Many years ago I was watching this movie about a war (and I have no idea what it was, so please tell me if you do), where a firefight broke out on the ground between US troops and whoever the enemy was. While the majority of the US troops advanced on the enemy and risked their lives in the battle, this one dude panicked and was like "Fuck this!," and ran the other direction and hid in a fox hole until the gunfire stopped ringing out. At first, the other troops didn't know what he did, but eventually they were on to him, and he was eventually exposed for being a "coward." I really felt empathy for that guy, because that would've been me during a war. I'd of been the "Fuck this!" guy who ran the other way and hid. I felt bad when the others found out what he did. He was just scared. Is that so wrong? A bunch of people he didn't know were shooting machine guns at him for what was very likely a stupid cause. If not wanting to die in the name of such an abstract concept as "Patriotism" is wrong, call me Mr. Wrong. I understand about standing by your friends - that's why I think it would be a good idea for ALL of us underprivileged 20-year olds from rural Nebraska to be like "Fuck this!," and run the other way. Do you think those rich people who put us up to this would risk their lives? Fuck them, and fuck this. They tricked us into this, and now we're getting the fuck out of here. It reminds me of an incident that took place when I was at 6th grade camp. The teachers wanted us students to participate in an "Alligator Hunt," which entailed walking waist deep in a river for miles until a stuffed alligator toy was found. I wasn't a very good swimmer, and I was a short kid, so I was concerned "waist deep" would mean "neck deep" for me. When I got to the edge of the river to go in, I said "Fuck this, I'm not doing it." My cabin partner/friend didn't want to do it either, but he eventually and very gingerly walked in and disappeared down the river. That to me is more cowardly, thank you very much. He was too chickenshit to turn away. So while all those other kids ended up filthy and freezing, me and a few other geeks ended up dry and happy back at the cabin. So let that be a lesson to you kids, it's important to learn the value of "Fuck this!," because fuck them.
Here's a new demo called Bill and Hillary Clinton Making Out in a Hot Tub Filled With Poop and Pee. It kind of happened organically. That picture there was just good fortune. Download! ---> Bill and Hillary Clinton Making Out in a Hot Tub Filled With Poop and Pee
While washing my crotch in the shower this afternoon, it occurred to me that it's been 15 years since The Electric Grandmother was conceived. What started off as a solo home recording project has turned into a world famous husband-wife musical duo. It was December 1999 when I made the first Electric Grandmother tape called "Groovin' on the Jack Move," named after a phrased muttered by the late great Wesley Willis. (Selections from that tape as well as others made through 2002 are available to hear here). Since we started Electric Grandmother as a live act in 2004, I can honestly say that the best part of it all has been all the awesome friends we've made over the years. We're some of the luckiest damn people in the world. That's all that really matters, it's far greater than the American Music Awards we've received. One of the most important things I've learned over the years is how important it is to treat other people kindly. The underground music scene is not the socialist-utopia I presumed it was in my early 20's, it's a lot like high school: People grappling for position, wanting to be more important than others, trying to fill a void in themselves by putting people down. I tell you this my friends - the cynics will always lose, because like the rest of us, they won't be here one day. We haven't got time to be opportunistic at the expense of others, because we don't live forever. That's another important thing I've learned. Be excellent to each other. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_yJFLvmjJY[/embed]
It occurred to me recently that I've pretty much mastered the art of dealing with collection agencies. To be fair, I'm not referring to overdue credit card balances, or anything else that potentially would harm you long term. I'm talking about instances where you haven't been actually charged by your bank and had a credit deposit, I'm talking about instances where you basically owe money in theory. To use an old example, the now defunct Columbia House Record Club and their "12 CDs for a penny" deal. You signed an agreement to buy CDs later at full price, but you hadn't actually been charged anything. So here now are Pete's tips for beating a collection agency: Tip #1: You don't owe the Collection Agency fucking shit Collection agencies are hired by the company you owe money to. Those inflated bills that they mail you/call you about includes their fee they've added in, because that's the amount they are charging the company for their services, and so it follows that the company that hired them wants you to foot the bill. If you choose to pay the company anything, pay them directly and ignore the collection agency notices. Once that happens, the notices will stop coming, because you personally don't owe the collection agencies fucking shit. Tip #2: You can wait out the calls, and they'll eventually stop It used to be that a collection agency could call you at home 15 times a day to collect, which would result in more bills being paid to avoid nervous breakdowns. Nowadays with cell phones being the norm, you can see who's calling you and choose to not pick up the phone. Oh, they'll still call you 15 times a day, and on top of it they'll call using different phone numbers. I found a relatively simple solution: Label all the unknown numbers you get, so they're easier to ignore. I had a list of "Jerks #1-#7" on my phone, many of which who have been trying to collect for several years now. Instead of furrowing my brow at an unrecognized number, I got the satisfaction of seeing the word "Jerks" show up on my caller ID every time one of those jerks called. So hang tight on that $400 bill from 2004 that you owe the Ohio State Medical Center, they'll eventually wear themselves out and stop calling. Tip #3: Read this article I found, which sums some things up nicely: http://www.debt.org/credit/collection-agencies/secrets/ Tip #4: Check this Love in An Escalator outtake, from 2010. (The song eventually became what is known as "Reagan's Got the Bomb." Collection Agency <---- Click here Lyriques: I won’t pay, kiss my ass I’ll just sit at home and laugh You’ll just have to take a bath On what you say I owe I won’t pay a bit For this made up shit Get your records straight And get the fuck off of my phone Tip #5: Fuck the collection agencies, they're a bunch of wimps, stay strong, you can do it
This teacher I had in middle school used to call me "Fogsville," because I always looked spaced out. What an awful person she was.
