Roach Clip
im dyslexic with autistic demons
my pants run red with lucifer’s tears
you gotta pick your battles
and this here’s my waterloo
i lap from the
pool of septic reason
i crawl ‘neath the lowest rung
the concierge is stricken with dwarfism
and the prisons run over with presbyterian cysts
we’ve fallen
the axe we sharpen
blades and tongues
traipse in the penal colony
you’ve erected in your pants
Lester is Balding
west of our divide
the river runs plaid
and hey, do you ever talk
to that sonofabitch with agnostic leanings
who passes the doochee down the lefthand side?
the jewels of your crown
overriden with herpal fear
treason is your tunic
your boyfriend will die by my hand
this—your trifecta sans part un and deux
yer guess is as bad as mine
my finger on your troix
ill see you on the dark side
cos protestants never sleep
Separate Waves
im one hell of a liar
but ill tell you one thing
there’s at least 10 things i told the truth about
as far as your step momma knows
maybe you and i have gone as we can (go)
time for a reprieve, time for a break
cuz this here thirst only cheap trick can slake
and maybe your brownies are finally ready to be baked
it’s the balls, shaft, and the pussy’s wrath
losin track of what im trying to say
we know major tom is a junk-ay
fuck it, let’s go our separate ways
if tupac were here, what would he say?
fuck it, let’s go our separate ways
i think i love you but you said you’re gay
fuck it, let’s go our separate ways
if hate were a ship you’d be the poseidon adventure
last, same as first, let’s go our separate ways
let’s go baby, our muthafuckin separate ways
Best Seller
i could kill your ass
and burn your head over a southern bridge
hang your belly button from a tree
itd be a best seller
i could tell the truth about the government
they dont care
just having fun
itd be a best seller
and i could tell the truth about aliens
and how two grams will get your killed
itd be a best seller
best seller
best seller
i could write a best seller
baby, i could write a best seller
dont you ever wish
you could be in a movie credit list
frm a made-for-TV movie
about you and me?
baby, baby, we could be a best seller
let me take you to laser rush
(i think i et at home)
there are three things a man’s got to learn
while he’s waiting for his father to die
or his woman to leave
whichever comes first
like his guts rotting
there’s a first time for everything
believing youre a winner
just doesnt make it so
was here at 1 am last time
and i dont remember any goddamned grand prize
she’s the perfect woman
no questions asked
but i ordered about two hours ago
and by now the shakes are slowing down
so maybe we should skip the drink
and just talk
about what the fuck
you were really made for
(what were you made for?)
we just need a name for it now
part II of the historical dirge trilogy
soon as i get hold of this one,
it’s goin down
ive heard that before
we dont need that shit
we’re lo-fi
go ape shit
this here samba
she’ll make you rumba
no watergate references here
so take the teapot dome
caligula’s got call waiting
forget that fucking dreyfuss affair
youre a $1000 waitress but a $30 whore
calm down a little baby
big jim’s been here before
put the jew behind the pig
and the pig behind the creep
no one will ever know you suck
let me get some sleep
some fat guy named vance
got his hands on some cuban loose-fittin pants
aint no pigs at this bay, bitch
i got 1812, so forget the pardon
thanks anyway, gerald
dean’s ready to stool your ass to heaven
alderman’s doin pat and dick is doin elsberg
poor old limp-dick liddy got nothing but his papers
sorry
i think i made a bad turn back there somewhere
the eunuchs sing in unison
austin, texas follows the tower’s shadow
cashed this one out
the gate wont happen for eight years or so
castrated tapes, blank as a fart
the pentagon aint phallic, so whats the point?
look at it right, though
with the gaping white/green hole
itll remind you of the sex object
ellsberg and nixon plunged withe eat into
let’s talk some hardcore porn
the plumbers are coming soon
god bless my vocal timing
gonna die of a vowel obstruction
and my little lady,
she’s got her final requests
and a cemetary need
do i look tired to you?
why dont we turn the lights on here
last rites for the passive verbs
vulgarity, she breeds contempt
and she told me once
or maybe it was four
that the japanese use two baths
and her mother sleeps on the floor
i need someone to shave my neck
got carded when i bought vaseline
gold bless your macramé daishiki
it keeps out the draft
stumbling a bit now
what the fuck - this aint my house
the maker’s mark flowin like wine ...
