

Out here on Long Island, the Police force is slightly to the right of the Nazi's. In other words, they are a bunch of confrontational scumbags who like nothing more than to harass citizens and drum up money thru fines to replenish the sagging teats of the Nassau budget.

Fuck them all.