Wednesday, April 16, 2014

I really like bar mirrors.

I think it's because...well, I like bars.

We play in bars all the time. I'm constantly in bars. I couldn't escape a bar if I tried. Even if I absolutely hated bars, I still couldn't fight my natural attraction to low lighting and a place where the lone intent is to get fucked up. So I'm stuck liking bars.

Whenever we go on tour, whenever we play a wacky bar in the middle of no where, I always entertain the idea of swiping something off the wall for my own collection. Nothing too big, nothing like a giant cow skull or a chalkboard, but something minor and inconspicuous to take home and to help build my arsenal of weird, dumb shit. You know how some bars are just littered with dumb shit? Moose heads, cheesy beer posters, whatever. Stuff like that. 

It's bad, I know, but it's my dream. It's my calling. Naturally, I'm too much of a puss to actually do this, so I'm left with accomplishing the goal in my own, legal fashion. Wait, what's the goal again?

I dunno. To make my place look like a bar, I guess.

There's comfort in bar culture. I like bars. I like the way they look, feel and smell. Over the years, I've become so accustomed to the inside of these damn places that I want my damn place to look like those damn places.


I don't know how I got it in my head, but I really like bar mirrors now. They're just Classy, maybe? I don't know. Now, I've seen quite a few radical bar mirrors in my time (Elvis themed, that really cool Coors Light Beer Wolf thing, etc.) but most, unfortunately, are insanely overpriced. Who knew a mirror you can barely see yourself in would be so expensive? So you gotta understand my plight. You know the lengths I would go to (petty theft, irrevocable guilt, etc.) but I'm a bar-bum on a budget. And where do bums shop?

And so enters eBay:

It was cheap, which is good. It was one of those rare and exciting occasions where I actually won what I was bidding on. I figure no one gives a shit about flimsy, dirty Pacifico mirrors like I do, so the celebration seems a bit overzealous. Extra points because Pacifico is delicious BTW.

And I dig the way it looks! Wood frame, clean glass, every one's happy. While doing the shitty dishes, I can imagine that I'm on a beach with the sun above, the wind gently wafting through my hair while a raucous, two-on-two volleyball tournament takes place in the near distance. Winner takes home bragging rights and the hottest girl in school! Just imagine!

Believe it or not, I found this next piece in the dumpster. The fucking dumpster. I'm not one to knock the ol' occasional dumpster dive, though. In fact, I encourage it. Fantastic things can be found in dumpsters! Like a slightly dirty, possibly diseased Dos Equis bar mirror! Touch of paint a bit of elbow grease and she shines like a diamond. The mirror is so reflective you can make out every nook and cranny of that popcorn ceiling! 

That's about it for now. 

Of course, the hunt continues. 

The obsession grows.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

American Rebel Death Riders

CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!

CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!

CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!

CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!

CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!

Monday, February 24, 2014

im addicted i can't help somebody please save me



video games, man, video games.

long story short, as soon as we got back from tour i melted into a pile of bones and skin and goo in front of my television. it was disgusting, weird and morally irresponsible but i didn't and still dont care. whenever we're offered time in between tours, i really like to go balls out with the most lazy, inconsequential bullshit known to man. netflix has always reigned supreme, but only recently have I dusted off my poor and lonely ps3 have I truly descended into a brand new era of madness.

i should have never touched the fucking thing

theres this game, this really crazy game, it's called "farcry 3" and it's really crazy. Our buddy, Luke, who occasionally goes out on tour with us to sell our fancy shirts and girly underwears, is a definite video game devotee. he likes video games as much as i like hot coffee and potato salad. which is a lot. there's no time to explain the pototo salad thing JSUTS GO WITH IT

you see, he told about this game, he told me about a lot of games, he told me stories and exciting tales of other worlds and lush adventures and all this good shit.  i was hooked.  there's a whole lot of time to kill on the road so my mind wandered to these magical realms.  i remember the good days of ps and ps2 and now ps3. the days of yore and all that shit. no life but fuck it, those were some good times!
ive always been addicted to video games, if we're being honest.  only in the last few years have I truly eased off since ya know ya gotta get some tail amiright???.i've even scoffed at the idea of someone playing video games. "what a dork!"  "get a life!" i'd say from my bitchin sports car.  ya know like how right after hardcore smokers who've quit get butthurt when others smoke around them. it's pure hypocrisy. what I'm saying is that i'm a hypocrite. or wuz or something. and that i wish I could smoke a video game.  cuz i love video games again and i love it so much and i can never stop oh godd ojfjgosfjdkc

even right now i'm typing this while i adventure.  im literally on my phone and playing this fucking game.  i can feel my brain doing something weird and my body is hurts its fucking sick man. i'm ignoring all punctuation and grammar and hygenine and natrual sleep but i don't give a shit. ahhh that's not totally true. it still kind of bugs me that stuff aint capitalized and my im covered in grease oh crap SOMETHING IMPORTANT IS HAPPENING hold on a sec

OK im back waht was i saying?

