Pop rulez!!!!!!!!!

For the most part, my musical taste is fairly narrow. Metallica? The greatest band of all time. Back in the "Ride the Lightning/Master of Puppets/...And Justice For All" days, no one could touch them. Not even close. In Flames? The best band on the face of the planet at this time. They never let me down. Brilliant.

...

A Thalia song just came on the Pandora station I'm currently listening to. I tried to understand just a tiny bit of it but failed miserably. I clicked "next." I like music in American, the language of the free, thank you very much.

Anyway, I like metal. A lot. I've loved it for many moons and let's face it, what's more metal than a tall-ass, orangutan-armed, skinny kid from southwest Minnesota? Barely anything because, dude, I wear Iron Maiden shirts. I am so totally not a poser.

But no matter how many bone-boiling and blood-crushing masterpieces of metalli-tude I hear, there's still one thing that makes every fiber of my being coo and purr like some bizarre, science-fiction hybrid of a baby and a cat (I call it a kitten).

Pop music.

Shred Doc #3: Randoom the Destroyer

Ah the classic "mea culpa" post. My recent neglect of The Shred was ridiculous. A missed post here and there, fine. But weeks of nothing? There's really no excuse for that. Especially since I gave my word that I'd update regularly. Apologies all around, Shredders. From now on, I will do my best, my fucking best, to keep The Shred going with writing, videos and maybe *gasp* even a podcast. To anyone that has checked The Shred over the past few weeks and has found nothing but crickets and inches of virtual dust, I am sorry.

So let's rev it up again, huh? Take a gander at the third Shred Doc dubbed Randoom the Destroyer. A bunch of random clips have accumulating over the past month and I stitched them all together in clip show extravaganza. Enjoy!

And yes, Randoom the Destroyer is the greatest title in the history of titles and maybe even fictitious Vikings.

Shred Doc #2: McQuest

One man's journey for delicious and totally nutritious (they're all lying to you!) food.

The next step, a new chapter and other over-dramatic and clichéd titles

+

=

But I'm going to find out.

An open farewell to 2009

Dear 2009,

First of all, stop calling. Seriously. It's not funny or cute. It's bordering on creepy. Especially when you leave those voicemails that are just three minutes of your heavy breathing. And those texts? Look, I don't want to show everyone this but I feel it necessary to get the point across.

You see? That's just embarrassing. And I can't believe you entered your name as "2009 In Da Hizzouse!" It's the new sonofabitchin' decade, 2009. Get with it. Also, you're a total bro. Dial it down a bit.

[Full letter after the jump]

New demo song: False Midas

Here's a rough demo of a little something I whipped up over Christmas.  Enjoy!


PS- The first few seconds are a little quiet.

Machine gun haiku action

I'm feeling deep. Deep like a stereotypical lotus flower painting. Deep like the combination of berets and bongos. Deep like the kind of deep you feel when you stare at Autumn leaves for seven hours, pondering just exactly what life is all about when you finally realize "why the hell am I staring at leaves when I could be rocking out?" because clearly, and maybe the Autumn leaves actually sparked this revelation in the first place, rocking out is what life is all about.


Phew.

Anyway, for the next undetermined amount of time, I'm going to write a haiku about whatever pops into my head. For those not in the know, a haiku is a poem with 17 total syllables- five in the first line, seven in the second and five in the third. So, without further adieu...

It's haiku time, punks.