Archive for January, 2008


Further proof that nothing is sacred…

First CBGB’s, then my favorite coffee place and now the “Black House” that Anton LaVey used for the Church of Satan has been turned into condos.

This world is completely going to shit.


Cloverfield in 15 minutes…

Don’t read if you haven’t seen the movie.

Pretty hilarious recollection of the movie.

Also, Matt Reeves confirmed that they’re in talks for a sequel. Maybe we’ll get our fucking explanation.

Now it’s time for me to watch more LOST.


Movie Review: RAMBO…



That’s about the three words that I could muster for this.

I like action movies. A lot. I feel as if they’ve toned down action movies as of late so they don’t offend the sensibilities of the delicate people that have inherited the world. Rambo serves as a “fuck you” and an arrow in the throat of what a joke the genre has become in recent years.

Sylvester Stallone managed to make an action flick with balls the size of my house.

You want an anti-aircraft gun tearing people apart? You got it.

You want people exploded from mortars? You got it.

You want babies ripped from their mother’s arms and thrown into burning buildings? You got it.

What you have here is a simple set up. Christian missionaries embark to war torn Burma to deliver food, medicine and bibles to the people who are being ravaged by a merciless army. They find John Rambo in Thailand to take them up the river to deliver these goods. Rambo is a bitter man who just wants to be left alone and live a quiet life, as he’s tired of the world.

After general coercing by a young lady (played by Julie Benz of Dexter fame,) he reluctantly agrees to take them on their trip.

After dropping them off, the military presence comes in and blows the living shit out of anything that moves. Most of the missionaries are killed, those who aren’t are taken into captivity.

The pastor of the church that they are from shows up to have Rambo guide a group of mercenaries up river to find and rescue the missionaries.

I don’t want to ruin the finer plot points for you, but I will say that you see more than ample amounts of shit getting fucking WRECKED.

If you’re looking for Oscar material, look elsewhere. This is a man’s movie and nothing more.

Highly recommended if you’re anything like me and like seeing all sorts of shit blow up and be shredded by .50 caliber machine guns.



Terrell Owens crying…

He’s still a douchebag.


Rest in peace…

Rest in peace, Bun Penny...

I had meant to write this last week when it was closing but I kept forgetting to take my camera with me. I wanted to get a picture of the store before it closed but since I have a faulty memory, I couldn’t the picture until after it had closed.

Bun Penny was the place in the mall next to my restaurant that I would go every day before my shift to get a cup of coffee.

It had been in that mall for 37 years, which for a small, independently owned place is a long, long time. Through recent trouble with the mall management and their constant increases in rent, Bun Penny had to shut down.

From what I read, General Growth Properties (the company that manages the mall) had tried to raise the rent for the store to an outlandish $38,000 a month. This comes as no surprise as they’ve been doing this since they took over the Mall In Columbia. They did it exactly a year ago with another landmark independently owned hobby store called Create-A-Hobby (which has since been turned into a fucking Hollister, no kidding.)

What gets to me is that a store that has deep roots in that mall is being replaced by Williams Sonoma, a dime a dozen cooking store that sells outrageously priced crap that you can easily get elsewhere for a quarter of the price.

General Growth has managed to force out just about every independently owned store in that mall within a year. What’s it been reduced to is just plain horrible.

But then again, everyone that’s wearing their Hollister shirts and drinking Starbucks piss coffee don’t really care.



Unsane - New York City's finest...

While cruising around the internet, I happened upon a bonus track from the Japanese release of the latest Unsane release, Visqueen.

Here is it for your listening pleasure.

U.S.N.C on Sendspace. (Note: opens in new window.)



Fuck Ozzy Osbourne…

The shirt that cost $78.

Once again, I’ll say it.

Fuck Ozzy Osbourne.

It’s tough for me to say it, but for the past decade, I’ve watched someone that I’ve looked up to for a long time essentially go from being one of the founders to the greatest band of all time to being nothing more than corporate shill for sale to the highest bidder.

