Thursday, July 23, 2009

Jam 101 -- Funk You

yea, i haven't blogged in a week or something, but I also haven't porked anyone's mom in a week or so and no one's said anything about that.

Let's see...what to talk about with you jamokes. Hockey's far away, hammered is what I'm always getting, a jam approacheth---

YOU: A what-a whateth?
ME: A jam dickhead. You know, like a jam.

A jam. It's something that follows The Laws of the Conservation of Energy. It can neither be created nor destroyed. It's something that happens -- it doesn't occur. It's something that you can feel more than you can hear. It's something that is alive and inside. It moves and reproduces. It feeds and it grows. It's a million things more than it's a 'one single' thing. And there's no such thing as the same jam twice (that's just liberal bullshit talk).

Jams don't have to be dirty funky--but mine are. They don't have to make musical sense--I'm sure alot of mine don't. They don't have to have a top, a bottom, a beginning, or an end-- or a middle for that matter. A jam is just what it is--a fucking jam.

I know next to nothing about music theory. I know where like 5 notes are on the bass and I know where the octave to each note is.... so I know like 10 notes. I play with all sorts of people ranging from 'I-know-E-minor-sus-7-and-teach-guitar-at-george's-music' Bradford S Granberry to 'Woa-man,-check-out-this-tasty-Phish-lick' Scotty. There are styles and stipulations you have to actually bring to each jam. Here, lemme lay it down for y'all:


The Jam: As Sex

Woa, don't put it there--who's on my instrument!
Wrong hole--plug into my higher input!
Let's work into it slower now, it's starting to burn!
My turn to take it from the top, bitch!
Where the fuck are we right now?
Why do we always do it the way you want?
Now I'm feelin ya!
Give me that tasty lick!
Holy shit, we're going to explode all over the audience!
Hold on guys, some semen in my eye.

Just a few quotes you'll hear during the average jam. Complications and intimacies run amok over the course of a hot n heavy jam. And it's no wonder. Jams are complex, emotional, crazy creatures. You have bandmates and you don't want to step on their toes. (I won't get into what happens if you have feelings for your bandmates--and they're boys.) But you don't want to sit by on the sidelines and watch all the fun from the bench. What about the drummers feelings? Does he wanna mix it up and do some gay symbol tickling and intricate tom-work? What about your guitarists stamina-- can he withstand the rigors of intense in-your-face metal all jam long? Is your bass player solo-ing non-stop and jumping around all over the neck showing off his blazing speed instead of just laying down some solid thump? It's all very personal and very touchy. It doesn't take much to make a jam go awry, but it takes a shit-load to make a jam cut out a hot path of awesomeness.

Not only do you have to have make love to your instrument, you have to have sex with your bandmates. That's alot of dirty-dirty. And explains why Rock n Roll is all about drugs and sex.

1. Keep the Pace
Don't have everyone humping the air randomly with misguided musical notes at random intervals or you'll get something that sounds like baby sheep being thrown into an industrial blender. Stay in time. Relax. It doesn't have to be Opeth tight and technical. Keep it 4/4. Stay at a reasonable speed for the majority of the jam. You'll have your chance to unleash holy-solo-hell when the time is right.

2. Know What Makes THEM Feel Good
Don't just go out there and do what makes you feel good for 2 hours. Tickle the taint. Lay down some boring stuff and provide some cover-fire for the other guys to break out. This obviously has alot to do with your instrument and your style, but don't be that guy who solos the whole jam long or only plays the style best suited to your needs. Essentially, just don't be a selfish dick. Luckily in Uranium Bassment my boys Jones Benner and X-Factor will rock out, slow it up, and mix it up by throwing me a 'Funk Bass Jam' bone. Keeping the whole group satisfied is a hot way to 'simultaneously climax' all over during key parts of the Jam that just fucking sound 'awesome'.

