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JangoFett4Hire

Felonies!

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Guest Felonies!

I thought everyone just left their AIM running since it doesn't seem to shut down if you just close the buddy list window, you have to right-click the icon and tell it to sign off. Whatever, another day, another weak-ass shot from Vyce. At least it was in plain view this time; he usually talks shit about me in the Pit's music folder where I don't go often.

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I thought everyone just left their AIM running since it doesn't seem to shut down if you just close the buddy list window, you have to right-click the icon and tell it to sign off. Whatever, another day, another weak-ass shot from Vyce. At least it was in plain view this time; he usually talks shit about me in the Pit's music folder where I don't go often.

 

At least he hasn't mistaken you for Dan Rather yet.

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Whatever, another day, another weak-ass shot from Vyce.

 

I was stating a fact. You are on AIM pretty much all the time, from what I've seen.

 

At least it was in plain view this time; he usually talks shit about me in the Pit's music folder where I don't go often.

 

Please, I've made like two posts in that music folder referencing you. I've probably said more things about you in Boardum.

 

Who's giving you reports, Slayer?

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They gave ya the Beijing cocktail, if you stop movin'.....ya die!

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or he could...you know, read the board. Not often is not never.

 

Possible, but less likely than Slayer telling him shit.

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You put Ghost beneath their first one?

AM is good; Ghost isn't.

 

The debut is knocked a lot—and I can understand, as it's basically an Uncle Tupelo album with no Jay Farrar songs, but it's a solid set of country rock, regardless. The production on AGIB does that album in: unfeeling, inert, soulless. Even the band themselves perform in a cold, calculating fashion; luckily, these songs fared much better live, with the band giving a much needed looseness to the material.

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You put Ghost beneath their first one?

AM is good; Ghost isn't.

 

The debut is knocked a lot—and I can understand, as it's basically an Uncle Tupelo album with no Jay Farrar songs, but it's a solid set of country rock, regardless. The production on AGIB does that album in: unfeeling, inert, soulless. Even the band themselves perform in a cold, calculating fashion; luckily, these songs fared much better live, with the band giving a much needed looseness to the material.

 

I like AM a lot. I'm bummed that they basically have disowned it, there are some choice cuts on there like "Just that Simple" and "Box Full of Letters" but I really dig Ghost. "Spiders" alone is worth the price of admission.

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I like the studio version of "Spiders."

 

Between the two times I've seen them live post-AGIB, they performed every song on the album (save "Less Than You Think," which, well...); all of them trumped their studio counterparts, save "Hell is Chrome," which couldn't be helped at all.

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Guest Felonies!

There's like one cool moment in "Hell Is Chrome," that third chord he plays on the piano after the little opening phrase. I think it's a major seventh? I haven't tried to figure it out yet.

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We gonna drop this next bomb for a money makin' playa that ain't with us no mo.

Yeah, Notorious B.I.G.

Hell no, we gonna do this for a gangbanging thug that never seen it comin'.

Yeah, Tupac Shakur.

Nah bitch, I'm talkin' 'bout motherfuckin' Falco and shit.

What? Falco?.

 

Rock me Amadeus,

Rock me Amadeus,

Rock me Amadeus,

Rock me Amadeus.

 

Tried to O.D. on the Cold-Eeze,

"Golden Girls" got me "Sweatin' To The Oldies",

Hanging out like Double Ds sip Long Island Iced Teas,

Wrote to Mayor McCheese "Send a Shamrock Shake please!",

Three O' Clock on the dot time to cruise for Eighth graders,

Rather tape the Weather Channel so that I can watch it later,

Reruns of Rerun so What's Happening?,

Dee's knocked up and Rog on crack again,

Deep throat a whole Nutty Buddy,

Make whoopie to a batch of Silly Putty,

Make a Spam and Colgate sandwich and ate it,

Go through "National Geographic" and draw panties on the natives,

So I like to dance naked in front of my pets,

But my cat was inattentive so I sent him U.P.S.,

Playin' spin the bottle with my mom,

I watch "Cops" with no pants on.

 

Must've blown a fuse nothing's going on,

Lamer than the Pope climb the walls like King Kong,

Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes,

Deader than the parents on a Party of Five,

Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill,

Not going nowhere slim chance we will,

Less hip than Bo Jackson bored like wood,

Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

 

Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it,

Relax don't do it when you wanna cum,

Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it,

Relax don't do it when you wanna cum.

 

Nowhere to go I can't wake up late,

Just sit around and wait for my Old Spice to activate,

Stalemate jailbait in "My So-Called Life" imprisonment,

Amazing what a good breakfast pickles make isn't it?,

I like to pretend I'm speed reading,

Never lose the sight of the thrill of sneezing,

Don't need a shower today just some Brut by Faberge,

Smell the ass of my jeans clean they'll do another day,

And I recycle I sniff my own farts,

I dial the wrong number hope a conversation starts,

I mean I might as well be listenin' to Journey,

Givin' myself a mullet hook the Flowbee to the Kirby,

Make a prank call pretendin' I'm a mime,

Get stuck in traffic just to pass the time,

Sent a letter in the mail in Braille to Johnny Quest,

Send me back my Etch-A-Sketch.

 

Must've blown a fuse nothing's going on,

Lamer than the Pope climb the walls like King Kong,

Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes,

Deader than the parents on a Party of Five,

Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill,

Not going nowhere slim chance we will,

Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood,

Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

 

Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it,

Relax don't do it when you wanna cum,

Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it,

Relax don't do it when you wanna cum.

 

I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums,

When you wanna cum,

I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums,

When you wanna cum,

I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums,

When you wanna cum,

I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums,

When you wanna cum.

 

Yo yo yo yo yo! What it is motherfuckers?

Aw shit, here comes Pac-Man.

Hey Pac-Man, what's up?

Me you bitches! I'm high on crack! Wanna freebase?

No Pac-Man drugs are bad!

Nope can't help you man.

Pussies. Whoa! Holy shit!

 

Must've blown a fuse nothing's going on,

Lamer than the Pope climb the walls like King Kong,

Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes,

Deader than the parents on a Party of Five,

Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill,

Not going nowhere slim chance we will,

Less hip than Bo Jackson bored like wood,

Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

 

Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it,

Relax don't do it when you wanna cum,

Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it,

Relax don't do it when you wanna cum,

 

Holy macaroni,

Holy macaroni,

Holy macaroni,

Holy macaroni.

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