Thursday, December 31, 2020

2020 Correspondence Analysis

So… 2020, eh?  Not to steal a line from NWA’s original gangsta Eazy-E.  And this might come as a pleasant surprise.  But I am entirely down with OPP!  After all, the OPP (Orange Presidential Prolapse) finally got something right.  A couple of months ago when describing the Covid pandemic, he stumblingly muttered, “Hey, it is what it is.”  And believe it or not, the red rectum was correct.  Or as Fonzi would exclaim… Correctamundo! (coincidentally pronounced kuh-rectum-undo).  

Libel Disclaimer: Not to be confused with the Undo’s in Benwood or anything deemed “presidential anal.”  And yeah, I know that OPP was from Naughty By Nature.  I mean, I’m not a fucking idiot.  Capiche?

So let’s just agree that 2020 was… uh, well… it was what it was.

Alright, here’s the dealio.  At the end of 2019, I made a New Years resolution to do something out of the ordinary.  My idea was to write 365 letters and send them out via the United States Postal Service.  That’s 365 physical letters to people from my past.  Family, friends, K-12, college, and even a few people I dislike and/or barely know.  I’d say about 75% of the recipients came directly off my facebook friends list.  This is important to note.  Because I did make a concerted effort to avoid using that particular list as a crutch.

Anyway, I figured what the hell.  Turning 50 has a certain half-century panache.  So why not step out of my literary comfort zone?

I could have kept an accurate response tally and broke down the percentages.  But I just didn’t feel like going the extra mile.  After all, writing that shit every day was kind of a pain in the ass.  Hey, each letter was a minimum of 4 pages long and took me on average about 40 minutes to write, reasonably proofread, print out, and pitch in the mailbox.  Each letter was, for the most, unique to the individual.  I mean… sometimes I’d ramble on about Trump or Covid or the weather.  But for the most part, I tried to veer away from the daily news and political scene.  It was my desire to evoke more faded memories and shared experiences, silly observations, you get the drift, blah.  Sometimes it clicked.  Sometimes it didn’t.  Whatever.  In the end, it was a worthwhile experience as it helped me grow into the compassionate human being and upstanding citizen you’ve all come to know and love.  Yada-yada-yada… and all that crap.  (obligatory dry heave).

My biggest regret.  I should have used the “make your own stamp” website thing.  Could have made a stamp out of my AGSAF logo.  Even though the website’s temporarily offline.  Don’t ask.

Another regret was failing to explain exactly HOW I obtained everyone’s mailing address (fastpeoplesearch.com).  Probably should have mentioned it in the cover letter.  You know, to help avoid the likelihood of being deemed a creeper/stalker.

Seriously though, many of the responses were heartfelt and very much appreciated.  As I was saying, I shoulda kept more precise tabs on this whole thing.  I could sift through it all but I’m just not feelin’ it today.  

In a nutshell, out of 365 unique letters, close to half of all recipients responded in one form or another.  The other half didn’t.

I’d say about 120 responded via facebook messaging, email, or text message.  As I really don’t care much for lengthy phone conversations, I chose not to include my phone number.  You gotta realize that I’ve had zero contact with some of these people for 30 to 40 years.  Those letters tended to be far more expressive as they focused on very specific, distinct childhood memories.

About 40 people replied with actual physical letters.  Some of them very poignant.  And on a few occasions, even a gift of some sort.  Merry Fuckin’ Hanukkah Mother Fuckers!

About 30 or so came back as undeliverable.  And required additional physical address research.  But in the end, all of them reached a destination of some sort.  Even if it was trash can, recycling bin or welcoming chiminea.

Naturally, one individual near the end was left emotionally traumatized.  As my letter obviously violated the sanctity of her marriage, and to a lesser extent, her mailbox.  Letter #359!  Truth be told, I should have known better.  Some people just aren’t mentally capable of dealing with the slightest external stimuli.  You know who you are.  May I humbly suggest avoiding any future attempt of portraying yourself as a rock’n’roll star.  Whoops, too late.

In the cover letter, I offered up a challenge for each recipient to commence a letter writing campaign of their own.  While I doubt anybody took the bait and committed themselves to an entire years worth of dedicated, daily correspondence, many did remark how they intend to pen more letters in the future.  But in the end, it’s impossible to fully gauge the impact.  Yet the whole idea did lend itself to a certain “conversational spark.”  Yeah, that fucking douchebag Saf sent me some nonsensical, rambling bullshit.  Felt obliged to read it though.  What an assclown!  So I think it’s safe to say that it did have some sort of impact.  Particularly in a small town like Wheeling.  Wheeling residents accounted for about half of the literary load, or as Trump would say, “massive mail dump.”

