7-list: some shits I hate

#1: Van Halen reunion tour – makes me feel old because bands from when I was youth-filled are reuniting to snap up nostalgia dollars from motherfuckers; which also makes me feel stupid because I’m still a broke-ass piece of shit twenty-some years later who couldn’t afford to go to a stupid Van Halen show at whatever ridiculous ticket prices they’ll have to afford Eddie to get some new modernized color splatters on his flying W 9 string guitars; also, I had a brief spell there in my mid-twenties where I was living with cokeheads and we ran a turntable constantly so I dabbled fully in the understandment of true shit rock-n-roll from back then, and you know what? Van Halen kinda sucks on a whole; it’s rock-n-roll for like completely sober bookstore managers and dorky shitheads like that; although I have to say, it’s hard not to like David Lee Roth, who personifies the rock star stereotype, because, unlike those one hit wonders who chant “PARTY LIKE A ROCK STAR” seven thousand times in their song, Diamond Dave has probably had a ménage-a-trois that involved a non-human, which is fine by me, because if I was in that position and strange hot bitches wanted to fuck me every night, it would probably get boring and I’d like to see if I could get some low self-esteem chick to fellate a la mancha goat
#2: hip hop is dead meme – if you go by what’s on the radio, hip hop has always been dead, and always will be; cut the fuckin’ shit off because the radio is always gonna be stupid and not stupid in the way Schoolly D might’ve used it in 1988 while wearing a black t-shirt with white iron-on letters that said NO MORE ROCK AND ROLL
#3: impending 8 Diagrams hype – more like eight diaphragms for all the pussies that are gonna get fucked into thinking it’s gonna be some for-real classic Wu shit
#4: sad realizations while listening to classic rock station while working – you know, it’s one thing to know that the Dave Mathews Band sucks and it’s stupid for people to think they should drive around the country in their leased SUV pockmarked with “clever” bumper stickers and like four different peace frogs decals, but they played some song today which I think is called “Crash” because I think that is a popular song of his, and I realized when accidentally paying attention to the lyrics for the first time in my life, there’s probably fuckers on this earth who think that’s some awesome shit to be listening to while having sex; that made me really sad deep down in my soul, but also motivated me to try and make more kids than they make to eventually outnumber them, but my wife is already pregnant so I’m at least doing my part; unless you consider the fact I haven’t attempted to take in a second woman to impregnate as well, which I have, just didn’t feel like forcing the issue; the multiple wives thing is fine by me but I have a hard time when manifesting this situation underneath the new moon figuring out how to explain to all my kids they don’t have the same moms
#5: the Outlaw station on the stupid satellite radio machine beaming brainwashing into my truck – man, only once have I flipped to that station and it not been something fucking weak and womanly, and that was when I was telling my boy Brown how the station always sucked and tried to flip it there to prove it, and they were playing “Concrete and Barbed Wire” by Lucinda Williams (who by the way is playing near me next month, but I’m probably still gonna be a broke ass, and I’d want to go and hear her be awesome and raise hell and she’d probably be all moody looking at the ground and singing her sad heroin junkie-like laments that she’s been doing the past five years; she needs a good hard weekend-long simple-minded man fucking her methinks); most of the time on the outlaw satellite station (an obvious oxymoron), it’s stupid old country songs talking about beer but sounding like shit urban lesbians would play to appear cool and reverse open-minded, or it’s Shooter Jennings (who sounds like he’d want a good hard weekend-long simple-minded man fucking him)
#6: people who pretend Kelly Clarkson is hot – for real, I love a big ass better than most dudes, but she’s got some tiny tits, and usually big assed women are fully endowed into the archaic descriptive word “buxom”; I’m sure, this being the internet, there’s a whole sub-culture of dudes who love chicks with large wide asses and almost no breasts and there’s probably some acronym I don’t know the meaning of people use on craigslist to weed out people who are too square to not want to have a giant-assed woman force you to eat her anus by sitting upright during kama sutra woodcarving position 69 and then pinching her own tiny little nipples until she orgasms and then asking you to leave the hotel room you paid for
#7: I really wanted to get drunk tonight and listen to ZZ Top’s Tejas record but couldn’t – because I have no beer (other than the leftover Milwaukee’s Best Ice that came from I’m not sure where that’s been in the back of the fridge; but what am I gonna do with like five of those other than give myself a headache tomorrow morning and dehydration tomorrow afternoon in the stupid 100 degree weather) and also I left my Tejas record at someone else’s house in a giant milk crate full of all my great redneck hippie anthemic records; I need to get that shit back, and it needs to cool the fuck down so I can sit outside at the picnic table again with a speaker leaning out the kitchen window