If I Ever Write a One-Woman-Show...
...The title will be [My name]: The Girl in the Boys' Powder-room.
Or perhaps it should be 'Bois'"
Thoughts, politics, soapbox rampages, amusing quotes, and excellent names for rock bands.
...The title will be [My name]: The Girl in the Boys' Powder-room.
Just in case you were wondering (Hey, Google-bot) how to do the time signature 3/8+3/4 in Finale and not have it beam all screwy, here's what you do.
My neighborhood has a very high concentration of 99cent stores. There's a huge one, actually, about half a block from my house, but that involves crossing a fairly major road without a stoplight, so I generally just visit the one at the foot of the subway station. (Out here, our subways are above ground.)
You absolutely have to go, right now, check out the Amazon.com reviews of K-Fed's new "album." I haven't laughed that hard in a LONG time. Here's my favorite:
I'll be nice.Well played, sir. Well played.
Relative to a pool of vomit, this album is pretty solid. I'd rather have this album thrown at me at high speeds than a chainsaw. If I was stranded on a desert island, I'd rather have this album than a tumor. If I had to lick something, I'd rather it be this album than, say, a ferret's balls. At my next birthday party, I'd much rather you sing than a man that could make Earth explode with his voice. If I needed a drinking buddy, I'd rather it be you than someone with an uncontrollable bladder that also happens to be a recovering alcoholic whose wife is only giving him one last chance before she kicks him out of the house and takes his kids, that being the final straw before he flips out and murder's my grandfather.
The sheer cacophony that this album exhudes is a declaration of war against all which is good and pure in this world. Skies will rain blood, virgins will be spontaneously defiled, and there will be much weeping and gnashing of teeth.
The drum machines in this necronomicon of pain are wrought from the realm of Baalzebub himself, their metallic drone bores holes within the eardrums - sweet mercy comes from this.
The unholy union between K-Fed and music television will ensure that this demon seed is poured forth upon the masses, burning them with unescapable torment.
It must be stopped.
Every once in a while the cosmos align themselves in such perfect orgasmic bliss that their very light is truncated by the heavens into a single work of art ("Art" I say, as if such a mortal word could suffice to describe the ambrosia of the god's!). Every once in a while an artist is able to slit open his chest, rip out his still beating heart, and squirt us with such blindingly powerful sensations that we can only hope our tear ducts have not fully atrophied from the constant barrage of worthless garbage that passes for culture so that we may weep at true beauty when it is trust in front of our eyes!!!And the breathtaking lyricism...
Ladies and gentlemen, that time is now. That work is "Playing with Fire." That man....... is K-Fed!!!
Socrates' once said that the poets were the only true interpreters of God and if he was as wise as they say he is, K-Fed is a poet for the ages. It is impossible to listen to the raw earthy power of "America's Most Hated" or the Dionysian visions of "Dance with a Pimp" and not be touched by the blunt finger of God. And, why yes K-Fed, I would like a little bit of hip-hop with my rock n roll, thank you.
The power of a true artist is in creating something utterly new, but out of the classic and great in a way that makes us think "Why didn't I think of that?" How simple, how obvious, how genius. Hip hop mixed with Rock n Roll? How could no one have thought of this before? That revelation alone rockets K-Fed to the upper echelons of hip-hop.
Nas? Eminem? Rakim? Chuck D? Philistines have called these emcees poets and artists before, but K-Fed has shown they might as well have been writing puns with fecal matter on a broken down barn that no one ever visits anyway since the coal ran out of the mine and there are no jobs anymore. With only one album out, K-Fed has instantly rendered them all irrelevant.
When listening to this album you will experience the same spiritual insight that Rainer Maria Rilke felt whilst staring at the torso of Apollo. Every beat, every sample, every verse rings with this profound insight: "You must change your life."
This former back-up dancer
Now known as Mr. Spears
Has brought us the worst album
To be released in years
Though he thinks he's Eminem
He's more Vanilla Ice
And after you've heard this one once
You wouldn't hear it twice
Just listen to the lyrics
And see if you agree
These are the worst songs ever "sung"
In all of history
The first single is "Lose Control"
A track that should be tossed
I would suggest this album
Be avoided at all cost
Maybe next year on April 1
(You'll get two for a buck)
Buy `em for an All Fool's joke
and watch your pals upchuck
--Amanda Richards
I think this is a friendly gesture much in the same way that fishermen offering worms to trout is.
I invented this yesterday out of (sorta) necessity. I had an old, stale, slightly moldy gingerbread lying around, but I felt bad that I had neglected it, and I like gingerbread and didn't want to throw it out entirely, so I revived it and it was delicious.
Here's what you need: