Thursday is having a helluva weird one...

Not a great one, not a shit one either.

In these moments of exceptional weirdness, only one thing will suffice: The Cramps...

Bikini Girls With Machine Guns...

 Another classic.

.d.s

Wednesday Insomnia Breeds Misfits...

Went to Huggo's last night: Easily my favorite upscale restaurant here in Kona (although if you want to drive to Mauna Lani or Waikoloa, there are some serious restaurants up there...including a very nice Ruths' Chris near the Kings' Shops).

Anyway, stuffed myself on Kona Brewing Co. Fire Rock Pale Ale, Lobster cakes w/Aioli, NY Strip, potatoes, asparagus (and filched a lil' of Monkaygirl's Taste of the Islands Linguine). So came back in a food coma...likely drunk...and crashed at 9:00.

Lo and behold, ten til three and what happens? Wide. The Fuck. Awake. Not like I have to make a 5 hour round trip drive or anything today, then get back and write a brief...not to mention it's humpday. If I survive today, raise a glass in my honor, cuz I'll probably be drunk by noon.

On with the show: Today's selection features a lil' band you've probably heard of...they adorn the denim jackets of punks and metal heads, and have for almost three decades. You can see the iconic logo just up above (feel free to 'Apple click-Save as'). But, we're not gonna' do the newer stuff. Nope we're going back to the OG...Glen Fucking Danzig.  Runty powerbroker of trash metal, and progenitor of the "devil lock" haircut (of which, your's truly once rocked).

Last Caress...it's a classic.

You are welcome.

-d.s.

 

Tuesday's got some work today...

So, sing along, shall we, and watch our pitiful fucking economy collapse around us. We were the first fiscal casualties...I don't believe that we will be the last.

So good, it deserve the lyrics

Yeh, this one's for the workers who toil night and day
By hand and by brain to earn your pay
Who for centuries long past for no more than your bread
Have bled for your countries and counted your dead

In the factories and mills, in the shipyards and mines
We've often been told to keep up with the times
For our skills are not needed, they've streamlined the job
And with sliderule and stopwatch our pride they have robbed

[Chorus:]
We're the first ones to starve, we're the first ones to die
The first ones in line for that pie-in-the-sky
And we're always the last when the cream is shared out
For the worker is working when the fat cat's about

And when the sky darkens and the prospect is war
Who's given a gun and then pushed to the fore
And expected to die for the land of our birth
Though we've never owned one lousy handful of earth?

[Chorus x3]

All of these things the worker has done
From tilling the fields to carrying the gun
We've been yoked to the plough since time first began
And always expected to carry the can

Monday didn't walk away...

Speaking of which, can you friggin' believe the Dropkick Murphys were on Conan? I really want to see these guys live, but I'll bet they are dreadful.


Still, great song.

Even punks grow old and grow up.

-d.s. 

Wednesday wants to know...

..when did this week become a car crash? A slow-rolling, unavoidable crash?

I suppose the better question, really, is not when but how? Be that as it may, it's upon us, and needs to be met like virginal sex: straight on, with little foreplay, and much trepidation.

 Any chance I can get to post this picture, I will...

Speaking of crashes, let the inimitable Patricia Day tell you about cars, and a particular stretch of Highway 55, where the ladies go to disappear, in more ways than one...

Lyrics go now...

On Highway 55,
Six feet under,
Where no one can find her,
By Milestone 91,
A few feet from the road,
The desert running through her,

Lucille was a pretty girl,
A little Nevada pearl,
Black hair framing her face,
A little quirky on the world,
Liked Las Vegas City Lights,
Liked to sit up all night,
Needed a little rest on the bench,
And thats where, he found her,

On Highway 55,
Six feet under,
Where no one can find her,
By Milestone 91,
A few feet from the road,
The desert running through her,

In her little summer dress,
She was put to rest,
Where the sand blows hard,
Under distant stars,
Pale hand lays above ground,
Beauty to be found,
So many lives pass by,
Never seeing Lucille,

On Highway 55,
Six feet under,
Where no one can find her,
By Milestone 91,
A few feet from the road,
The desert running through her,

By red tail lights
He dug her down,
And the sand rushed,
Over sweet Lucille's chest,
In the pale moon light,
Still a pretty sight,
Lucille,
Lucille,
Oh; Lucille

On Highway 55,
Six feet under,
Where no one can find her,
By Milestone 91,
A few feet from the road,
The desert running through her,

By red tail lights,
He dug her down,
Lucille,
Lucille,
Oh; Lucille

On Highway 55,
Six feet under,
Where no one can find her,
By milestone 91,
A few feet from the road,
The desert running through her,

Oh; Lucille.