absinthe
they call me a dick-sucking fool
down at the bar room
but they dont know the real you
(chorus)
asbsinthe and burnt toast
check the safety let’s make a toast
eggs over easy and buttered toast
pearls of wisdom on calamity jane
pearls of wisdom on calamity jane
licked her hair
combed her soft shell eyes
put on some mac davis
rubbed her between the thighs
they call me those things
but they’ve never been to new orleans
new o-r-l-eans
(repeat chorus)
the saddest song ever written
im sick of you waiting
for me to do something
to make this all get better
and you could touch me
you could always touch me
the best way
i don’t want to tell her
sunshine days without you
hotel rooms & bath tubs
masturbation, back rubs
let’s call it a day
let’s call her today
you dial
ill do all the talking
say i loved her once
and now it’s time for walking
but you just sit there
sit there reading your magazine
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Pimp and Circumstance: The Story of Sandusky (an aborted biography_
The rigors of the road were wearing thin on the perverse troubadours; the endless touring was taking a noticeable toll. Friends and ex-wives decided to intervene. 1999 was a good year for interventions.
Dive was beating on his drum set of the moment—four large doumbecs with a cymbal wrapped in tinfoil and held together with duct tape. Sal had stolen the cymbal from a cheap Sears drum kit and presented it to his friend as a belated wedding present for Dive's short-lived marriage to his second wife, actress Bonnie Franklin.
The walls of Dickwood, the band's new cabin in the "hills" of southern Utah, were shaking from the sound, as the drums were amplified through a high-output PA. The windows had been shattered months before when the band christened Dickwood with a fuzz guitar version of "Bestseller," and local authorities reported a drastic relocation by much of the area's wildlife.
Sal was lying on a couch with a plastic bag over his head to "warm up" his voice, trying to bang his head along with Dive's poly-rhythmic, free-form drum solo. His hair was a newly dyed green—the result of an altercation with some locals. He was becoming emaciated after fasting for eleven days, and still four days left on his task. He was living on what he called "a diet of fresh air, clean water, cigarettes, wine, and Pez."—which he often did within the cabin, until Jonas complained that his dog, Ginger, was getting sick from licking up the goo.
Neither of them heard the cars drive up, nor the passengers who knocked insistently on the door. Sal and Dive were startled, but quickly amused when their friend, Ritchie Sambora, clumsily crawled through one of the always-open windows and fell on his ass, hitting the floor in a spot covered with broken glass. The pair continued laughing until Ritchie said that he was hurt and they noticed the pool of blood under him. After checking and finding the shards of glass had not hit any major arteries, Sal and Dive continued laughing.
Besides Sambora, Sandusky's Father and Holy Ghost found themselves being visited by Loretta Swit, Dive's first wife; Becky Longmueller and Valerie Bertinelli, two of Sa;'s ex-girlfriends, the latter having caused the singer a black eye from the fist of Eddie Van Halen (Sal talked about the incident in an issue of The People's Free Press shortly after it occurred.)
"Yeah, so, this chick [Bertinelli] has a different last name, so how'm I supposed to know she was married to the dude? Anyway, he sucker-punched me in the eye, I freaked out and beat the shit out of him—that's how I got the attempted murder thing [the charge was dropped when the DA found out the attempt was towards a musician]—yeah, so I was standing over him and saying some pretty cold shit about how David [Lee Roth] was the only one in the band with any talent—then I was blindsided by his brother and some fat guy—Anyway, the pigs grabbed us and I didn't find out 'til later when Eddie attacked me—I was, like—I don't fuck with married women you know—I mean, I thought him and Val were just living together—Yeah, so I don't feel bad about kicking the shit out of him, you know, you just don't hit Sal McKraut, you know? But, in retrospect, that shit I said about David was pretty hurtful—especially when I found out that he wasn't even with them anymore—So, you know I feel bad about that—and the married thing—But the fact that I kicked his ass, and the fact that I can no longer go to the Hard Rock Café? Could I give a rat shit? Ask me if I give a rat shit! Reporter: Do you give a rat shit? No! I don't give a rat shit!
Over the next half hour they were also joined by their friend Arthur, who they called "Kevbo," a nickname given to him during the period when they were convinced that his name was "Kevin," and his girlfriend, Sabrina Johnson, newly retired from the porn industry; Ron Jeremy, who kept whispering "I fucked her, you know" to Arthur; rapper Ice Cold D-Lite Ice, and unsuccessful hip-hop artist who Sandusky collaborated with after Ice had come up to them on the street to tell them how "dope" their country-rap song, "We're Givin' Up—Yeah/We Ain't Givin' Up Shit" was for "three white mutha'fuckas"' and lastly by their long-time roadie and friend, "Snotty Johnny" Kumpkachka.
All of them had converged on Dickwood to try and convince Sal, Dive and the absent Jonas t take a much-needed rest. They were all in their mid-forties (except for Dive, who was 46), and they could no longer push themselves through the brutal routine of writing, recording, and touring. Oddly, no one mentioned the inhuman amounts of chemicals (mostly "proven" legal drugs like cigarettes and alcohol, and street drugs like heroin or grass, but also varied "experiments" like smoking modeling clay or shooting up with kerosene) that the members of Sandusky ingested to ease the troubles of the road.
Dive began crying and hugging those who had gathered for the sake of the three beloved friends. After three "shots" (pint-sized milk cartons filled with Belgian rum and dissolved sleeping pills), Sal was similarly moved. Dive and Sal came to the realization that they had to give themselves a rest and take some time to enjoy life. They were a little worried about the probably reaction from Sturgis, who described his managerial philosophy as "push them 'til they're dead—or unprofitable," but they would deal with that later, or maybe trick Jonas into giving him a blowjob.
Hours later, after the friends of the band set out to return where they came from, the sun was setting over Dickwood. As they barbecued and drank beer, Sal and Dive reflected on what it meant to them to have seven friends concerned about their health and welfare, and one employee who wanted some time off. It was decided that after the upcoming U.S. tour in the fall, there would only be seven more tours of the states, and only two more world tours (in actuality, Sandusky's "world" tours were wide-scale tours of the U.S., with a few stops in Canada; Belgium, where they were, and still are, a huge concert draw; and Japan, where they are largely hated and misunderstood, except by a small, loyal following).
When Jonas wandered home covered in smudges of black tar and laughing, his band mates told him of the new development, and the new decision. Jonas said "cool" and stumbled off to giggle in the shower.
notes:
• Japanese concert — Sandusky gets particularly obscene and nonsensical in performance — Nudity, masturbation, curse-ridden tirades, et cetera — The audience sits politely still and quiet — Then dutifully applauds between songs —
• Jonas has a acciden, nearly electrocutes himself when he tries to play his new Gibson SG in the shower —
Dive was beating on his drum set of the moment—four large doumbecs with a cymbal wrapped in tinfoil and held together with duct tape. Sal had stolen the cymbal from a cheap Sears drum kit and presented it to his friend as a belated wedding present for Dive's short-lived marriage to his second wife, actress Bonnie Franklin.
The walls of Dickwood, the band's new cabin in the "hills" of southern Utah, were shaking from the sound, as the drums were amplified through a high-output PA. The windows had been shattered months before when the band christened Dickwood with a fuzz guitar version of "Bestseller," and local authorities reported a drastic relocation by much of the area's wildlife.
Sal was lying on a couch with a plastic bag over his head to "warm up" his voice, trying to bang his head along with Dive's poly-rhythmic, free-form drum solo. His hair was a newly dyed green—the result of an altercation with some locals. He was becoming emaciated after fasting for eleven days, and still four days left on his task. He was living on what he called "a diet of fresh air, clean water, cigarettes, wine, and Pez."—which he often did within the cabin, until Jonas complained that his dog, Ginger, was getting sick from licking up the goo.
Neither of them heard the cars drive up, nor the passengers who knocked insistently on the door. Sal and Dive were startled, but quickly amused when their friend, Ritchie Sambora, clumsily crawled through one of the always-open windows and fell on his ass, hitting the floor in a spot covered with broken glass. The pair continued laughing until Ritchie said that he was hurt and they noticed the pool of blood under him. After checking and finding the shards of glass had not hit any major arteries, Sal and Dive continued laughing.
Besides Sambora, Sandusky's Father and Holy Ghost found themselves being visited by Loretta Swit, Dive's first wife; Becky Longmueller and Valerie Bertinelli, two of Sa;'s ex-girlfriends, the latter having caused the singer a black eye from the fist of Eddie Van Halen (Sal talked about the incident in an issue of The People's Free Press shortly after it occurred.)
