Hey, schmuck, keep it up. We eat bagel brains like you for breakfast with a schmeer.
“…and don’t talk back to me…”
Don’t talk back to me?
Don’t talk back to me?
DON’T TALK BACK TO ME?
This is New York, numbnuts. Not. Fucking. Phoenix. We goddamn invented back talk. Talking smack is hardwired into our DNA. Your first day in town and you try to get tough with a fucking cameraman? Has anybody even explained the Bleacher Creatures to you yet? Or what kind of a beating The Lip is gonna now consider it his sworn duty to rain down on you every chance he gets? I won’t even get into how the nutbags at the Post are gonna kick your ass, win or lose, all fucking year after a stunt like this. Their reporters and photographers are, as I write this, deciding which one of them is gonna push your button hard enough to draw the punch.
You haven’t been officially wheeled out wearing Pinstripes yet, and you’re already ahead of Kevin Brown on the Piece of Shit list. If it wasn’t for RhoidBoy, you’d be Number One.
Limp Bizkit Choo Choo (download of the day)
Tonight’s selection comes from Richard Cheese and Lounge Against the Machine. I discovered Mr. Cheese through his amazing cover of Disturbed’s Down With The Sickness featured in the movie Dawn Of The Dead. His lounge singer remakes of hard rock…
[...] Right. We remember the dumbfuck’s intro to Fun City. Go get cancer and die in a fire. [...]