Tiger Beer! Devilman! AND MORE!

Yes! One of my favorite pastimes can easily be chalked up to drinking new beer. It's probably the worst things to get into when, down the line, you're pretty sure you don't want to look like a pregnant man.

I found this particular libation while checking out an asian supermarket, either looking for Japanese cigarettes or really cool toy robots on a really boring Saturday night. It's been an obsession of mine to smoke what Guitar Wolf smokes, and to litter my place with authentic, straight-outta-Japan goodies. I've found neither in the course of manymany years, but I'm still holding out for that one, big jackpot of pants-wetting fun. I think it's kinda illegal to sell the smokes, and the general, Phoenix area doesn't quite feel the need to run a Robotech ring, hocking robo-dolls and boxes full of Gundams. Ooo, I shoulda went with, "run a Gundam Wing Ring." Woulda been more fun, and kinda cute. Eghh.

One of these days, my luck will turn. Because I know you're out there, Asian Store That Sells Cool Japanese Shit. I just know. Until then...I choose you, Tiger beer.

I can pretty much get down with anything, save for chocolate beers and coffee beers and anything that's added to beer to kinda dillute the taste of beer. Oh, and the cheap shit. I've said it before and I'll say it again -- if I'm gonna desecrate and destroy the insides of my body, it's gonna be going down with quality.

This ain't cheap. Well, it's probably piss over in it's native land, but what can you do? I think this is about eight bucks and isn't Milwaukee's Best. We've got ourselves a winner! So anyways, this is from Singapore, is a pale lager and comes in pretty bottle with a cool Tiger logo. I really hate to say I'm prejudiced, and just bound to enjoy this, simply based on the fact that it's called Tiger beer, as if an unpronouncable, German brand is less superior to that of a drink named after a giant, orange cat. But I'm a simple man, with simple tastes. I also like to think this is alcoholic tiger-blood. What? You don't?

The taste? Ah, the taste. In past posts, I've tried to describe beers before, and it never really works out in any way I'd hope for. I'm terrible at it. My go-to buzz words/phrases are always "nutty," "golden brown perfection" and "I got nasty fucked up on this one." I'm not gonna win any awards, I know, but I still like to take a small, tiny amount of pride in my work. I could compare it to other beers, but that's kinda like cheating, and sometimes even more confusing. Say I compare it to...oh...Guiness, but you've never had Guiness. We're back to square one, daydreaming about tigers and stuffs.

I say go for it. It's pretty delicious, light on yer guts and will help strike up any mild conversation with the domestic drinkers and annoyingly curious.

This kinda fits in with the theme:

During our two week, east-coast rock and roll stint a month back, we played the HorrorHound convention in Indianapolis. Mainly, we hung out at our merch table and sold our shit for an entire day (yes!) and had an opportunity to stare at hundreds of things we could have easily spent hundreds of dollars on (yes!) I made it my goal to at least get something, and I decided on that. A Devilman bottle opener.

Between Danzig and White Zombie's fascination with Devilman and my always growing fascination anything super-Satanic, I knew I had to have this. Maybe it just emanated off of me, 'cause as soon as I asked the lady behind her booth, "how much for this badda boy?" she replied, "Ehh, just take it." Christmas miracle in March. Good thing, 'cause it turns out it was fifteen bucks. I'd probably end up buying it, anways, but I'm jus' sayin' -- I really want you to know I've got my priorities straight.

I still have no idea who or what a Devilman is or does (besides looking so cool) but it does what it ultimately promises...which is to open beer bottles while emitting a loud, screeching wail. Yeah, Devilman screams when you pop the top off a cold, frosty one.

As a sidenote, and ultimately some great filler, I remember the day of the event, we decided to stop at the diner across the way. It had been a few days since we actually had any solid, warm food, so it was a welcome site. It was one of those places kinda like Denny's fused with an IHOP, with no actual direction in decor. Felt like you were in someone's empty furniture store, that kept the rug on, the chairs up and served you greasy food. I dunno, it was weird. And that feeling absolutely turned into pain, when soon after eating only a few bites of my BLT, I realized it was gonna be one of those nights.

The thing is, touring in a band and playing shows is absolutely the greatest and the worst thing you can do. Everything outside of being at the show, and actually playing that show can be a wild pain in the ass. Seeing the world is great, sleeping in a van can be fun, whatever. My main enemy, my arch-nemesis in the world of touring...is the bathroom. The Goddamn restroom. The toilet. The shitter! Well, more specifically, a dirty bathroom. Hell, no bathroom is a bigger problem. If the place just ain't outta toilet paper, the place simply doesn't exist. A double edged sword, except one side of the sword is a bit longer and sharper, 'cause you're crapping behind a dumpster. Put that in your pocket. So it's always a gamble, from venue to venue, to find a decent, private and moderately clean bathroom. It's unnerving, painfully stressful and yeah, the Goddamn worst subject matter to be talking about on a widely accessible, easy to find blog on the internet. Cool!