ya there's this really coool video game where you get to shoot people and and hunt aniamls and skin them too if you really like. you can use shark skin and shit to make napsacks and ammo pouches and all that jazz. isn't that neat? youre like a GUY BRO who gets abducted by a group of crazy dudes after you parachute onto the wrong motherfucking island. like...your not ACTUALLY THE GUY but you're playing one, know what i mean?? you get to ride all sorts of cars and boats and shit and do some crazyass maneuvers on some dudes, like sneek up behind people and slash there throats and even theres a part where u take some drugs and start tripping like holy hell man it's fucking tiiiiiiiight

im almost near the end there's a few more things to do this is probably my favorite game i've played so far and believe me i've played a lot of games does your head hurt to? my head reallyl hurts i feel funny

yah, theres this really cool game i'm playing right now soooooooooo

so ill have to get back to you later oK?


bye ttyl

Thursday, February 13, 2014

"There is an Evil Inside."

One of my favorite music videos from one of my favorite albums. Can it get any better than that?

We filmed this in a single day, but it took about two hours to get my hair just right.  We wanted to go for something a little more simple, a little more in your face and just plain gnarly.  All Calabrese, all the time.  Have you ever wanted to see what our mouths looked like REALLY UP CLOSE?  Well, then this video is for you!

There's a few very specific influences we generously took from, but I think that's what gives it charm.  Words like "copy" and "clone" or so negative, ladies and gentleman.  I like to think of it as an homage.  A grandiose tribute!

And if anything, I also really like the song.  I think it's one of the cooler tracks off the record, and really stands out as being something unique and solid and interesting.  We wrote it to be like The Misfits' "American Nightmare," or something Elvis would write if he were attacked by a werewolf.  Whatever the case, the song is done and the video is complete, so grab yourself an extra large and buttery bag of popcorn and enjoy!


Tuesday, December 31, 2013

XMAS HAUL, 2013.

What, what did ya get?

Oh, that's great!  You really needed that, too.  It's definitely gonna come in handy.  And I always heard the life warranty on those things were fantastic.  So that's great, yeah.  Oh, what did I get?  Well, not much, this and that...a few little things to tide me over into the new year.


The greatest and quickest way to make a single cup of freshly brewed coffee.  This is the Lazy Man's Brew.  This is modern technology!

For years I've scoffed at the notion of a Keurig.  Extra emphasis on the "eu" part, accentuating it's pretentiousness.  Actually buying expensive little plastic cups to brew expensive little plastic coffee?  Who do you think I am?

"It's ludicrous!" I'd shout.  "It's wasteful and tacky and lame!" I'd proclaim.  I've since succumbed to BIK (Believers in Keurig) because this is the best cup of coffee brewed in under forty-five seconds.

My mom has one, and I've always liked using it because you could make a single cup of Joe without the fuss and muss of grounding up beans or scooping out grounds from a tin can.  AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON FILTERS.  Unless you're using a French press or heating up water for instant, the whole damn thing is an exercise in exhibiting patience.  Yeeeeah I'm literally over blowing the whole thing because it really doesn't take that long to warm up a standard pot of regular coffee.  So then what the fuck is the point of a Kuerig?

Well, it is quicker, but it's also maddeningly convenient.  You know how you waste a full pot of coffee when all you wanted was a single cup?  Those days are gone, my friend.  Sure, it's definitely more expensive and there's probably a lingering chemical taste in each serving (the whole thing is a boiling machine of hot plastic) but it's totally worth it.  I'd assume this is great for single people or anyone who updates their Facebook with Bitsrips.  Because you're probably single.

It's good stuff.  It really did taste like burning plastic at first, but a dozen or so run-throughs and the stank is nearly non-existent.  Hell, I use so much half-and-half it really doesn't even matter what I'm drinking.

The only negative is strictly ridiculous and of my own accord.  I suppose I like the sight and smell of a Mr. Coffee drip.  A steaming pot of coffee is just so classic and vintage it reminds me of movies that take place in police stations and drunken late night trips to Dunkin' Donuts.  You don't get that with a Keuring.  But it's still cool.  Like, really cool.  This was a good Christmas.  I love Christmas.

See you next year!

Monday, December 23, 2013

Christmas Shopping Sucks.


Over the years, 

I still don't understand why it becomes so hard for me to buckle down and buy something for anyone.  It's not that I don't like purchasing gifts for friends and family, it's just that I gotta leave the house and really think about what people want.  And that's hard.  I could know you for ten years and still have trouble buying you lunch.  BUT I THOUGHT YOU LIKED GYROS.

I'm shocked that I wait until the day before Christmas Eve to do the brunt of all my shopping.  It's legitimately shocking.  I actually I'm completely shocked and aghast and disgusted with myself.  I mean, what's my problem?  I must be so lazy and demented and unsound that this actually seems like a good idea.  Because, truth be told, there's not that many people I have to buy for.