"Yeah, so, this chick [Bertinelli] has a different last name, so how'm I supposed to know she was married to the dude? Anyway, he sucker-punched me in the eye, I freaked out and beat the shit out of him—that's how I got the attempted murder thing [the charge was dropped when the DA found out the attempt was towards a musician]—yeah, so I was standing over him and saying some pretty cold shit about how David [Lee Roth] was the only one in the band with any talent—then I was blindsided by his brother and some fat guy—Anyway, the pigs grabbed us and I didn't find out 'til later when Eddie attacked me—I was, like—I don't fuck with married women you know—I mean, I thought him and Val were just living together—Yeah, so I don't feel bad about kicking the shit out of him, you know, you just don't hit Sal McKraut, you know? But, in retrospect, that shit I said about David was pretty hurtful—especially when I found out that he wasn't even with them anymore—So, you know I feel bad about that—and the married thing—But the fact that I kicked his ass, and the fact that I can no longer go to the Hard Rock Café? Could I give a rat shit? Ask me if I give a rat shit! Reporter: Do you give a rat shit? No! I don't give a rat shit!
Over the next half hour they were also joined by their friend Arthur, who they called "Kevbo," a nickname given to him during the period when they were convinced that his name was "Kevin," and his girlfriend, Sabrina Johnson, newly retired from the porn industry; Ron Jeremy, who kept whispering "I fucked her, you know" to Arthur; rapper Ice Cold D-Lite Ice, and unsuccessful hip-hop artist who Sandusky collaborated with after Ice had come up to them on the street to tell them how "dope" their country-rap song, "We're Givin' Up—Yeah/We Ain't Givin' Up Shit" was for "three white mutha'fuckas"' and lastly by their long-time roadie and friend, "Snotty Johnny" Kumpkachka.
All of them had converged on Dickwood to try and convince Sal, Dive and the absent Jonas t take a much-needed rest. They were all in their mid-forties (except for Dive, who was 46), and they could no longer push themselves through the brutal routine of writing, recording, and touring. Oddly, no one mentioned the inhuman amounts of chemicals (mostly "proven" legal drugs like cigarettes and alcohol, and street drugs like heroin or grass, but also varied "experiments" like smoking modeling clay or shooting up with kerosene) that the members of Sandusky ingested to ease the troubles of the road.
Dive began crying and hugging those who had gathered for the sake of the three beloved friends. After three "shots" (pint-sized milk cartons filled with Belgian rum and dissolved sleeping pills), Sal was similarly moved. Dive and Sal came to the realization that they had to give themselves a rest and take some time to enjoy life. They were a little worried about the probably reaction from Sturgis, who described his managerial philosophy as "push them 'til they're dead—or unprofitable," but they would deal with that later, or maybe trick Jonas into giving him a blowjob.
Hours later, after the friends of the band set out to return where they came from, the sun was setting over Dickwood. As they barbecued and drank beer, Sal and Dive reflected on what it meant to them to have seven friends concerned about their health and welfare, and one employee who wanted some time off. It was decided that after the upcoming U.S. tour in the fall, there would only be seven more tours of the states, and only two more world tours (in actuality, Sandusky's "world" tours were wide-scale tours of the U.S., with a few stops in Canada; Belgium, where they were, and still are, a huge concert draw; and Japan, where they are largely hated and misunderstood, except by a small, loyal following).
When Jonas wandered home covered in smudges of black tar and laughing, his band mates told him of the new development, and the new decision. Jonas said "cool" and stumbled off to giggle in the shower.
notes:
• Japanese concert — Sandusky gets particularly obscene and nonsensical in performance — Nudity, masturbation, curse-ridden tirades, et cetera — The audience sits politely still and quiet — Then dutifully applauds between songs —
• Jonas has a acciden, nearly electrocutes himself when he tries to play his new Gibson SG in the shower —
Friday, November 13, 2009
from the notes of Hiram O. Finnegan, Esq.
Those drugs arent real, Sal McKraut maintains. They just look real. McKraut is a sweaty behemoth blocking my path to the kitchen. I could probably juke past him, but then what? Reasoning with him is out of the question. For several agonizing seconds we just look at each other, Sals sagging eyes dull and loose in their sockets. Behind him, the refrigerator drones on in a low, baritone buzz.
Defeated, I return to the living room, and Sal's right behind me. They arent real, he says. Trust me.
Trusting Sal McKraut at this point is simply too much to ask. Ever since I stepped through his door, passing beneath the rusted railroad spike he says a Peruvian whore gave him for good luck, Sal McKraut has been nothing but enigmatic and evasive. He answers seven consecutive questions in iambic pentameter, then suddenly shifts to haiku for the next four. Idiot savant or idiot? Autistic or artistic? I want to ask him. So why cant I? Maybe its the 14-inch awl he uses to pick his teeth, or the bruised, misshapen knuckles that jut from the back of his hand like a scoliosis-ridden spine.
Defeated, I return to the living room, and Sal's right behind me. They arent real, he says. Trust me.
