THE BIBLE OF THE STREETS TELLS ME I'M ALWAYS RIGHT WHEN I LISP
The sound of urine hitting the bottom of a trash can is a normal occurrence in my nape of the neck, but sometimes it’s special. The other night I was out on the roof when I heard that usual gentle gushin’. I looked down to see if maybe I was missing some sorta watersportical hooker moves, when lo and behold, it was none other than Zachary Davis from that infamous Ohio improv crap rock band Lambsbread. Zac was scoring this new heroin/Gatorade hybrid drug on my corner and just decided to take a wee. How quaint! He tolds me they was in the area to both score drugs and play down at that wine cellar known as Tonic. He said I could get a ride with them if I promised to play ‘The Cinderblock Game’ on the ride there. Just then a chunk of wax the size of Bea Arthur’s clit fell out of my ear and I knew I was in for serious bidnit. The ride to Tonic found me chucking the cinderblock at this one cat with a blue bandana hanging out of his right pocket. Fucked him up bad. I came this close to spilling my mudslide down the front of my M. Ward t-shirt when we finally hit the Tonic. Outside were all these kids who were turned away from the Harley’s War show at CBGB’s. They all had on leg warmers and were jaggin’ to the beat of ‘We Gotta Know’. Fuckin’ total Nicole Ritchie shit. I was in their heads bouncing off their brains and they didn’t even know it. Blah.
As my hands started to swell back to their normal size, I had this weird flashback to a time I never had as a child. Riding bikes down a barren suburban road with a blonde haired girl. There was a chill in the air and some sorta (Jesus Christ) hint of hope riding through the electricity in the spokes. There’s just one thing…I never learned to ride a bike. Damn you Daniel DiMaggio! As you know since you’re such a hip motherfucker, Daniel is this kid outta Princeton, New Jersey who records under the moniker of Home Blitz. He put out this three song 7” earlier this year that sent many old men into heart attack mode. I was no exception in the situation, except for the fact I am not THAT old yet…dammit. He just pooped out another one entitled ‘Live Outside’ and where the first one brought jumbled visions of too many pixie sticks and not enough ass ointment into my preverbal ‘mind’, this one gets me all wistful and makes me wish I hadda window to stare out of that wasn’t caked with dust and splatterings of Taco Bell Fire Sauce. Gives me some sorta flashback to innocence I suppose…remember that shit? Yeesh…Maybe you won’t get so fruity when you listen to this and treat it as an actual frickin’ object. Get at Daniel and he’ll hook you up http://www.myspace.com/homeblitz
So back at the club, Lambsbread hear the news that Britney Lohan had her second kid and they burn a dumpster fulla weed in celebration. No wait…I meant to say they burned a dumpster fulla homeless people in celebration. Either way, it’s awesome. Afterwords, they decide to play and burn on fumes of utter nothingness with contempt that’s got some expectation in it’s corners. I remember this time when I was a dumb ass kid and I took too many of these pills that Rosenburg nicked outta his Dads’ medicide cabinet. His Pops had some sorta back problem and these things were supposed to help it abit. All it did was make me wanna run up and down the street yelling ’Senior Week!’ I then felt like I was gonna shit my pants, but I was still happy to be alive. This is how Lambsbread make me feel. I know they would be so proud. Ten minutes is all you need of their blowout and you feel fucked. I wish that was how long my whole ‘trying not to shit my pants/running down the streets of Newtown’ episode went on for. Sadly, it went on for awhile and we missed going to see Unwound because of it. I guess I did us all a favor…Hi-Oh!
Lambsbread got shit’s coming out on Parts Unknown, Ecstatic Peace! and ninety million other labels ‘cause niggas wanna piece of the flavor. You want a piece too, dontcha? Too bad…go back to your studio apartment you faggot ass! Things will never be the same ‘cause you never treated people right! At least that’s what someone told me… email@example.com if you wanna get with the ‘Bread.
I really got nothing else to tell you. Why don’t you tell me something? That would be interesting…