So… what’s in store for 2021?  Good question!

The answer is song parodies.  365 to be precise!  Starting tomorrow...

Wednesday, December 09, 2020

Book VIII

Never Forget Losing


Prologue:

Cum all ye hateful!  Deck the balls with fists of fury!  

Gather round the triple X-mess tree and sing these refurbished Beatles classics.  This collection of free NFL karaoke parodies will surely bring infinite yuletide joy to yinz and yours.  And don't call me surly.

Periodic Table of Wanton Elements: (table of contents)

1.  Younghoe Koo Chee (Hello Goodbye)

2.  Derek Carr (Drive My Car)

3.  Eric Saferstein (Yellow Submarine)

4.  I Am The Butt Kiss (I Am The Walrus)

5.  Symptomatic Of (All You Need Is Love)

6.  Goodell (Michelle)

7.  Playoffs (Blackbird)

8.  Super Bowl (Yesterday)

9.  Tennessee (Let It Be)

10.  Lawrence Taylor (Come Together)

11.  Hey Jeud (Hey Jude)


Encore #1:  Queer Football Fantasy (Dear Mr. Fantasy)

Encore #2:  Asymmetric Warfare (Octopus’s Garden)

 

1.  Younghoe Koo Chee (Hello Goodbye)

You say Koo, I say Chee
You say fuck and I say me, me, me, oh no
You say Koo Chee and I say Younghoe
Younghoe Younghoe
I don't know why you say Koo Chee, I say Younghoe
Younghoe Younghoe
I don't know why you say Koo Chee, I say Younghoe

I say egg, you say roll
You say rock and I say you got Seoul, oh no
You say egg roll and I say Younghoe
(Younghoe egg roll Younghoe egg roll) Younghoe Younghoe
(Younghoe egg roll) I don't know why you say egg roll, I say Younghoe
(Younghoe egg roll Younghoe egg roll) Younghoe Younghoe
(Younghoe egg roll) I don't know why you say egg roll
(Younghoe egg roll) I say Younghoe

Why why why why why do you say coochie coochie, oh no?

You say coochie and I say Younghoe
Younghoe Younghoe
I don't know why you say coochie, I say Younghoe
Younghoe Younghoe
I don't know why you say coochie, I say Younghoe

You say Young (I say Young) I say Hoe (But I may mean hoe)
You say fuck (I can fuck) but I say ho, ho, ho (You're a fucking hoe),
Oh no
You say Koo Chee but I say Younghoe
(Younghoe Koo Chee Younghoe Koo Chee) Younghoe Younghoe
(Younghoe Koo Chee Younghoe Koo Chee) I don't know why you say Koo Chee, I say Younghoe
Younghoe Younghoe
(Younghoe Koo Chee Younghoe Koo Chee) I don't know why you say Koo Chee, I say Younghoe
Younghoe Younghoe
I don't know why you say Koo Chee, I say Younghoe whoa
Younghoe

Hela heba helloa
Hela heba helloa, cha cha cha
Hela heba helloa, wooo
Hela heba helloa, hela
Hela heba helloa, cha cha cha
Hela heba helloa,

I don’t know why you say Koo Chee, I say Younghoe, whoa
Younghoe

Dedicated to DaeHo Suk.  Straight outta L.A.  Smoke up, produce, and shit this shit out.

Meta-tags: Younghoe Koo, Atlanta Falcons, NFL, coochie, rock and roll, egg roll, Seoul, Hello, Goodbye, Shalom, intercourse

Hello Goodbye (Paul McCartney, 10-29-02, America West Arena, Phoenix, AZ)

You say yes, I say no
You say stop and I say go go go, oh no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello hello
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello
Hello hello
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello

I say high, you say low
You say why and I say I don't know, oh no
You say goodbye and I say hello
(Hello goodbye hello goodbye) Hello hello
(Hello goodbye) I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello
(Hello goodbye hello goodbye) Hello hello
(Hello goodbye) I don't know why you say goodbye
(Hello goodbye) I say hello

Why why why why why why do you say goodbye goodbye, oh no?