Trusting Sal McKraut at this point is simply too much to ask. Ever since I stepped through his door, passing beneath the rusted railroad spike he says a Peruvian whore gave him for good luck, Sal McKraut has been nothing but enigmatic and evasive. He answers seven consecutive questions in iambic pentameter, then suddenly shifts to haiku for the next four. Idiot savant or idiot? Autistic or artistic? I want to ask him. So why cant I? Maybe its the 14-inch awl he uses to pick his teeth, or the bruised, misshapen knuckles that jut from the back of his hand like a scoliosis-ridden spine.
sandusky drummer resurfaces?
UPI (Honolulu, HI)
Dive Oliphant, former member of seminal lo-fi country pioneers Sandusky, has emerged from his sabbatical of silence.
It was reported this morning that a 90-minute Maxell cassette wrapped in a plain rown wrapper arrived at the offices of 3.2 BOILERMAKER, an unofficial fanzine/pirate radio station based on an atoll off the coast of Guam, on March 27. 3.2 writer Merle Swisher explained the delay in releasing the contents of the tape, stating it took several months for a voice expert to confirm the voice was indeed that of the erstwhile drummer.
"Side one is basically a rambling, bourbon-addled apology to his band mates (Sal McKraut and J.. Pedantic),," Swisher said. "It's punctuated by a lot of sobbing and the sound of shit breaking, like glass and stuff. At one point, it sounds like he's jacking off."
Swisher said side one was labeled LIGHT, and side two DARK. "Side two is Dive laying five or six Smog songs on a horrifically out-of-tune acoustic. It goes on for a really long-ass time. Then he closes the tape by saying once all the painkillers are used up, he's going to stick his cock in an empty bottle of Knob Creek and shoot
heroin into his duodenum."
The tape contained no return address and offered no clues as to Oliphant's whereabouts. Swisher said there had been rumors of Dive sightings in Arkansas, Maine, and British Columbia, but none had been confirmed.
<30>
Dive Oliphant, former member of seminal lo-fi country pioneers Sandusky, has emerged from his sabbatical of silence.
It was reported this morning that a 90-minute Maxell cassette wrapped in a plain rown wrapper arrived at the offices of 3.2 BOILERMAKER, an unofficial fanzine/pirate radio station based on an atoll off the coast of Guam, on March 27. 3.2 writer Merle Swisher explained the delay in releasing the contents of the tape, stating it took several months for a voice expert to confirm the voice was indeed that of the erstwhile drummer.
"Side one is basically a rambling, bourbon-addled apology to his band mates (Sal McKraut and J.. Pedantic),," Swisher said. "It's punctuated by a lot of sobbing and the sound of shit breaking, like glass and stuff. At one point, it sounds like he's jacking off."
Swisher said side one was labeled LIGHT, and side two DARK. "Side two is Dive laying five or six Smog songs on a horrifically out-of-tune acoustic. It goes on for a really long-ass time. Then he closes the tape by saying once all the painkillers are used up, he's going to stick his cock in an empty bottle of Knob Creek and shoot
heroin into his duodenum."
The tape contained no return address and offered no clues as to Oliphant's whereabouts. Swisher said there had been rumors of Dive sightings in Arkansas, Maine, and British Columbia, but none had been confirmed.
<30>
sandusky crashes
UPI (Baton Rouge)
It was reported by Sheriff Reginald Swaynee Horace Beecham Desiree III at 4:30 a.m. that the Angelic Resurrection, a converted Boeing 727 owned by the mega-group Sandusky, had disappeared from the Baton Rouge Municipal Airport's RADAR at approximately 12:45 a.m. At this time, there is no complete passenger list and no information concerning recovery efforts or survivors.
Sandusky's plane was scheduled to fly from Dallas to Chicago and had apparently veered far east of its flight plan. The plane departed from Dallas in heavy rainfall at 12:02 a.m. with an undisclosed number of passengers. At 12:37 a.m., according to transcripts and recordings from the Baton Rouge Municipal Airport's flight control tower, an S.O.S. message was received from the Angelic Resurrection, followed quickly by a May Day, and then a plea for help. There was also some giggling.
The air traffic controller on duty, Reginald Swaynee Horace Beecham Desiree III, attempted to get information from the pilot concerning the Angelic Resurrection's problem but the pilot, known only as Bob, would say nothing but "They're back there now!" over and over.