3. Get Sensual
Feel the jam happen in you, in your instrument, and in your Bandies. Make love to your instrument. Go hot and heavy over her private parts or slowly build her up. This is crucial to 'changing directions without words', the hardest part of jamming. Hear your guitarist going lighter on the chords but adding that sinister bend? Is the drummer getting heavier and faster on the drums in a 'slowly building' kinda way? Something bad is about to happen and to make sure it gets pulled off in extreme awesome fashion you need to feel the subtleties around you. On the next measure make it happen. Let that wild animal passion rip out and put the balls to the wall at this next cymbal crash. Remember--musical instruments and bandmates can not press charges for rape.

4. Experiment
Whip out the blow-up dolls, the chocolate sauce, the scented candles, and put the ball gag in the dog's mouth-- it's time to mix it up. Who wants the jam to get boring? Fuck buddies is to married couple as funky jam is to written songs. Sure, they all have their place, but this is a mother-funkin jam. Don't go solo-ing around some weird Egyptian scale you learned last week all jam long but do try something weird here and there. Spice it up. Don't be afraid to mess up. You may not like it all--but you may just find the recipe for Liquid Gold.

5. Use Your Head.... Not That One
Sure, it's good to go in knowing scales and rules and pieces of songs and how to turn a riff ilonian or whatever but here's the key -- use your Dick. That's right. Whatever instrument you're playing is an extension of you. Strum that dick and crank your balls to volume 11. It's no use counting to 4. It's no use predicting where the E key fits halfway through your solo. Start just moving. I mean 'moving'. Sway with the beat. Turn off the brain. Pretend you just took your cocaine through a straw in a glass full of Jack Daniels alla Stevie Ray Vaughn and let it all out. Let go of that barrier of reason and logic. Stop thinking about the song and be the fucking song. This sound is an extension of you. If you want to shred some baby armadillo's in a wood chipper let your fingers carve a wicked riff. If you want to have sex with the pope on top of a cathedral drop those majestic beats and let your feet and snare drum do the prayin'. You feel the need to let loose the hot sexual magma of hurricane sex you slap the shit out of your dick and stop poppin' n lockin the dirtiest nastiest low-down frequencies you can find. Become something else. Become the jam.

So there it is. The Jam as sex. So next time you hear your neighbors strumming up the sweet sounds give yourself a chuckle. You know they're all dudes and if they're any good at jamming -- they're practically doing each other. LoL! MFG!!! Faggzzzzzzz!!!!

Friday, July 10, 2009

Wide World O Nick

it's been days on top of days since i've blogged. Here's the latest in


I ran over 4 miles yesterday.
I've been listening to alot of metal lately--
opeth, metallica, lamb of god, all that remains, etc
I've been obsessing over the Flyers n 'Prongs' all week.
I decided to start collecting other-team NHL jerseys--
------starting with a hot #9 Bobby Ryan (Cherry Hill what-what!)
I want to put on my boxing gloves tonight.
I'm writing this and listening to Uranium Bassment--
------Alexis on drum, Ben on Guitar, Me on the large-mouth fish
I've jammed w Hexxus and Gradford Branberry this week
I totally worked less hours than my girlfriend this week
I really like our song I'm hearing now. Black Precedent 02-1
I was told I'm paying rent in my own house on my B-Day--
------March 6, $200 / month
I really really need to do laundry.
I think I could harness the power of the sun to lift a charter bus--
-------filled with fat retards.
I'll prob play COD4 before I run in an hour--
I'll only use stab and grenade. No guns.
I think I do alot of the same thing over and over.
I've been wondering about the msytery of death.
I've been wondering where ear-wax comes from.
I've been wondering if the 2 are related.
I think Pronger is going to kill someone--
I just looked it up--the authentic Ryan jersey--
------cost $330ish
You only live once right?
I wonder how long I'll grow out my hair....
I think I'm sorta addicted to twitter--
Wow, I love Uranium Bassment.
My next blog is going to be about Uranium Bassment.
Or Darren Puppa.
I think the Phillies are awesome.
I am excited by almost every Phillies game--
------that's tough to do.
This team has the right stuff though.
I want to score an Utley (inside the park homer)
I want to get blood on my jersey this Sunday--
------at hockey.
I still haven't seen the movie Sunshine I bought 3 months ago.
I think I'll work out till I'm bigger than Chris Czech--
-----and gayer (just kidding)
Time to get my 'shit' together.
By shit I meant 'do something else'.
Fuckkkkk w a name on it, it's $380.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The Flyers: Destroying Teams (Literally)

If you can't beat 'em, beat 'em up.