You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello hello
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello
Hello hello
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello

You say yes (I say yes) I say no (But I may mean no)
You say stop (I can stay) and I say go go go (Till it's time to go), oh
Oh no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello hello
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello
Hello hello
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello
Hello hello
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello hello

Hela heba helloa
Hela heba helloa, cha cha cha
Hela heba helloa, wooo
Hela heba helloa, hela
Hela heba helloa, cha cha cha
Hela heba helloa,

I don’t know why you say goodbye I say hello, whoa
Hello

2.  Derek Carr (Drive My Car)

Asked myself, who I want at QB
Even though, he’s got a bum knee
I wanna nice anus, his crack is so clean
Best piece of ass, that you’ve ever seen

Hey you should start Derek Carr
Yeah, he likes to throw it far
Hey you should start Derek Carr
Butt maybe he’ll fuck you

I touched myself and I got morning wood
And Carr said up my ass, as it should
Taking it anal, is not the worst crime
Butt I’ll show you how to sodomize

Hey you should start Derek Carr
Yeah, he likes to throw it far
Hey you should start Derek Carr
Butt maybe he’ll fuck you

Deep deep’m deep deep yeah

Hey you should start Derek Carr
Yeah, he likes to throw it far
Hey you should start Derek Carr
Butt maybe he’ll fuck you

I told myself, Super Bowl is today
And Carr said, listen up, my ass all the way
I got some gas, I’m afraid I might fart
And I need a shitter before I shart

Hey you should start Derek Carr
Yeah, he likes to throw it far
Hey you should start Derek Carr
Butt maybe he’ll fuck you

Deep deep’m deep deep yeah
Deep deep’m deep deep yeah
Deep deep’m deep deep yeah
Deep deep’m deep deep yeah

Dedicated to Killer and the clown carnival of vehicular egomaniacs.

Meta-tags: Derek Carr, Las Vegas Raiders, NFL, ass, morning wood, anal, sodomy, Super Bowl, flatulence, excretion

Drive My Car (Paul McCartney, 7-21-09, Citi Field, New York City, NY)

Asked a girl what she wanted to be
She said, "baby, can't you see
I want to be famous, a star on the screen
But you can do something in between

Baby, you can drive my car
Yes, I'm gonna be a star
Baby, you can drive my car
And maybe I'll love you"

I told a girl that my prospects were good
And she said, "baby, it's understood
Working for peanuts is all very fine
But I can show you a better time

Baby, you can drive my car
Yes, I'm gonna be a star
Baby, you can drive my car
And maybe I'll love you"

Beep beep'm beep beep yeah

Baby, you can drive my car
Yes, I'm gonna be a star
Baby, you can drive my car
And maybe I'll love you

I told a girl I can start right away
And she said, "listen, babe, I got something to say
I got no car and it's breaking my heart
But I've found a driver and that's a start

Baby, you can drive my car
Yes, I'm gonna be a star
Baby, you can drive my car
And maybe I'll love you"

Beep beep'm beep beep yeah
Beep beep'm beep beep yeah
Beep beep'm beep beep yeah
Beep beep'm beep beep yeah

3.  Eric Saferstein (Yellow Submarine)

I was born into a threat
Stadium security
And I post shit on the net
By the name of Saferstein
So they censored with a ban
I.S.P. was really mean
Oh the lives he tried to save
Goes by Eric Saferstein

The NFL hates Eric Saferstein
Eric Saferstein, Eric Saferstein
The NFL hates Eric Saferstein
Eric Saferstein, Eric Saferstein

And the government’s a whore
When they knocked on my front door
FBI heard what they say

The NFL hates Eric Saferstein
Eric Saferstein, Eric Saferstein
The NFL hates Eric Saferstein
Eric Saferstein, Eric Saferstein

(We want him dead Mr. Heckman, he’s a deadhead
He’s a deadhead he is, Agent
Fire mountain, fire mountain
Aye, aye, sir, fire
Fuck him, fuck him)


I still speak and say my peace
The Pittsburgh cops (the Pittsburgh cops), they all agree (and steal my weed)
DHS (DHS) and secret team (secret team)
They want Eric (they want Eric) Saferstein (Saferstein ha ha)

The NFL hates Eric Saferstein
Eric Saferstein, Eric Saferstein
The NFL hates Eric Saferstein
Eric Saferstein, Eric Saferstein
The NFL hates Eric Saferstein
Eric Saferstein, Eric Saferstein
The NFL hates Eric Saferstein
Eric Saferstein, Eric Saferstein

Dedicated to the person playing the part of Eric Saferstein… me!  (Alice Cooper outro)

Meta-tags: asymmetric warfare, artificially generated stampede, dominipede, viral blitzkrieg, cybersecurity, public safety, NFL stadiums, wireless contamination, emergency evacuation protocol, plausible deniability, hypothetical litigation, lose-lose propositions, paradox, catch-22, local police, Secret Service, FBI, DHS, multi-billionaire sports team owners, legislative, executive, and judicial branches of government.