The tower lost radio contact with the plane at 12:42 a.m. and at approximately 12:45 a.m., the plane disappeared from RADAR and is assumed to have crashed in the swamps east and south of Baton Rouge. Sheriff Desiree III, in a prepared statement, said that the public would be notified of a complete manifest once the families of all those on board had been notified. He also stated that a concerted, controlled, concrete, cohesive search and rescue mission would be mounted at first light. Typical
of the Desiree clan, the sheriff snickered at the word "mounted."
Sandusky was in Dallas as part of its multi-media "Bend Jesus Over" tour. The controversial show has more dedicated protesters than fans. Although every show on the tour has been sold out thus far, only about 15 percent of the seats have been filled during the shows, prompting industry analysts to report that the protesters are buying up the tickets in order to keep decent people from being subjected to the filth.
Sandusky representatives have repeatedly claimed that they are not anti-Jesus and that "Bend Jesus Over" is just the way they express their love and devotion of the deity, or son-of-deity, if you prefer.
Nevertheless, Sherriff Desiree III, in his statement, made it clear that foul play had not been ruled out and that a thorough investigation and cover-up would have to take place before it could be ruled out.
The Angelic Resurrection is one of a fleet of retired Boeing 727s that were sold to private owners within the last several years. Sandusky's plane had been converted to living quarters for the group. In addition to several bedrooms, a bar and a theater, the plane had a small recording studio. It is believed that the three members of Sandusky, Dive Oliphant, J..Pedantic and Sal McCrout, were in the studio when the plane lost contact with the flight control tower.
<30>
It was reported by Sheriff Reginald Swaynee Horace Beecham Desiree III at 4:30 a.m. that the Angelic Resurrection, a converted Boeing 727 owned by the mega-group Sandusky, had disappeared from the Baton Rouge Municipal Airport's RADAR at approximately 12:45 a.m. At this time, there is no complete passenger list and no information concerning recovery efforts or survivors.
Sandusky's plane was scheduled to fly from Dallas to Chicago and had apparently veered far east of its flight plan. The plane departed from Dallas in heavy rainfall at 12:02 a.m. with an undisclosed number of passengers. At 12:37 a.m., according to transcripts and recordings from the Baton Rouge Municipal Airport's flight control tower, an S.O.S. message was received from the Angelic Resurrection, followed quickly by a May Day, and then a plea for help. There was also some giggling.
The air traffic controller on duty, Reginald Swaynee Horace Beecham Desiree III, attempted to get information from the pilot concerning the Angelic Resurrection's problem but the pilot, known only as Bob, would say nothing but "They're back there now!" over and over.
The tower lost radio contact with the plane at 12:42 a.m. and at approximately 12:45 a.m., the plane disappeared from RADAR and is assumed to have crashed in the swamps east and south of Baton Rouge. Sheriff Desiree III, in a prepared statement, said that the public would be notified of a complete manifest once the families of all those on board had been notified. He also stated that a concerted, controlled, concrete, cohesive search and rescue mission would be mounted at first light. Typical
of the Desiree clan, the sheriff snickered at the word "mounted."
Sandusky was in Dallas as part of its multi-media "Bend Jesus Over" tour. The controversial show has more dedicated protesters than fans. Although every show on the tour has been sold out thus far, only about 15 percent of the seats have been filled during the shows, prompting industry analysts to report that the protesters are buying up the tickets in order to keep decent people from being subjected to the filth.
Sandusky representatives have repeatedly claimed that they are not anti-Jesus and that "Bend Jesus Over" is just the way they express their love and devotion of the deity, or son-of-deity, if you prefer.
Nevertheless, Sherriff Desiree III, in his statement, made it clear that foul play had not been ruled out and that a thorough investigation and cover-up would have to take place before it could be ruled out.
The Angelic Resurrection is one of a fleet of retired Boeing 727s that were sold to private owners within the last several years. Sandusky's plane had been converted to living quarters for the group. In addition to several bedrooms, a bar and a theater, the plane had a small recording studio. It is believed that the three members of Sandusky, Dive Oliphant, J..Pedantic and Sal McCrout, were in the studio when the plane lost contact with the flight control tower.
<30>
For Immediate Release
UPI (Bismark, N.D.)
In what can only be termed an incredible coincidence, former Sandusky vocalist Sal McKraut is reportedly embroiled in a standoff with ATF agents in Minot, North Dakota.
The news comes on the heels of the announcement that Sandusky drummer Dive Oliphant had broken his half-decade silence with a 90-minute, tear-ridden, onanistic, and homoerotic paean to his former bandmates.