So I'll wrap this up: basically, got kinda sick. Thank God, we played in a hotel with enough bathrooms to make a day out of testing each ones crap-ability. I base this out of toilet paper available, the seat's warmth and general feng shui of the room. The place was stocked up and ready for my hard-hitting, news editorial. So basically, don't go to that diner place in the same complex as that hotel. Or if anything, don't play a show directly afterwards. It's a matter of life and diharrea.

Laters!

Tale of Two Jawas.

Take a look at the above photo. What you see is my youth, in two, single Star Wars toys.

Recently, I've been hell-bent on collection as many vintage Star Wars toys as possible. To ease the quest's severity, I've decided to skip the vehicles, playsets and generally anything over the size of my index finger. Obviously, there's gonna be exceptions (see: rancors and wompas) But hey, I've got my limits. Gotta have limits.

One of the reasons I'm so into Star Wars is because of the huge impact it had on me growing up. The movies fused a subtle amount of horror, adventure and a weird, underlining creepiness that you can truly blame on life-like puppets and realistic masks. Something about it all, combined with a universe so vast and in-depth, really struck a nerve in Young Me. Don't even get me started on E.T.

Anyway, growing up, I essentially stole all of the coolest shit from my older brother, Jimmy. I begged for the current toys and I pilfered from a sibling's room. I had the best of two worlds, and nothing was gonna stop me from gaining access to the Treasures of the Universe. Which was any action figure made to have devil horns, a demon face or a skeleton head, really. Lots of the that stuff was flying around in the 80's.

So Star Wars. Had a lot of them toys, still do. It's like my comfort food, except you can replace deliciousness with hard plastic. Yes, I just admited to chewing on Uncle Owen's head to calm myself thank you very much. But that aside, I'll wholly admit to never truly understanding what the hell happened in any of the movies. I do know, jus' sayin', but yeah. As far as I was concerned, all three films were about snake-monsters and robo-men shooting (and missing) laser guns while flying huge, galaxy shattering space craft. It all went into my head, jumbled up to varying degrees, and made it's way into my young mind's conscious, allowing me to run the story to my understading. Things that were absolutely untrue were, well...truth.

Take that photo for example. I saw the movies countless times, I kinda new what was going on, right? Wrong. I really have no idea why I wanna blog about this, but hey, it's all I got. Plus, I, for some reason, just thought of this and was pretty amused at my Past Me:

You can blame the similiar outfits, but I really thought Obi-Wan was a taller Jawa. I thought he made it out of Jawa World a larger, more normal looking dude, while the rest of the pack was left behind in the dust and under three feet. I really thought they were connected somehow, as if the Jawas and Obi-Wan were best buds in the desert landscape of Tatooine. I really hoped they had a good relationship, kept in touch with eachother and worked out a pick-pocketing racket, with those nimble, delicate Jawa hands. I really do.

Man, I love Star Wars.

'Til next time!

Davey Calabrese Strikes Again!

Check it out! New video from Davey's own sick, twisted mind-balls!



I will admit my participation, though - my very own voice was recruited to help aid Davey's stop-animation madness. The D-Man did everything himself, from the lighting of the stage to the actual building and constructing of the stage, which, if you notice, is a small-scale version of one of our band room's walls, mainly noticable in Davey's previous video. My hat is off to you, brother.

Confusingly, I was told, "you gotta help me finish this c'mon let's go just say funny stuff," so I ended up playing the role of Skeletor (I refused to use my original, 80's Skeletor, so it was determined to use the more muscle bound, still-kinda-cool modern version) We ended up doing it in a few, quick takes, and apparently, unscripted and random will equate to hilarity. As soon as we decided to actually rehearse and think out our lines, it went straight to shit.

I've also realized I sound like a real, manly woman.

When all is said and done, it looks great! For under a week's time, nervously trying to beat out the clock, I'd say we have a winner. Reminds me of all the good times Davey and I had making stop motion films outta Legos, giant sized Gumby dolls and an "Indiana Jones" soundtrack. So maybe you'll see more of these videos in the future, maybe you'll see less. Oh hell, forget it. I'm already not into it anymore. Ha!

ALSO! New banners! Spread the word!

The Sword!

New band alert! Okay, not really a new band...but new to me. Check this shit out:

I picked this up after hearing they played a bad-ass, rockin', Black Sabbath-esque style, something I'm realizing is always a good thing and never bad. It's an odd notion to wanna listen to other bands that sound near identical to your other favorite bands, but I guess that's life for ya. You tend to stick to what you like. You don't order the salmon when you hate fish. Get it got it good.

So right off, no, this record isn't a tour de force of Black Sabbathisms. You can hear the influence, from the tasteful sludginess to the wail of the dude's voice bordering on pure Ozziness. And it's great! I love it! Lately, I've been into the stoner-rock, 70's vibe, musically. That heavy, gut-dropping rock and roll is highly addictive, once you're knee deep in it's flavorful grooves. Yeah, it totally sounds like I just made an accidental confession in pot use. Ain't true, mofo!