A New Year...

Hope it's a good one for you and your'n. Let's get Monday off to a good start: Later today, we say goodbye to an old friend, and an icon, but let's not let that bum us out just yet, shall we?

NYC's own Baghdaddio's performing the standard.

I miss live music, terribly.

-d.s.

Merry Christmas/Happy Saturnalia

From Der Schatten and the Fetching Frau Schatten, Merry Christmas: Like I said a few days ago, belief or proper denomination is not required to enjoy a paid State and Federal holiday; to eat well; to visit with family and friends, and just generally to enjoy the company of loved ones. (And presents...don't forget, everyone likes getting new shit!).


See you boils and ghouls in a few days, until then, let's have some punk mood music as you tuck into that first glass of booze and watch "A Christmas Story" for the fourth time today.

The Vandals' 1996 Christmas Classic "Oi to the World", with the title track for you...

Give back to the one who's always been there for you: "Christmas Time For My Penis"

"Grandpa's Last Christmas": Be nice; they'll soon be dead.

-d.s.

Saturday has a weird feeling...

While my odd sense of today is not as strange as Green Jello, this band is, and remains, one of the weirdest bands ever. Enjoy the unique rendition of "Three Little Pigs".

.

Thursday is moonstruck

Full moons and new moons always screw with my -already negligible- sleep. Not sure why. I think I'm just exceptionally sensitive to tidal flows and seismic events (when we had a 3.3. earthquake, 300 miles away, all night I felt weird and couldn't sleep). I don't think it's uncommon. For instance, Lux Interior, in the Cramp's confessional I was a teenage werewolf apparently has similar problems.

Show proper deference to the legendary Cramps. It is very safe to say that without the duo of Lux Interior and Poison Ivy, the current pyschobilly trend would not even exist.

Requiem Aeternum, Lux.

 

You had to know, upon mentioning psychobilly, that I would give you a bonus Patricia Day picture. Viva Horrorpops!

.

 

Friday ends your Miss Takes

Copenhagen's "Horrorpops"; a punk-pychobilly amalgam that remains, to this day, the Monkey's favorite band. Miss Take is probably their most "famous" track, and certainly one of their sexiest videos (also check out "Horror Beach Part II" for the perfect pulp video). While this is not my favorite track by the 'Pops, I would do some naughty, naughty shit to Patricia Day...

.

Monday has a Six Pack and $35 to its name...

So, after yesterday's Henry Rollins rant, nothing would do except hunt down the entire "Henry Rollins Uncut in NYC" concert. Stayed up till almost 1:00 a.m. drinking gin and juice and laughing my ass off. On a more (only slightly more musical note), here are the Black Flag lads doing what they did best back in the early 80s....wreck shit, and be boozy

Lyrics go now:

Thirty-five dollars and a six pack to my name
Six-pack!
Spent the rest on beer so who's to blame
Six-pack!
They say I'm fucked up all the time
Six pack!
What they do is a waste of time
Six pack!

I know it'll be o.k.
I get a six pack in me, alright!

My girl friend asks me which one I like better
Six pack!
I hope the answer won't upset her
Six pack!
I was born with a bottle in my mouth
Six pack!
Now I got a six so I'll never run out
Six pack!

I know it'll be o.k.
I got a six pack in me alright!

Thirty-five dollars and a six pack to my name
Six-pack!
Spent the rest on beer so who's to blame
Six-pack!
They say I'm fucked up all the time
Six pack!
What they do is a waste of time
Six pack!

Six pack!
Six pack!
Six pack!  

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