In my family, we've decided that you will buy something for the parents.  You don't necessarily have to, but it's unwise if you didn't.  You will also have a choice in purchasing goods for the younger generation.  This is also a choice.  Whether you want to be Bad Ass /Aunt/Uncle is entirely up to you.  And since there are so many siblings and in-laws, we've decided to each pull a name out of a hat and only worry about that single, lone person.  So what was once a shit-storm of gift giving has now been reduced to spending about twenty bucks on an older sister you barely see.  That's it, that's all, now worries and no mess.  You're in, you're out, happy new year.


I can't think straight, there's too much pressure, I've got a headache and the smell of people is making me feel weird.  Someone brushed against my shoulder I think I'm gonna die!

And, of course, with blowing any wad of cash in one sitting, I instantly feel like I'm in financial ruins and will need to declare bankruptcy in the next twenty-four hours.  I don't even know how to do that or what that even means but yeah I spent a shit load of money.

OF COURSE there's a silver lining.  I wouldn't deck the halls with balls of holly and not get myself something, now would I?  I did all the dirty work so now I demand a treat.  The madness of a single Target the morning before Christmas Eve warrants delight.  I want a present, too!

Total impulse buy.  Waiting in the checkout line and thar she blows -- Topps' Garbage Pail Kids Sticker Cards.  A total classic, a time honored treat, a the light at the end of any tunnel.  I wanted to melt into the ground and disappear into nothingness at this point so the welcome sight of disgusting babies doing disgusting things calmed me into solidity.  I remained one mass.  I did not ooze.

I would have went nuttier.  I should have went bigger.  I would have bought something really dumb and useless, but time wasn't on my side and I really wanted to get back into my pajamas.  Stickers of gross kids popping zits and committing suicide is nothing to complain about, though.  I hate shopping and I hate buying things for other people but I sure do love these.  I finally feel calm and at peace during this joyous holiday season.  My Christmas is saved!

The usual suspects in a mess of mucus and pus.  I feel at home with Garbage Pail Kids.  First and foremost, I like how these things still exist in a modern world, secondly, I really like how these double as stickers.  Such barf-filled fun can be shared with the simple slap of a heavy hand.  That was just a fancy way for saying you can totally fuck up your friends' car windows with these things.

The search is still on for a "Bobby" Garbage Pail Kid for my guitar, but I ain't cryin'.  The hunt is way better than the catch.

Christmas shopping still sucks, but this Monday night I am at peace.

I'm calm.

I'm cool.

Oh, yeah.

Friday, December 20, 2013


I don't have a Christmas tree.  And do be honest, I don't even really want a Christmas tree.  Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas and if somebody bought and constructed a Christmas tree specifically for my living room then yeah, sure, I'll take a Christmas tree.  But actions speak louder than words because uggggh I don't want to go through the trouble.  Call me lazy.  Call me a Grinch.  Call me hesitant on putting up a hundred dollars worth of a big hassle just to tear it back down in a week.  That's kind of my fault, though, since Christmas is, like, practically tomorrow.  My bad.

Buuuut, if I can assemble something specifically for the holidays that can be used year round without question...why, that would be keen!

And so enters the Christmas Palm Tree.

I like this idea.  I like this look.  I've seen a lot of people do this over the years and it always seemed really cool and chic and hip.   There's an air of simplicity and nonchalance about decorating a palm tree instead of going the classic route with a big ol' pine.  To me it says, "I care...but I really don't."  BUT PLEASE UNDERSTAND that I do care.  I totally dig Christmas.  Besides, we live in the southwest so no one gives a shit about a palm tree just chillin' in your house.

The lights!  The magic!  Everything twinkles and sparkles and shines.  I've got eight-thousand "A Christmas Story" themed ornaments I've been dying to use, so I'm pretty stoked on that.  Throw a few hastily wrapped DVDs under the thing and BAM let's call it a day.  The DVDs will be for me, so I'm thinking "Cyborg" with Van Damme and "Men at Work" with the Estevez brothers.

I figure I can leave it up year round.  This is the catalyst for greater things to come.  There's nothing stopping me from turning my place into a den of total beach relaxation.  As you can already tell, my walls have been painted yellow in an attempt to recreate sunshine, happiness and fine, Mexican restaurant luxury.  All I need now is a hammock and a six pack of Dos Equis.  My older sister thinks Dos Equis tastes like tires but I disagree.  I can't formulate an answer that can properly deny this claim, but I certainly don't think it tastes like tires.  I highly recommend a slice of lime and salt to heighten the flavor, Older Sister.  Makes the world of difference.

Now, I'm thinking I wanna cover my couch in lobsters and king crabs but I figure that would be too much.  Anyone who would come over to hang out and have a seat would eventually move them and disorganize the entire setup and that wouldn't quite jive well with me.  There's a certain placement with this kind of thing, a definite feng shui to the underwater wild.  But I suppose that I don't want to get into too much of an underwater theme to the place -- no one likes SeaWorld that much.

I think what I have going is a good thing.  I watch TV and my eyes divert to the corner where the palm tree stands.  A warmth fills my body.  If that isn't Christmas cheer I don't know what is.  I hope your holidays are filled with merriness and good tidings and all that other shit.

All that good shit.