Yellow Submarine (The Beatles, official video)

In the town where I was born
Lived a man who sailed to sea
And he told us of his life
In the land of submarines
So we sailed up to the sun
'Til we found a sea of green
And we lived beneath the waves
In our yellow submarine

We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine

And our friends are all aboard
Many more of them live next door
And the band begins to play

We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine

(Full speed ahead Mr. Parker, full speed ahead
Full speed ahead it is, Sergeant
Action station, action station
Aye, aye, sir, fire
Captain, captain)


As we live a life of ease
Everyone of us has all we need (has all we need)
Sky of blue (sky of blue) and sea of green (and sea of green)
In our yellow submarine (in our yellow, submarine, ha ha)

We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine
We all live in a yellow submarine
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine

4.  I Am the Butt Kiss (I Am The Walrus)

I am ass and you have gas that you shall pass.
A football’s made of leather
See how it’s done a whole lotta fun
See how they shit
I’m shite-ing

Farting on a toilet
Waiting for the crap to come   
Extraverted butthole, super dirty rectum
Hey why do you jump for joy   
You got your asshole out

They are the offense
We are the defense
I am the Butt Kiss
Boo boo b’boob

Fister shitty ass man shitting
Hammer, sickle used for a dildo
See how they shit, like pumpkin in the pie, see how it’s done       
I'm shite-ing, I’m shite-ing
I'm shite-ing

Fecal matter retard
Choating for a marble rye
Motherfucker crab cake, meaty curtain cunt flaps
Hey why do you jump for joy, you let your prolapse out.
They are the offense
We are the defense
I am the butt kiss
Boo boo b’boob

Throbbing with a homo hard on.
Waiting for a cunt
If the cunt don’t cum, you is a man
From eating all the pussy out

They are the offense
We are the defense
I am the butt kiss
Boo boo, b’boob, boo boo b’boob

Texting sexting tweeting suckers
Don't you think the tweeter tweets at you (ho ho ho, tweet tweet tweet, twat twat twat)
Time to defile, rape porn for a mile, see how they cried
I'm shite-ing

Urinary blizzard
Hoping for a golden shower
Hella New Vrindaban, shitting diarrhea
Man, you never even called me Edgar Allan Coe

They are the offense
We are the defense
I am the butt kiss
Boo boo boo b’boob, Boo boo boo b’boob
Boo boo b’boob, boo boo boo b’boob, boo
boob, boob, boobie
Booba, booba, booba
boob, booba
boob, booba


Dedicated to all the ATM machines worldwide.  Withdrawal fees, dispensing cash, tossing salads, etc.

Meta-tags: Dick Butkus, Chicago Bears, NFL, ass, inflammatory bowel disease, defecation, offense, defense, fisting, dildo, Mabel Choate, marble rye, crab cakes, meat curtains, cunt, twitter, golden shower, Hare Krishna, diarrhea, Edgar Allan Coe

I am the Walrus (Oasis, Columbiahalle, Berlin, Germany 2002)

I am he as you are he as you are me.
And we are all together.
See how they run like pigs from a gun.
See how they fly.
I'm crying

Sitting on a corn flake
Waiting for the van to come.        
Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday     
Man you've been a naughty boy   
You let your face grow long

I am the egg man
They are the egg men
I am the walrus
Goo goo g'joob

Mister City policeman sitting
Pretty little policemen in a row   
See how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run       
I'm crying, I'm crying
I'm crying, I'm crying

Yellow matter custard
Dripping from a dead dog's eye
Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess
Boy, you've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down    Hey,
I am the egg man
They are the egg men
I am the walrus
Goo goo g’noob

Sitting in an English garden
Waiting for the sun
If the sun don't come you get a tan.
From standing in the English rain

I am the egg man (now good sir)
They are the egg men (a poor man, made tame to fortune's blows)
I am the walrus
Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob (good pity)

Expert, texpert choking smokers
Don't you think the joker laughs at you (ho ho ho, hee hee hee, hah hah hah)
See how they smile like pigs in a sty, see how they snide
I'm crying

Semolina Pilchard
Climbing up the Eiffel tower
Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna.
Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe

I am the egg man
They are the egg men
I am the walrus
Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob
Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob, goo
Joob, joob, goober
Jooba, jooba, jooba
Joob, jooba
Joob, jooba

5.  Symptomatic Of (All You Need Is Love)

Kuh Roe Nuh
Kuh Roe Nuh
Kuh Roe Nuh

The virus in the air is not much fun
Virus you can Trump but can’t be Trumped
Virus here to stay, but you can play the game of mask shame
He’s needy

Virus you can fake but can’t be faked   
Trump is a cunt that needs to be shaved
Virus here for you, but you contact trace all the fuckin’ time
He’s sleazy