McKraut has long been feared dead after his schooner mysteriously disappeared off the coast of Ireland in early 2002. A subsequent Geraldo Rivera special failed to shed any light on the singer's disappearance, spurring self-proclaimed "Sandusky fanatic" Leonard Nimoy to resurrect his cult 1970s TV show, In Search Of in an attempt to "cast the bright light of truth upon those scoundrels of deceit who depend on the shadows of apathy to cloak their knave and inhuman machinations." Nimoy's efforts were in vain, as CBS were forced to pull the show after half an episode after Nimoy aired clips of McKraut's disturbing turn in the infamous 1997 snuff film, Horatio Cornholer.
Next to take up the missing singer's cause was a cabal of young Canadian filmmakers, who threatened to uncover what they claimed was a government hit on McKraut, but an untimely outbreak of Legionnaire's Disease at the 2001 Toronto Film Festival wiped out the entire crew. The group's film and equipment were never found, further fueling speculation that McKraut had met with foul play.
A clearly skeptical contingent of musicians and pornographers mercilessly heckled FBI spokesperson Liddy Schuster after she announced federal agents and McKraut were embroiled in a standoff at the singer's underground compound high in the wind-blown steppes of the USA's most maligned state. Schuster maintains the FBI had information that McKraut was planning to "breathe some life into the fetid cadaver of the Symbionese Liberation Army" by stockpiling guns, duty-free liquor, and " underage pussy."
"He also mentioned something about Patty Hearst and DVDA, whatever that means," Schuster added. "McKraut's disturbing history of pedophilia, combined with the recidivist rates of these insidious acts, made it clear to us that action had to be taken. Unfortunately, we did not expect McKraut to be so well armed. We have repeatedly tried to negotiate with Mr. McKraut, but our attempts have been met with either silence, gunfire, or taped recordings of McKraut reading from Ronnie James Dio's Holy Diver."
Despite Schuster's grim-faced assertions, Sandusky fan Jules Alfonseca remained unconvinced. "The dude's already dead. They iced his ass back in Ireland cos they didn't like what his next record was going to be. That shit was gonna to rip the lid off tha motherfucking joint. Now they are staging this sham of a standoff to bamboozle the populace, so they can say he died up there and take the heat off their corrupt asses. But mark my words - the bitches underestimate us. Sal, you shall be redeemed, my brother."
Asked to elaborate, Alfonseca respectfully declined, citing his fear that "to speak now would be to sign my own death warrant."
<30>
In what can only be termed an incredible coincidence, former Sandusky vocalist Sal McKraut is reportedly embroiled in a standoff with ATF agents in Minot, North Dakota.
The news comes on the heels of the announcement that Sandusky drummer Dive Oliphant had broken his half-decade silence with a 90-minute, tear-ridden, onanistic, and homoerotic paean to his former bandmates.
McKraut has long been feared dead after his schooner mysteriously disappeared off the coast of Ireland in early 2002. A subsequent Geraldo Rivera special failed to shed any light on the singer's disappearance, spurring self-proclaimed "Sandusky fanatic" Leonard Nimoy to resurrect his cult 1970s TV show, In Search Of in an attempt to "cast the bright light of truth upon those scoundrels of deceit who depend on the shadows of apathy to cloak their knave and inhuman machinations." Nimoy's efforts were in vain, as CBS were forced to pull the show after half an episode after Nimoy aired clips of McKraut's disturbing turn in the infamous 1997 snuff film, Horatio Cornholer.
Next to take up the missing singer's cause was a cabal of young Canadian filmmakers, who threatened to uncover what they claimed was a government hit on McKraut, but an untimely outbreak of Legionnaire's Disease at the 2001 Toronto Film Festival wiped out the entire crew. The group's film and equipment were never found, further fueling speculation that McKraut had met with foul play.
A clearly skeptical contingent of musicians and pornographers mercilessly heckled FBI spokesperson Liddy Schuster after she announced federal agents and McKraut were embroiled in a standoff at the singer's underground compound high in the wind-blown steppes of the USA's most maligned state. Schuster maintains the FBI had information that McKraut was planning to "breathe some life into the fetid cadaver of the Symbionese Liberation Army" by stockpiling guns, duty-free liquor, and " underage pussy."
"He also mentioned something about Patty Hearst and DVDA, whatever that means," Schuster added. "McKraut's disturbing history of pedophilia, combined with the recidivist rates of these insidious acts, made it clear to us that action had to be taken. Unfortunately, we did not expect McKraut to be so well armed. We have repeatedly tried to negotiate with Mr. McKraut, but our attempts have been met with either silence, gunfire, or taped recordings of McKraut reading from Ronnie James Dio's Holy Diver."
