My Sister, The Tramp

It has come to my attention that a lot of the ‘search engine’ terms that lead to this site relate to my sweet sister, Kimba. Obviously, we need more of her on here. Enjoy.

The Night Before Gay Parisian Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house

Gay Paris were drinking, but not passing out;

The booze was all lined up on the mantle with care,

Cuz eight bitches would soon be ‘ right up in here’;

Slim Pickins was dancing, both poppin’ and locks,

Cuz Slim is a B-Boy that loves to up-rock;

And with his bandanna on under his hat,

WH busted, the illest of raps,

Then from the kitchen, there came a great clatter
Smokin’ D emerged with a gourmet style platter.

“Quiet down, you bastards,” cried out Blacktooth,

“I’m watching Christmas Vacation, National Lampoons!”

The hos all arrived and exposed their large breasts

Belly shots of whiskey are what happened next,

And every one laughed and they drank and they ate,

Even Miss BZ, who showed up so late,

Driving a Benz right through the window,

With K. ‘Whoremouth’ Conroy and some powder like snow ,

Oh what a Christmas, Oh Lord, what a ruckus!,

They chanted ‘Wu-Tang ain’t nothin’ to fuck wit!’ ;

“Now, Hot Dick! Now, Slim! now, Blacktooth, WH!

When you throw a party we know they’ll be great!”

To the top it all of, they paid for the whores!

And drove away quickly, distracting the cops,

Who had recently received, an anonymous tip,

Most likely the Snowdroppers, who felt they’d been dissed,

Gay Paris though, had sent invitations,

Intercepted by Tenderloins, who had trepidations,

Of partaking in pleasures that veer to excess

They kept them at home, tucked up in their beds.

GP raised their glasses and drank it all down,

When down their Chimney came a wonderful sound.

Dressed like the 20s had never quite finished,

The ‘droppers arrived crying ‘Yo! Now we up in this!’;

A bundle of booze was strapped to their backs,

And Cougar and London were so high on crack!

Johnny and Pauly, were tell tale gin drinkers;

Their noses so pink, like prostitute nipples!

The guys partied down with their hookers and blow,

With beer, wine and spirits, did I mention the hos?

They all got crunk and down like South West,

Slim battled Cougar and came out the best;

Johnny and WH talked of some books,

But in between notes, they did bourbon shots.

Blacktooth and Pauly were so busy riffing,

They never realised the fun they were missing!

London and Hot Dick were mixing bad drinks,

And drinking them down before they could think;

Then God appeared and spoke of his works,

But WH said, “bitch, I’ll battle you, jerk”;

And running his hand up the face of a ho,

He smote God with fury and the dopest of flows;

YHWH, Adonai, Jehovah and Christ,

You created the world? Nah, but what what about science?

The Devil appeared and tried to make nice,

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”

The Only Good Abbott Is RZA

PrinceRakeemfoPrimeminister

Ah, the Catholic Church – is that wine or blood on your vestments? Really, they both wash out, right? Not like the taste that a certain Mr. Abbott is leaving in my mouth, hell, bring ME the wine, Australia, let’s commiserate that for some reason, a lot of people over here think that this dude is a viable leader for the nation – the only Abbott I have any time for is one Robert Diggs aka Bobby Digital, The Abbott, The RZA!
When Tony gets with a tight ass clique and goes all out, dropping pearls of wisdom over Kung-fu samples, maybe I’ll give him the time of day – but not my vote.
I know that we have a freedom of religion and speech here, but don’t we have a little something like Separation Between Church & State? Nah, not good enough for T.A. (shit, T& A should equal tits and ass, not terribly antiquated). Compulsory Christian Studies for school students in State schools? Righteous? Well, as a matter of my own interest, this would have been dope, but the compulsory aspect makes it seem like dude is trying to create some kind of holy empire – what next, Australia re-does the Crusades? Well, at least beards and shaved heads will be back in, as well as rapine and murder in the name of YWHW.
Really, dude calls his homeboy, one Jesuit priest and to paraphrase, is all; “word life, son, I gotta go for this PM thing, drop some knowledge to Hashem for me,”
And such is the hubris of his one time mentor (and apparently greatest male influence in TA’s life) that it is inferred that the great man(?) of Heaven can’t say no to his mortal servants? Makes sense, right?
If we’re going to be expected to believe these ghost stories, please, assholes, make them consistent.
If dude is going to run so much game about the benefits of his chosen faith ( free will, it makes you morally culpable, remember that shit), then why is Money letting on that the ‘poor will always be with us’ and that there is little that the government can do for the homeless – yes, we have the poor and homeless, it’s a tough situation, let’s give it up. Christian mercy. What makes it worse is that dude is quoting Jesus. Now, I don’t have to believe in water walking and wine based thaumaturgy (though I would dearly love to witness these miracles), to believe in the more merciful qualities put forward in the new testament. Abbott is using the merciful words of J the C to defend a less than humane view on the housing crisis in Australia. This isn’t the dark ages, we have enough money to go to war, we have enough money to give government sponsorship to sporting events that equate to international masturbation and jingoism promoting competition – so why not help these cats out?
With the multiple causes of homelessness being a huge factor in the moving from not having a house to being part of a ‘homeless culture,’ dudes like Abbott throw out shit like “it’s a choice…” Luckily we have a choice too – Don’t vote for this dude.
Let’s abandon medical research that can save lives, let’s all marry and have 2 or 3 kids (sorry, gay people, you’re not included and in a few years, we’ll probably see you in shock therapy or some other medieval shit) – oh and don’t worry, when you’re married and it turns out your spouse is a violent drunk or habitual practitioner of adultery, you’ll only have to wait five years to apply for a divorce. Solid.
Really, I don’t love Gillard, but in a two party preferred system, I know that I’d prefer a soulless atheist with no fashion sense than a bible thumping asshole.