Symptomatic of
Symptomatic of
Symptomatic of, of
Covid’s all you see

Symptomatic of
Symptomatic of
Symptomatic of, of
Covid’s all you see

The virus in the air, is on your phone
Trump is a twat that makes you groan
The virus here for you, Trump should issue apology
He’s greedy

Symptomatic of
Symptomatic of
Symptomatic of, of
Covid’s all you see

Symptomatic of (hey now anyhow)
Symptomatic of (anybody)
Symptomatic of, of
Covid’s all you need
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
Covid’s all you need
(Covid’s all you need)
(Covid’s all you need)
(Covid’s all you need)
(Covid’s all you need)
Yesterday
(Covid’s all you need)
Oh
(Covid’s all you need)
(Covid’s all you need)
Oh yeah
(Covid’s all you need)
(It kills you, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(It kills you, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Covid’s all you need)
(Covid’s all you need)

 

Dedicated to mankind.  To all those physically and emotionally impacted by the Covid-19 pandemic.

Meta-tags: Trump, coronavirus, mask shaming, fake news, shaved cunt, twat, contact tracing, death

All You Need Is Love  

(Paul McCartney, Joe Cocker, Eric Clapton, Rod Stewart, 6-3-03, Buckingham Palace, London, England)

Love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love, love

There's nothing you can do that can't be done
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung
Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy

Nothing you can make that can't be made
No one you can save that can't be saved
Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time
It's easy

All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need

All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need

There's nothing you can know that isn't known
Nothing you can see that isn't shown
There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be
It's easy

All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need

All you need is love (all together now)
All you need is love (everybody)
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
Love is all you need
(Love is all you need)
(Love is all you need)
(Love is all you need)
(Love is all you need)
Yesterday
(Love is all you need)
Oh
Love is all you need
Love is all you need
Oh yeah
Love is all you need
(She love you, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(She love you, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Love is all you need)
(Love is all you need)

6.  Goodell (Michelle)

Roger, Goodell
Fuck the owners too all go to hell
My Goodell
Roger, Goodell
Va te faire foutre go fuck yourself
Go fuck yourself
So fuck you, so fuck you, so fuck you
Even though you’re gay
Here’s what I have to say
You will suck my morning wood I know that you’ll use your hand

Roger, Goodell
Va te faire foutre go fuck yourself
Go fuck yourself
I’ll feed you, I’ll feed you, I’ll feed you
I’ll let you shit on me
Or puke and piss on me
Until fuck you, I'm soaping up my ass for your cream
Yo, fuck you!

I’ll suck you, I’ll suck you, I’ll suck you
Why don’t you blow me now
How now me now brown cow
Until fuck you, I’m telling you to talk to the hand
Roger, Goodell
Va te faire foutre go fuck yourself
Go fuck yourself
And if you suck my morning wood, I know that you'll use your hand
My Goodell


Dedicated to the greater good.  Hell, all good things…

Meta-tags: Roger Goodell, NFL, fucking, gay, fellatio, scat, vomit, anal, sucking, rounded vowel sounds

Michelle (Paul McCartney, White House, Washington, DC, June 2, 2010)

Michelle, ma belle
These are words that go together well
My Michelle
Michelle, ma belle
Sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble
Tres bien ensemble
I love you, I love you, I love you
That's all I want to say
Until I find a way
I will say the only words I know that you'll understand

Michelle, ma belle
Sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble
Tres bien ensemble
I need to, I need to, I need to
I need to make you see
Oh, what you mean to me
Until I do, I'm hoping you will know what I mean
I love you

I want you, I want you, I want you
I think you know by now
I'll get to you somehow
Until I do, I'm telling you so you'll understand
Michelle, ma belle
Sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble
Tres bien ensemble
And I will say the only words I know that you'll understand
My Michelle

7.  Playoffs? (Blackbird)

Playoff football and the time is right
Screw your broken bones and don’t ask why
Do not cry
You’re now ankle spraining down your hamstring and your thigh

Playoff football and the time is right
Tear apart your groin so you can’t pee
Do not cry
You’re now handicapping having blown out your own knee

Playoff try, playoff try
Bottle of wine and a dark brown shite

Playoff try, playoff try
Bottle of wine and a dark brown shite

Playoff football and the time is right
Screw your broken bones and don’t ask why
Do not cry
You’re now ankle spraining down your hamstring and your thigh
You’re now ankle spraining down your hamstring and your thigh
You’re now ankle spraining down your hamstring and your thigh

Dedicated to Jim Mora and all those who inevitably fail.  And anyone who gets injured.  Your misery and pain is our pleasure.