Apparently that's the approach the Flyers have taken to the '09-'10 season.

And I think I like it.

There's still some shuffling to do, and some rumors about waiving Cote and sending players to the minors etc. but let's look at what we have right now:
The equivalent to War Machine on ice.

Let's look at the schedule here and take a look at things. The Flyers have some games coming up and are potentially playing... let's say.... The Penguins. Sure, the Flyers are about to play the Penguins for the first time since they knocked us out of the 2009 Stanley Cup Playoffs. And through some grace of Gary (Bettman) and luck of the draw (Red Wings did not play those last 2 games at all) they won the tourney (I refuse to call it The Cup until next year) last year and they think their shit don't stink. Let's say that. It's Thursday, October 8, and we're playing the dirty fucking Penguins.

Well, Homer looks over his roster sheet and he makes the call to Stevens:

"Ahem, John? Yea, it's me Paul. How's it going? Good, good. Just wanted to call about the team, about tomorrow's game. Did you know the metal gates between teams locker rooms were named after me? You did? Good, good, just wanted to make sure. Well for tomorrow's game here's who the fuck we're gonna dress for the game-"

Aaron 'Ash' Asham

--Owns a solid work ethic and is strong along the boards. Is also willing to crash the net to create scoring chances or even drop the gloves, which he's pretty good at.
HT: 5' 11 WT: 205
Drop Bombs on 'em.
PIM: 155

Daniel 'Car Bomb' Carcillo

Could become the next Sean Avery. Has shift-disturbing qualities and the ability to drop the gloves against anyone. Is a solid hitter, as well.
HT: 5' 11 WT: 203
STYLE: Dirty hair, dirty teeth, ridin' dirty punches
PIM: 324

'Rockin' Riley Cote

--Is always a willing pugilist, and understands his role as a team player. Has good size and the ability to be a bruising physical presence.
HT: 6' 1 WT: 210
STYLE: Rock 'em, Sock 'em, ohmygod
PIM: 202

Ian 'Lappy' Laperriere

--Is a very hard worker and earns a lot of respect in standing up for his teammates. Has strong forechecking and penalty-killing skills. Tends to rattle his opponents with his in-your-face attitude.
6' 1 WT: 200
STYLE: Right cross, right jab, right hook, right uppercut, win
PIM: 185

Mike 'Cannon' Richards

--Plays a smart, two-way game and possesses outstanding leadership qualities. Can kill penalties and also play the point on the power play. Leads by example.
HT: 5' 11 WT: 195
STYLE: fights w fire and fires off his Cannon!
PIM: 76

Ole-Kristian Tollefsen 'OKT'

--Loves to lay on the body and displays a wealth of toughness and aggression along the blueline. Has the makings of a sound defensive defenseman.
HT: 6'2 WT: 211
STYLE: The Nasty Norweigan Knuckler
PIM: 111 (in 51 GP)

Chris 'Darth Vader' Pronger

--Is an awesome one-on-one defender, has a great reach and can dish out punishing body checks. He's also an excellent power-play point man and born leader.
HT: 6' 6 WT: 213
FIGHT STYLE: Be larger than everyone. Throw 'bows.
PIM: 180

That's a combined 1,333 penalty minutes.... from 6 guys!
That's a 1,337 lb Meat Train on a crash course with TheEndofYourLife Blvd and OhGodiJustShitMyself Ave!
That's more fighting firepower than the entire Canadian military! (ahem)

Not to mention the extra-curriculars from the rest of the team!

