Thursday, May 14, 2009

The Tyranny of TouchTunes To be Terminated!


Recognize this familiar face? Of course you don't. Because you were too shitty off of 'Jamaican Ass-plows' and 'Red-Headed Yoga Whores' to notice it. But let's say in a small moment of clarity, you can somehow assemble a memory of this glowing beacon of presumed entertainment. Do you remember it with a thick loathing as I do, or did it somehow trick you into thinking that your night together was consensual?

Why is it that I hate the Touch Tunes machine? Why must I crusade against what seems to be a window to some good music?
BECAUSE I'M FUCKING CHEAP AND TOUCHTUNES IS FUCKING BULLSHIT!

Imagine this: You're chilling at a party at your friend's house, knocking back some brews, watching the game and having a general good time when it hits you, "Wait a minute! I'd love to listen to some Billy Squier* right about nowsish!"
Immediately you turn to your host, pry him away from the underage girls that he thinks he's charming (it's called a car asshole, and when they're old enough to drive on their own they'll bail on you for the yacht driving trust fund recipient in his mid thirties), and ask him, "Yo, Mighty Bro Young, mind if I rock some choice cuts of the Squier man?"
Your friend, licking the cherry cola flavored chapstick from his lips turns and says, "No problem chieftain, but it's going to cost you a dollar."
What would you do?
I'd imagine you'd call him a dipshit and then leave. Personally, I think I'd lean in to the (extremely) young ladies he's sassing and say, "Don't believe his bullshit, just because he's not having an outbreak does not mean you can raw-dog it." And then, I'd take his iPod and throw it on the floor next to his dignity and my patience.
Even worse, imagine if you paid the dollar, and instead of putting on your song, he puts on his favorite playlist.
You say, "What the shit dude? I wanna hear Billy Squier"
To which he replies, "Oh yeah, well if you want to hear it next, you've got to give me another dollar."
Let's pretend you haven't killed him yet. Perhaps you rented 'Gandhi' from your local library and are feeling excessively peaceful, so you pay him the money.
FINALLY! SOME SWEET SWEET BILLY SQUIER!
But then no. 'Summer of 69' begins and we're all a bit gayer because of it.
"This isn't my song," you angrily seethe through clenched teeth, "I wanted 'The Stroke' by the Squier-man"
"Sorry Bro Montana, your selection is in a queue of 10, since 10 other people also wanted to hear their song next, you gotta wait. It's only fair"
Naturally, this friend would come home from work the next day to find his house reduced to a pile of ashes, and me standing on top urinating on the charred remains of his iPod dock.
I feel my actions would be understandable.
Yet every time I go to the bar, I get drunk and then I feed my hard earned dough into a machine to possibly hear a song that is available for free in my very own jukebox that I call my iPod. I feel that I'm not alone. When I'm drunk and its time to see sweat comin' out my pores, I turn to TouchTunes to give me my fix of MarkyMark. When I see that girl looking across the bar at me, presumably with an inclination to bang me, and it's MY job to set the mood, I turn to TouchTunes to enrich my night with some 'Cutting Crew'.
In a given night, I can piss away 10 bucks cash-money on songs that I may never hear, in the hopes that when it comes on someone will say,"YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAHHH!" and I'll stand up and say, "I picked this shit! You are SO welcome!"

Well today, I'm done! Fuck that! Never again am I putting my dead presidents into what is essentially an automated beggar with a shit-ton of music knowledge.
Where will my booze-time entertainment come from, you ask? Simple. I'm goin old-school. From now on, I will fight the omnipresent TouchTunes temptation, by bringing back the lost art of "The Drunken Sing-along". Best part about a DS-A? No one needs to know the words. Just emote to the rhythm and everybody wins. Unless everyone sings Bon Jovi. Then nobody wins. Because Bon Jovi sucks ass and apparently models his hair after Jennifer Aniston. Like a fag would. Cuz he's a total fag.

Heres a fun game, Dear Readers. Try to name the albums on the TouchTunes in the picture. I can pick out 4. Bottom right "Elephant-The White Stripes". Directly above that, we have "The Blue Album- Weezer" followed in the bottom left by "The Green Album- Weezer" Also, second in from top-left we can clearly see the The Wallflowers' first (only?) album. I can't recognize any others, but assuming that this is a page of W bands, I'm sure we can figure out the rest.
Peace out knockuhs!

*Squier is how I spell it. It may be 'Squire' but I don't know nor do I care. If you do know and want to correct me, it means that you're a loser.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Welcome to my blog!

Holy shit! The time has arrived! Today is a day much heralded in the annals of American lore. For today is the day that I, Dan Scully, have finally realized that I too, can pretend to be as important as every other blogger thinks he/she is. I too, can share pointless ramblings with an audience that I pretend exists! I too, can channel raw emotion through my fingers into words describing what it feels like to be an outcast, despite the fact that I can easily find friends at Hot Topic (or Torrid if you're a fatty). I will now have a chance to follow in the footsteps of the cyber trail-blazers who came before me by relating song lyrics to the trials and tribulations my tortured existence. I can mock celebrities. I can piss on religion. I can laud religion. I can give meaningless high school sports updates for the Conkerville Sand Alligators All-Lesbian softball team. I guess what I'm saying is I can now do anything that anyone has ever done in a blog, only better. Why is it better? Because it's ME, stupid. And I'm the best. However...YOU, Dear Reader, must be controlled.
I want COMMENTS
BUT! There's a few ground rules:
1. Don't think that I care about your opinion...cuz it's wrong.
2. Don't ever say anything about my momma!
3. Don't knock The White Stripes
And most importantly:
4. Have fun and don't touch anything that looks like it could be easily broken.

I'll be back when I find something pertinent to write about. Be there or be gay!