Meta-tags: Jim Mora, IndianĂ¡polis Colts, NFL, playoff football, broken bones, leg injuries, pulled groin, pain, urine, red wine, darkened excrement

Blackbird (Paul McCartney, 6-26-04, Glastonbury Music Festival, Pilton, Somerset, England)

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of a dark black night

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of a dark black night

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

8.  Super Bowl (Yesterday)

Super Bowl in a city that is not so cold
All the advertising’s very bold
Oh, sell your soul for Super Bowl

On Sunday, is the day that you’re supposed to play
You'll be fucked up well into Monday
Oh, Super Bowl is on Sunday

Is Goo-dell homo?
Maybe so, he wants corn-holed
Likes to suck a dong
It ain’t wrong on Super Bowl

Super Bowl, the NFL has complete control
Now it’s time to go and smoke a bowl
Oh, I’m so high for Super Bowl

Is Goo-dell homo?
Maybe so, he wants corn-holed
Likes to suck a dong
It ain’t wrong on Super Bowl

Super Bowl, the NFL has complete control
Now it’s time to go and smoke a bowl
Oh, I’m so high for Super Bowl

Mm mm mm mm mm mm mm


Dedicated to anyone who calls in sick and pukes in a toilet bowl… the day after the Super Bowl.

Meta-tags: Super Bowl, NFL, warm weather destination, tv ratings, Roger Goodell, corn-holing, fellatio, gay, marijuana 

Yesterday (The Beatles, 1965, Studio Live, New York City, NY)

Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay
Oh, I believe in yesterday

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be
There's a shadow hanging over me
Oh, yesterday came suddenly

Why she had to go?
I don't know, she wouldn't say
I said something wrong
Now I long for yesterday

Yesterday love was such an easy game to play
Now I need a place to hide away
Oh, I believe in yesterday

Why she had to go?
I don't know, she wouldn't say
I said something wrong
Now I long for yesterday

Yesterday love was such an easy game to play
Now I need a place to hide away
Oh, I believe in yesterday

Mm mm mm mm mm mm mm

9.  Tennessee (Let It Be)

When I find myself about to tackle, Derrick Henry tramples me
Daniels jacked the system, Tennessee
And since we're alcoholics, we are drinking bottles of whiskey
Daniels jacked the system, Tennessee
Tennessee, Tennessee
Tennessee, Tennessee
Lynchburg’s a tradition
Tennessee

And when the billion dollar owners, driven by a world of greed
You will be hungover, Tennessee.
And though you have cum-farted, there is still your ass, from which you’ll pee
You will be hungover, Tennessee

AFC, AFC
AFC, AFC        
Yeah, you will have your ass heard
AFC
AFC, AFC
AFC, AFC

Lynchburg’s a tradition
Tennessee

Tennessee
Tennessee, Tennessee
Yeah Tennessee
Lynchburg’s a tradition
Tennessee

And when the fans get rowdy, there are hurled chunks thrown up on me
Puke again in sorrow, Tennessee
I wake up to the stench of vomit, Derrick Henry’s fucking me
Daniels jacked the system, Tennessee

Tennessee, Tennessee
Tennessee, yeah, Tennessee
You will be hungover, Tennessee
Tennessee, Tennessee
Tennessee, yeah Tennessee
You will be hungover, Tennessee
Tennessee, Tennessee
Tennessee, yeah, Tennessee
Lynchburg’s a tradition
Tennessee


Dedicated to Jed.  When you get back you better butter my bread.

Meta-tags: Tennessee Titans, NFL, AFC, Derrick Henry, Jack Daniels, Lynchburg, greed, hangovers, diarrhea, vomit, intercourse

Let It Be (Billy Joel & Paul McCartney, 7-18-08, Shea Stadium, Queens, New York)

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom
Let it be

And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be        
Yeah, there will be an answer
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be

Whisper words of wisdom
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, yeah, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom
Let it be

And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me
Shine until tomorrow, let it be
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, yeah, let it be
There will be an answer
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, yeah, let it be
There will be an answer
Let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, yeah, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

10.  Lawrence Taylor (Come Together)

Hit me
Hit me
Hit me
Hit me

Here alcoholic
He come gin and juice slow mo
He got ganga goo ball
He one doobie roller
He got cocaine for a fee
Got to be a smoker
And freebase on his knees

Hit me
Hit me
Hit me
Hit me

Go get your shine box
He got papers papers
He got marijuana
He snort crack uh coke uh
He say I blow, you blow me
Crack cocaine I tell you it
Ain’t never for free
Lawrence Taylor, and more
Blow for me

Hit me
Hit me
Hit me

He big seduction
He got bears and gummi
He got oxycodone
He one football sacker
He buy from you for a small fee
Primus bootlegs to share
Sailing the seven seas
Lawrence Taylor, and more
Blow for me