Stay cool
Much Love
WH

KNOW WHERE I CAN GET SOME GOOD GEAR ‘ROUND HERE?

Orphans Of Blacktooth's Spite?

 

He doesn’t know why. All he knows is that he needs more of it. Badly. From Gay Paris HQ, Old Blacktooth talks openly of his never-ending quest for the ultimate tone, those that got away and the trail of broken, unloved refuse left in his wake.

This weeks starting line-up

Electro Harmonix POG2, MXR Zakk Wylde Overdrive, BOSS DD5 Delay and Hughes and Kettner Red Box

Rookies

Electro Harmonix POG2, Dyna Comp Compressor, Hughes and Kettner Red Box Three

On the bench:

MXR Dyna Comp Compressor, Hagstrom Viking Deluxe (white), Fender Fuzzwah, Marshal DSL 2000, Fender Hot Rod Deluxe + Extension Cabinet.

You’re off the team, asshole

Electro Harmonix POG, Gretsch Duo Jet, Gretsch Malcolm Young

In the mail:

Tonebone Switchbone

Eyeing off:

Fender Jim Adkins Signature Telecaster

Let’s preface this by saying: just plug your guitar into an amp and it’ll sound good. This kind of fucking around is a silly business for compulsive morons like myself and a lot of effort for small returns. It’s nerdy and mostly pointless, so read on with caution.

Most people are secretive about this stuff but really, who cares? Sound tricks are fun to talk about. And hey, it beats sitting on the couch and spanking it to Big Brother or collecting model trains or whatever it is healthy people do. I don’t collect gear; I constantly swap it. At some point in my life I had enough money to buy a pair of guitars and an amp and ever since then I’ve been circulating that same cash around switching out different junk. So I’m not a Richie Rich or Steve Vai – I just like how stuff sounds (you can buy me a Bad Cat or neon green cape though if you want to). Maybe one day I’ll get settle down with what I’m playing, but where’s the fun in that? There’s nothing like discovering a new way to melt your own face off or to disappoint, annoy or excite your band mates. Anyways, this brings us to Episode One of my contribution to this blog, a look at screwing around with gear in rehearsal, in the studio and on the road.

THIS WEEK’S STARTING LINE UP

This week I’m trying to keep it practical (as opposed to the two rig wank-a-thon I’m usually carting around). We’re heading to Adelaide to play with Coerce, one hell of a band featuring old pals of ours from that sweet flat city. We’ll be borrowing their awesome amps when we land, so I’m currently fussing about trying to get a piece of carpet for a makeshift Velcro pedalboard for the run. My Fuzzwah is too heavy for the plane (as is the regular board), so I’ll have to play my two “wah” parts in Surgeon and Skyship as best I can (look for lots of feedback and pointing). This is the first time I’ll be taking my new POG2 out for a run and my god is it a life changing little box.

Because you can make presets for it I currently have five settings on the go:

MORELLO-IAN OCTAVE BONANZA – Simple heavy octave below, touch of

octave above – subtle but thick. This is for the big grindy bits at the end of Behold! The Pale Surgeon and the default setting I’ll head to for most single note riff outs.

WANNA SEE MY ORGAN – This has a touch of two octaves above, as well as the detune function for beefing up chords. This is my main setting for the choruses of Deadrie Fell’s Dog Park Blues.

SHRILL BURGERS – Octave above and two octaves above combined subtly for a nice solo boost. I’m looking to kick this off in the “solos” in My First Wife She Was a Fox Queen.

GARBAGETRUCK FULL OF RATBALLS – One octave below plus two octaves below plus attack and LP filter to the max. I’m gonna kick this in for the final parts of Skyship…if they let me. It’s one of those things where you can take over your entire band with, which is not necessarily a good idea.

AN ORGAN SO SMALL YOU CAN’T QUITE SEE IT – A hint of everything this pedal can do…but only a hint. This is where I’m gonna cover up my sloppy playing in clean parts by adding a touch of The Addams Family to it all. Probably won’t fly at rehearsal though.

In Adelaide, I’m gonna try out this Hughes and Kettner Red Box Mk111 I bought on eBay this week. It’s a speaker emulator/DI – basically takes the fear out of letting the work experience kid mike up your shit. It has a setting where you can choose either 4×12 cab or a combo and goes between your head and a box (you just need two speaker leads) and the direct signal can then be put through the P.A. Preliminary fuck arounds suggest it’s a good option but this will be an interesting test. Anyways, I’ll be back soon to elaborate on how it all went down and talk shit about the new stuff I have on order. Til then, I pray nobody pours beer in my f-holes (damn Melbournites).