This is the story of how Madonna went from being a dishwasher in Brooklyn to arguably the biggest star in the world. It all started with a dream, a dream that was realized when her manager saw her perform at a talent show. The message is to never give up, because Madonna was once just like you. Your dreams won't chase themselves. Download now!-->>Madonna Was Once Just Like You
Here's a demo of a new song called The Bodyguard. It's from the perspective of the woman, who is trying to come to terms with letting the Bodyguard go. She knows that they are not good for each other, and that the Bodyguard has acted far too selflessly towards her, and that the Bodyguard needs to put himself first for once. Also, she notes that "I won't run to you anyway," indicating that any effort on his part would be in vain. Download now! ----->>>> The Bodyguard
As many of you know, I was raised in a Baptist family. From the time I was born until I was about 16, I went to church with my family every Sunday. We went to three different churches during that time; A church in Cleveland, a second church in Twinsburg, and a third church in my hometown of Aurora, Ohio. During this time, I saw and heard some crazy things. Electric Grandmother Inc., in cooperation with Sitcom-Core Co., is proud to present TALES FROM CHURCH. CLEVELAND: 1978-1984(?) This is obviously the foggiest era with the least amount of available detail. - Believe it or not, one of my most vivid memories of going to church in Cleveland was looking into the church nursery and seeing this little boy sticking his poop covered butt in the air while some woman wiped it. His name was Alex, and the poop smelled horribly. It was probably the most revolting thing I had ever seen up to that point. Later that day, I saw the boy running around while his dad chased and called out to him, "Alex...Alex..." It looked like he still had poop in his pants. - Once we were at the church for a night gathering, and this teenage boy was whirling around this paper cut-out of a bee attached to a string. It made a bee-buzzing sound while he whirled it, and it was outstanding. I asked him to keep doing it over and over, and he kept saying "Mmm-K!" - My favorite hymn was Holy, Holy, Holy, because I thought it was really loud and intense.
If I ever again see a bigger kid bullying a smaller kid, I'm going to intervene and convince the bully that I'm the little kid from the future, and that I came back to kick the crap out of him. I haven't seen a kid being bullied as of late, it was just a thought I had.
Girl Meets World made it's debut last night on the Disney Channel, and it sucked. First of all, I don't know who the heck those two little girls were. I hated them. Cory and Topanga weren't on the show enough, and there weren't enough jokes. Everything moved really fast, because that's how kids today think. I wanted to kill them. There was a boy who was supposed to be Minkus. I hated his guts. There was a hunky boy that was supposed to be Shaun, and I even hated him. You can't go home again, Martha. I wish they were dead. I don't know why they didn't try harder. Does it hurt to try? I don't know, maybe it does. Maybe this was their best try, and this was the best they could do. I don't why there is so much hate in the world. I'm not certain why there are wars, disease, and famine, it's just a part of life we have to accept. I don't know why some people seemingly have to suffer their whole lives, while others are tremendously fortunate. I think those of us who are fortunate should really appreciate what we have, because others aren't so lucky. We should also make a point to reach out to those who are suffering, and offer gentle compassion. Only when we offer compassion to others will we begin to offer compassion to ourselves, and therein my friends, lies the key.
So the other night, Mary Alice and I were watching the world famous special from 2003 called Living With Michael Jackson, starring Martin Bashir as the interviewer, and Jacko as the interviewee. It was even more strange than we remembered, and if you've never seen it, I pity you. This interview was infamous for implying that Michael Jackson was a dangerous pedo, which although was somewhat of a retread of 1993, refreshed the idea in everyone's mind. For the record, my purely speculative guess is that the guy probably didn't do it, which is totally and completely based on a hunch, and not at all based on any scientific research. Mary Alice and I were laughing at Michael Jackson's pain throughout the evening, and we specifically recalled the 1993 video statement from Neverland Valley (see above photo), and we were trying to approximate what he said in the video, and one of us (I think it was her?) offered "They photographed my penis," in a mocking, high-pitched Michael Jackson voice. The rest, of course, is history. Download/Stream Now! ----->>> They Photographed My Penis
What sucked about faking being sick to leave school early is that you had to keep the ruse up throughout the entire process. For example, you had to fake being sick to get out of class. Then, you had to put on a show for the nurse. Then, you had to sound sick when you called home. Then, you had to act sick while waiting to get picked up. Then, you had to act sick on the way home, and then for the rest of night. Hardly seems worth it in retrospect, unless part of your plan was to stay home the next day, too.
When you get home from church, don't just throw your dress clothes in a heap on the goddamn floor. Hang them up nicely so you can wear them next Sunday.