Left
Hit me
Dumb

He got dirty toaster
He got bubble hockey
He got foosball table
He one super bowler
If you wanna ride, ride the white horse
Gonna have a big schlong
Cause of course he's a horse
Lawrence Taylor, and more
Blow for me

Hit me
Hit me
Hit me

Uh
Lawrence Taylor, yeah
Lawrence Taylor, yeah
Lawrence Taylor, yeah
Lawrence Taylor, yeah
Lawrence Taylor, yeah
Lawrence Taylor, yeah
Lawrence Taylor, yeah

Lawrence Taylor, yeah
Lawrence Taylor, yeah

 

Dedicated to Tony Soprano and the executive game… “Sir Lawrence from the Meadowlands.”

Meta-tags: Lawrence Taylor, New York Giants, NFL, gin & juice, ganga goo ball, marijuana, cocaine, shine box, papers x2, gummy bears, oxycodone, Primus, Super Chexx II, Tornado Cyclone II, Laid Back, Mister Ed  

Come Together (John Lennon, 1969, Madison Square Garden, New York City, NY)

Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me

Here come old flat top
He come groovin' up slowly
He got ju-ju eyeball
He one holy roller
He got hair down to his knee
Got to be a joker
He just do what he please

Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me

He wear no shoeshine   
He got toe jam football   
He got monkey finger
He shoot Coca-Cola
He say I know you, you know me
One thing I can tell you is
You got to be free   
Come together, right now
Over me

Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me

He bag production
He got walrus gumboot
He got Ono sideboard
He one spinal cracker
He got feet down below his knee
Hold you in his armchair
You can feel his disease
Come together, right now
Over me

Shoot me
Right
Come, come, come, come, come

He roller coaster
He got early warning
He got muddy water
He one mojo filter
He say one and one and one is three
Got to be good looking
'Cause he's so hard to see
Come together right now
Over me

Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me

Uh
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Uh
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah

11.  Hey Jeud (Hey Jude)

Hey Jeud, why aren’t you glad?
Take a bong hit a real go-getter
Dismember, and cut up all of their parts
They’ll have no arms, no legs forever

Hey Jeud, why are you sad?
Cannibal stew, menu and order
The liver, chianti and fava beans
A victim of Hannibal Lechter

And anytime you feel weight gain
Hey Jeud, abstain
Don’t eat the rump roast or brisket shoulder
For well you know that it’s the ass
Which passes gas
By spewing a foul distinctive odor

Na na na na, na na na na

Hey Jeud, don’t bring me down
Jeff Lynne told you, now E.L.O. her
Dismember, and cut off all of her parts
Then you can baste with stick of butter

So let’s stay in and have some din
Hey Jeud dig in
I’ll bring the fruit salad with Granny Smith
And don't you know that it’s just food
Hey number two
Bowel movement you had was on your shitter

Na na na na, na na na na

Hey Jeud, why aren’t you glad?
Take a bong hit a real go-getter
Dismember, and cut off all of her parts
Then you can baste with stick of butter
Butter, butter, butter, butter, butter, Yeah!

Blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah
Blah-blah-blah, blah
Hey Jeud, oh, Jeud
Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah
Blah-blah-blah, blah
Hey Jeud, oh, Jeud
You’ll carve it, Jeud
Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah
Oh, hey Jeud
Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah
Blah-blah-blah, blah
Eat it, Jeud
Yeah, yeah
Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah
Eat it, Jeudy, Jeud
Blah-blah-blah, blah
Hey Jeud
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Blah-blah-blah, blah
Oh, yeah
Blah-blah-blah, blah, blah
Oh yeah, Jeud
Carve it for me
Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah
Blah-blah-blah, oh yeah
Oh, ooh-ooh-ooh

Jeud
Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah
Blah-blah-blah, blah
Hey Jeud
Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah, oh-oh
Blah-blah-blah, blah
Hey Jeud, Jeud, Jeud
Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah
Hey Jeud, Jeud, Jeud
Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah
Carve it, Jeud, carve it
Oh, oh, oh, whoa
Blah, da-da, ad, la-di-di-da
Oh, whoa, whoa
Blah, blah, blah

Blah, blah, blah-blah, blah-blah-blah, blah

Dedicated to all those who’ve been Jewed and screwed.