We all know Darrol Powe will drop 'em. We all watch Scott Hartnell, his hair flailing, make a nice mess in engaging the enemy. Our God damn goalie does cocaine and then fights people. He doesn't just fight other goalies either--he fights skaters and trainers. Not to mention Brian Boucher back between the pipes, he only fought in the biggest brawl in recent NHL history. (see also -- Lalime). I've seen a sad, sad Randy Jones fight. I've seen Sami Kaps fight the Oilers' Horcoff a couple years ago. I once sat in my chair and watched JEFF CARTER punch out Ryan Whitney behind the Pens net. For Christ's sake, Braydon Coburn had 3 fights last year!

What I'm getting at is this: The Flyers are going to be the toughest team in the NHL. Bar none. It will be ridiculous how badass this group will be. And they might not win every game. The Flyers might not win the Stanley Cup this year. Fine! It just appears that 'letting certain players dropkick goals and slide into our net' didn't sit well with Flyer management. And it shouldn't!

The new NHL is all about finesse and skill--and hey, I'm a big fan of those two things but please-- gimme that old school toughness any day. I take Derian Hatchers and Jason Smith's 100 times over the Joni Pitkanin's and Andy Delmore's (but Christ almighty wasn't that a playoff series to remember?) of the league. Apparently the finesse and skill though, are the new 'in'.

And this team Homer is building is a direct middle finger to the new 'in'-- to the new NHL.

It's like Collin Campbell and Gary Bettman are holding hands and kissing in the dark, whispering seductive nothings into each other's ears. Coo'ing "Sidneysssss" gently into each other's hair and tonguing "Malkinnnnn" into each other's gay-ass foreheads. Barry White is playing when all of a sudden Paul Holmgren kicks down the door with a boombox on his shoulder and he's blasting Slayer at max volume. He dropkicks them both in their faces and unzips his pants, loosing his hot, steamy justice all over those two fairies.

At least that's what I imagine the formation of this new team is.

It makes no sense! You need 2 or 3 guys who fight and a couple extra to mix it up-- Tops! We have something like 15 guys who throw down! It's a team of testosterone charged murderers and rapists let loose in a school for blind hot chicks. It's like using a rocket-propelled grenade to take out a mosquito. And the weirdest part of the whole thing --- I still think they have a damn good shot at 'it all'.

But because NHL management has been trying it's hardest not to embrace this 'ugly side of hockey' we are marked men. We're doomed before this season even starts. Chances are-- we're going to get suspended. We're going to get fined. We're going to get screwed by the refs more times than a drunk bitch at a crew party.

And I'll bitch, I'll complain, I'll grit my teeth-- but I'll know my team can kick the ever-loving shit out of your team. I'll know that my guys, pound for pound, will take your guys out back old school, and let loose the fury on your fancy asses. And that's what real hockey is all about. None of this ticky-tack new age stuff. Hockey was built on guts and grit and gore and glory.

Every year the papers read: "Broad Street Bullies are Back!!!"

And it's just hype. It's just the 'same-old' to sell stories. But maybe it won't be so far from the truth this year. Maybe this is the year they actually mean it. Maybe we're back.

And I like it. Why not? Do what we're 'supposed to' in the new NHL? Just look at the Penguins! We all want to win the right way, right?
No thanks, fuck yourself.

And let's not only do that.
Let's take it a step further.
Let's wake this league the fuck up.

Let's cross check our enemies over and over and over. And over. Let's pound the piss out of anyone on their team who slashes and runs. Take a dive? I'm landing on you with my skate-blades first if I can--have your 2-minutes, I want your achilles. Let's get under their skin and boil that pampered blood. Let's break some bones. Let's tear into some soft, girly, new NHL skate queens. Let's see how your head feels pinned up agaisnt the boards. Let's see how awesome you can dangle without your front fucking teeth. Let's make every breath hurt.

Go ahead and beat us, too, cause we're going to make you pay for it-with quarts of blood -with chunks of teeth -with black and green and blue bruises -with tears and hate and unbearable pain -with a broken soul. With no will to live.

Go ahead and fuckin' bring it.
--We're the Philadelphia Flyers--

Let's destroy the NHL.