Sunday, May 2, 2010

TV Party

The following is dedicated to my attorney, Juan Perez.

Saugus, MA, 6:14pm:

What’s up, buddy? Good to see ya, you old cock. It’s about fackin’ time, too. Ya hit the packy on the way over? Nice! What’s that? Oh, don’t mind ol’ Francis ovah theah. He just heard Soundgahden got back togethah. Yeah, yeah, he’s fackin’ psyched. Plus, he just ate like three king-size Buttahfingahs. I heah ya, though. Yeah, I have no idea what happened to Chris Cawnell. That Jimmy Bond song is gayuh than a P-town Ahts Festival at midnight, but that doesn’t explain Audioslave, does it? Or that thing with Kanye West or whatevah. Oh, Timbaland. Right.

But look, I know that’s not why ya heah. Business to attend to and all that. Heah’s the thing, though: Ma’s at bingo tonight. Yeah, yeah, three Wednesdees in a row now. It must be that second cuppa coffee she’s been havin’ in the aftahnoons or whatevah. I didn’t mention that ovah the phone? That she wasn’t gonna be heah, I mean? Shit, I’m sorry, dood. I coulda swoan I told ya that. But look, if you wanna hang out and watch Hahd N’ Heavy videos with us, it’s totally cool. Francis! Fack, Francis, man—move over, for fack’s sake. Randy’s gonna hang out.

You see that Dave Ellefson’s back in Megadeth? I know, right? Prolly won’t mattah much, but Dave without Dave is like Simon without… what’s that other dood’s name? The old guy with the weeahd lookin’ squash? Here’s to you, Missus Robinson, or whatevah? Yeah, yeah, Dustin Hoffman. That’s the dood. Oh, wow. Look at this shit right heah. Diamond Dave, “A Little Ain’t Enough.” Fackin’ classic song right theah, guy. Not as neahly as killah as “Drop Dead Legs” but it kicks the shit out of Sammy Hagah amiright?

Aw, dooood … look at this now. Why they always gotta roon these things with Damn Yankees? Just watchin’ Ted Nugent talk makes my tits hurt. Oh, shit! He just called those othah doods fags, though. Turn it up? Why? Do you think it’ll help? Oh, now this… this is what I’m talkin’ about. Suicidal fackin’ Tendencies. You. Can’t. Bring. Me. Down. You can’t bring me down! This shit makes me wanna cry and punch things at the same time. While weahring my khaki shohts and white tube socks jacked up to my fackin’ knees, a’ couahse.

Oh, check out this intahview with the Scorpions doods. Hallo, vee ah Scorpions! I love these doods, guy. Klaus Meine’s head should have its own talk show. They’ah gonna show the “Rhythm Of Love” video next. So facking good. Yeah, this is the second time we’ve watched this one today. What? No, I heah ya, I heah ya. Big Daddy needs to get paid. I know. She should be home any minute now. Aw, Francis! How many times I gotta tell ya yuh gonna go blind if ya don’t stop doin’ that? Put it away, bro—we got company!

Wait, I think I heah Ma comin’ up the driveway. Sit tight for a second; I gotta help 'uh with the groceries. She’s prolly hadda coupla pops, too. You know how it is down the Knights a’ Columbus. Buncha sea hags bitchin’ about Social Security and the price a’ Pahliament Lights down Cumby’s. Oh, fack. It looks like she mighta hit sumthin’ on the way home. Ma! Ma, what happened to the Capri? Are you fackin’ serious? I’ll put my fackin’ foot up his fackin’ ass! Okay, fine. Tomorrah, then. Look, Ma, Randy’s heah. Yeah, I need eleven bucks, okay? C’mon, Ma. Don’t be like that. I sweah I’ll pay ya back. Thanks, Ma. Love ya. Yeah, yeah, I’ll send Francis out right now. What? No, no, I didn’t give him any candy a’ nuthin’ like that, Ma. You know I know bettah than that.

This bullshit originally appeared in the May 2010 issue of Decibel magazine.