Meta-tags: Jerry Jeudy, Denver Broncos, NFL, wide receiver, cannibalism, The Silence of the Lambs, obesity, meat, flatulence, Jeff Lynne, Electric Light Orchestra, butter, apples, bowel movement

Hey Jude (Paul McCartney, 6-27-10, Hard Rock Calling, Hyde Park, London, England)

Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

Hey Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better

Oh-oh-oh, and anytime you feel the pain
Hey Jude, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
For well you know that it's a fool
Who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder

Na

Hey Jude, don't let me down
She has found you, now go and get her
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Better, better, better

So let it out and let it in
Hey Jude, begin
You're waiting for someone to perform with
And don't you know that it's just you
Hey Jude, you'll do
The movement you need is on your shoulder
La, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, mm

Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
The minute you let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Better, better, better, better, better, whoa, yeah!

Na, na, na-na-na, na

Na-na-na, na
Hey Jude, oh, Jude
Na, na, na, na-na-na, na
Na-na-na, na
Hey Jude, oh, Jude
You'll make it, Jude
Na, na, na, na-na-na, na
Oh, hey Jude
Na, na, na, na-na-na, na
Na-na-na, na
Sing it, Jude
Yeah, yeah
Na, na, na, na-na-na, na
Sing it, Judey-Jude
Na-na-na, na
Hey Jude
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Na-na-na, na
Oh, yeah
Na-na-na, na, na
Oh yeah, Jude
Sing it to me
Na, na, na, na-na-na, na
Na-na-na, oh yeah
Oh, ooh-ooh-ooh
 
Jude
Na, na, na, na-na-na, na
Na-na-na, na
Hey Jude
Na, na, na, na-na-na, na, oh-oh
Na-na-na, na
Hey Jude, Jude, Jude
Na, na, na, na-na-na, na
Sing it, Jude, sing it
Oh, oh, oh, whoa
Na, da-da, ah, la-di-di-da
Oh, whoa, whoa
Na, na, na
 
Na, na, na-na, na-na-na, na

12.  Queer Football Fantasy (Dear Mr. Fantasy)

Queer Football Fantasy, big butt buffoon
tap that ass when it ain’t crappy
A tampon string pulls it out of the cooch
Suck a dong, ass to mouth
Happy pappy

He is the one and they all call him Saf
So listen up, you’ll freak out in fear
Please don’t be mad, when there’s a stampede to be had
We didn’t know shit the past 10 years

Dedicated to the Big Wheeling Buzz Saw (inspiration and co-writing credit)

Meta-tags: Fantasy football, NFL, ass, tampon string, vagina, penis, ATM, happy pappy (obscure Seinfeld reference), Saf, panic, human stampedes, feigned ignorance, obstruction of humanity

Dear Mr. Fantasy (Grateful Dead, 7-2-89, Sullivan Stadium, Foxboro, MA)

Dear Mister Fantasy play us a tune
Something to make us all happy
Do anything take us out of this gloom
Sing a song, play guitar
Make it snappy

You are the one who can make us all laugh
But doing that you break out in tears
Please don't be sad if it was a straight mind you had
We wouldn't have known you all these years

13.  Asymmetric Warfare (Octopus's Garden)

I’d like to live inside a cave
With my asymmetric warfare unafraid
I’ll fill you in, say what I’ve seen
‘Bout my asymmetric warfare unafraid
I’d tell my friends and rant with glee
‘Bout asymmetric warfare for free
I’d like to live inside a cave
With my asymmetric warfare unafraid

You’ll not conform maintain the norm
With the big ‘ol stadiums I tried to save
Trampling your head, until your dead
With my asymmetric warfare so depraved

They will run and flee the grounds
Because they don’t feel safe and sound
I’d like to live inside a cave
With my asymmetric warfare unafraid

They will shout wanna git out
The innocent lives I tried to save
(Lives that never could be saved)
Cell phone toy for everyone enjoy
Twitter and facebook marked them safe
(Facebook marked them safe)
I’ll be called a terrorist you’ll see
No one cares because I am a Jew

I’d like to live inside a cave
With my asymmetric warfare fuck you
With my asymmetric warfare fuck you
With my asymmetric warfare fuck you

Dedicated to those who were killed and injured in a preventable black swan.

Meta-tag: undiscussable

Octopus’s Garden (Ringo Starr & The Roundheads, 6-24-05,  Genesee Theatre, Waukegan, IL)

I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade
He'd let us in, knows where we've been
In his octopus' garden in the shade
I'd ask my friends to come and see
An octopus' garden with me
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade

We would be warm below the storm
In our little hideaway beneath the waves
Resting our head on the sea bed
In an octopus' garden near a cave

We would sing and dance around
Because we know we can't be found
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade

We would shout and swim about
The coral that lies beneath the waves
(Lies beneath the ocean waves)
Oh what joy for every girl and boy
Knowing they're happy and they're safe
(Happy and they're safe)
We would be so happy you and me
No one there to tell us what to do

I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden with you

Epilogue:

*  Since the last book:

nothing