Despite Schuster's grim-faced assertions, Sandusky fan Jules Alfonseca remained unconvinced. "The dude's already dead. They iced his ass back in Ireland cos they didn't like what his next record was going to be. That shit was gonna to rip the lid off tha motherfucking joint. Now they are staging this sham of a standoff to bamboozle the populace, so they can say he died up there and take the heat off their corrupt asses. But mark my words - the bitches underestimate us. Sal, you shall be redeemed, my brother."
Asked to elaborate, Alfonseca respectfully declined, citing his fear that "to speak now would be to sign my own death warrant."
<30>
ouevre
the songs of sandusky
3.2 Boilermaker
Best Seller
Big, Big Boner
Boundaries are Sacred
Carbomite Manure
Chott Lake
Crap Factory
Elegy for Rondo
Guns and Bongs
Head in the Frigerator
Heroin and a Dress
Im Gonna Buy Some Drugs
In Flagrante Delecto
Jello Tortilla
Let Me Take You to Laser Rush
Lester is Balding
Many Pause (to Remember)
Pimp and Circumstance
Reach for it, Pardner
Roach Clip
Separate Waves
Shave Me There — and Then Go Lower
Sour Mash
Stairway to New Haven
The Bastard Child of Raymond Carver
The Fizzle Phelch Kid
The Taste of Becky's Soup
We Just Need a Name for it Now *
Yalmuke Babooshka Nocturnal Blues
Leggo My Dope
rectal (there mom met her)
would you suck it if i were spanish?
christ would ya look at that limp
jonas goes scat
this hole's my bitch
broken dogleg
give her a gossamer bush
swamp putter
pin fucker
Let the Circle Jerk be Unbroken
Tampon Tea Bag
My Salad Ain't Gonna' Toss It's Self (My Pretty Darlin')
Fellatio Ship of the Rings
Hot Carl Blues
Stuck in my Craw
Hitler Moustache
Cow Poke
Bumble Fuck
* Part II of the historical dirge trilogy
cover versions
You Outta Know (Alanis Morrisette)
Back in Black (AC/DC)
Simple Man (Lynyrd Skynyrd)
Straight Outta Compton (NWA)
I Got Drunk (Uncle Tupelo)
I Must Be High (Wilco)
Cry Me a River
Passenger Side (Wilco)
You Can't Always Get What You Want (Rolling Stones)
Purple Rain ** (Prince)
Tommy (in its entirety) (The Who)
Your Cheating Heart (Hank Williams)
Escape (in its entirety) (Journey)
** aka "Norman Fell"
3.2 Boilermaker
Best Seller
Big, Big Boner
Boundaries are Sacred
Carbomite Manure
Chott Lake
Crap Factory
Elegy for Rondo
Guns and Bongs
Head in the Frigerator
Heroin and a Dress
Im Gonna Buy Some Drugs
In Flagrante Delecto
Jello Tortilla
Let Me Take You to Laser Rush
Lester is Balding
Many Pause (to Remember)
Pimp and Circumstance
Reach for it, Pardner
Roach Clip
Separate Waves
Shave Me There — and Then Go Lower
Sour Mash
Stairway to New Haven
The Bastard Child of Raymond Carver
The Fizzle Phelch Kid
The Taste of Becky's Soup
We Just Need a Name for it Now *
Yalmuke Babooshka Nocturnal Blues
Leggo My Dope
rectal (there mom met her)
would you suck it if i were spanish?
christ would ya look at that limp
jonas goes scat
this hole's my bitch
broken dogleg
give her a gossamer bush
swamp putter
pin fucker
Let the Circle Jerk be Unbroken
Tampon Tea Bag
My Salad Ain't Gonna' Toss It's Self (My Pretty Darlin')
Fellatio Ship of the Rings
Hot Carl Blues
Stuck in my Craw
Hitler Moustache
Cow Poke
Bumble Fuck
* Part II of the historical dirge trilogy
cover versions
You Outta Know (Alanis Morrisette)
Back in Black (AC/DC)
Simple Man (Lynyrd Skynyrd)
Straight Outta Compton (NWA)
I Got Drunk (Uncle Tupelo)
I Must Be High (Wilco)
Cry Me a River
Passenger Side (Wilco)
You Can't Always Get What You Want (Rolling Stones)
Purple Rain ** (Prince)
Tommy (in its entirety) (The Who)
Your Cheating Heart (Hank Williams)
Escape (in its entirety) (Journey)
** aka "Norman Fell"
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