Why do I say this? Here’s a little story…

The other day while browsing a major metal website Blabbermouth, I happened upon the news that Ozzy was going to be doing a meet and greet at Nordstrom in Northern Virginia.

I told some of my friends about it and since it was my friend’s birthday, we figured that we’d make the trek down there and meet the voice behind Black Sabbath and have a great time.

Or so we thought.

I had read that in order to meet Ozzy, you had to purchase a piece of clothing from the Affliction clothing line. I checked the price of shirts and figured that it wasn’t too bad a price to pay to meet Mr. Osbourne.

We arrived at the Tysons Corner Center elated that we would get our pictures taken and an autograph. Nothing was going to deter us from this. It was our sole mission for today.

When we walked through the front door of the store, a kind young lady gave us a sheet with how to make your purchase and go about meeting Ozzy.

The instructions were this (taken directly from the sheet…)

How to meet Ozzy:

– Make your Affliction purchase in the store.
– Proceed to stand in line.
– As soon as Ozzy arrives, we will begin checking customers in.
– Present your receipt to our check-in desk and receive and an Affliction bracelet.
– Only those who purchase an Affliction item, will receive a bracelet and be allowed to stand in line.
– Please no guests in line.


– Please know, you are only allowed one photograph per Affliction clothing purchase.
– Due to the popularity of the Ozzy, we cannot guarantee that you will be able to meet with him in person.
– Meet with Ozzy while time permits.

Okay, easy enough.

That’s until we saw the Affliction clothing line.

That shirt that I have pictured above, take a guess how much that motherfucker cost?

Give up?

Seventy eight American dollars.

No, I am not kidding at all. It cost that much money for a shitty looking, flimsy shirt that some art school dork wouldn’t be caught dead in.

You know, no big deal if you’re rolling in the dough but if I’m not. I can’t even pay my bills on time because I’m a total schlep.

My friends and I decide to see if we can weasel our way in, but no dice. They had the entire scene on lock down. We decided to sit down and review our options when one of the hired security guards came over and started giving us the typical hired security guard line of questioning.

“Are you getting in line? If you’re not, then…”

I cut him off and said “then get out?”
That opened a floodgate because after I muttered that, the security guard was soon joined by a few of his colleagues and it felt like we weren’t welcome there. I, of course, decided to make my grievances be known while we were leaving.

After that we decided to walk around the mall and get some food while still going over what we can do. My friend’s girlfriend decided that they were going to buy a shirt, meet Ozzy and then return it. Easier said than done. I wasn’t present, but from what I gathered they had purchased the shirt and while he was in line to meet Ozzy, one of the people that work for Affliction who probably likes professional wrestling and is glad to see American Gladiators back on the air quickly questioned her and then pulled my friend out of line. He left willingly but felt cheated as did the rest of us.

We had driven about an hour and a half to meet Ozzy with only the expectation of getting a photo and a story to tell people but instead we were treated like complete and utter tools with having to make a purchase that was far beyond our means in order to meet a man that I’ve held in regard for so long.

Of course, we weren’t the only ones that felt that way. There was a long streak of dissent from people who shared our disbelief that we were treated like that. It was nothing more than a sales ploy by both Nordstrom and Affliction to prey on people’s thinking that it would be easy to meet a celebrity. It seems as if the lovable Ozzy that people expect from his television show has been replaced by a sap controlled by a opportunist cunt that hold his strings and checks his bank account. But then again, this is the modern world where anyone will sell out in a heartbeat in order to benefit off the mindless ways of the masses.

From now on, I’m going to look at Black Sabbath (who are one on my favorite bands) and everything that Ozzy has done in his solo career in a nostalgic light because his soul died a long time ago with signing on the dotted line to become another fucking corporate puppet. His relevancy has been diminished and he should just finally fucking retire and fade away.

Thanks for the memories, Ozzy.

Yours Truly,
A Former Fan.