Anyway, I'm pretty into that sound, that delicious, vintage rock and roll tone. Honestly, the only other band I like in this weird, weed-fueled sub-genre is Electric Wizard. I've looked up other bands in the same vein, but they all suck. Shitty vocals, guitar riffs almost hitting a happy vibe...it's just not right. Electric Wizard, as is the Sword's first album, really hits that special-pleasure-button of mine. The guitar is high-flying with riffs-galore. The vocals are audible, fuzzed out and super Sabbathy. I guess, really, what I'm trying to say is that I'm liking the bands that sound too much like Black Sabbath, too much like an era now gone. Hey, if you're gonna rip off a band, why not do it better than the actual band?

Plus, the cover art and lyric content is awesome! The damn thing looks like a cross between Conan the Barbarian's sisters' favorite magazine and the front page of a D&D role-playing book. I think I heard the phrase, "spider priests!" in one of the songs, too, making it a winner! Such a fucking winner!

Oh, and as soon as I could, I also picked up this:

Their second, more recent album. I'd try to match this image with the smaller image above, but that's how google images is rollin' tonight. Kinda makes me feel all funny, like things aren't lining up right in the universe. Forgive me?

Review of Above Album: yeah, total crud. To be fair, it's different. Which means it doesn't even come close to their debut, which is weird, and a highly unfair and snap judgement by yours truly. But hey! They seemed to ditch the grooviness for a more modern sound, so it's their fauly. I dunno, I hear a lot of boring riffage going on with total lack of rock and roll. The first album had that punch, that swagger, like Motorhead mingling with the Rolling Stones. To be honest, I'm just sick of metal these days, really. Cookie Monster vocals suck, over-produced earsplosions suck, trying to sound as beyond grind-y and brutal as possible sucks. I'm still confused as to why people like Mastodon so much. Have you actually heard that dude's voice? Like, actually listened to it? Like, seriously?

So I guess that's why I'm so bummed with their second offering. You blew it, guys! I know you're reading this, too. So yeah. You blew it!

But alas, I should probably give it a few more spins before I spin this mother right into my garbage bin. It's like hearing the first Danzig album followed directly by Danzig 5, "Blackacidwhatthefuck?" throwing you for a total mindscrew. The sound that would escape your body would be an eerily silent, astral-projecting cry of despair. Believe you me.

But yes! Check it out! To me, the first album is really cool. And that first album is all this bad bitch needs. Yes.

Special Message from Davey Calabrese! URGENT!

He wants you, the universe, and everything in/around/near the universe to heed forth...and buy the new album. Yeah. F'reals!

This is pretty cool, and definitely something we're gonna make a habit of ever since Davey got one of those pretty lookin' flip-cameras. Aside from the usual "behind the scenes!" nonsense like touring, band practice, etc, we'll be making weird, oftentimes unecessary videos of whatever we deem absolutely the most hilarious thing in the world when we're drunk together. Yeah, you know it's gonna get good. Nasty good.

Friends, we're doing it for you. Okay, and we're doing it for ourselves and our ever-growing egos, too. Who doesn't wanna see themselves on youtube?!

This segment, though, is really begging to be called, "Davey's Corner," or "Intimate Sessions with D. Calabrese," or something. Oh man.

Les doo eet!

OUTTAKES.

As you can imagine, any new album will bring a slew of new, sexy shots for a band. You need to get yourself out there, truly brand yourself with the go-to image of the band. Over the years, we've taken multiple routes, but we're slowly figuring that the best possible scenario is to get as many photos in as possible. Just give ourselves way too many options, allowing us to slowly add the cream of the crop to the interwebs.

We wanted "Motorhead," we got, "Walker Texas Ranger."

Yeah, we're right in the middle of a photoshoot. Another one. Andy Hartmark, our good friend and reluctant slave to our wild and inane backdrop/location ideas, took the helm and knocked out another solid set of photos with us. We twinkled our eyes, we pursed our lips in the highest, Jersey-Shore-form and we did it up. Did it up hard.

Now, I know I've done something like this before. It's a pretty cheap way to clock in this week's blog, but what can you do? This is a good chance to show the rest of the pics that never made it through, the ones we couldn't all decide on as a group. So yeah, you're absolutely right. I'm saying "fuck that!" and posting them now. I love my blog! Ha!

We took these photos at an Arizona scream park type deal. Andy, our main main with a plan, took these shots. So if you always thought this set sucked, blame him. If you think it's awesome, well then, blame me. I express myself through my eyes.
It was in the late morning, before it was to open up for the night, and was entirely deserted, save for all the props and costumes lying about. There were enough demon clowns and bloody entrails to last you a lifetime I'll tell you what. So what with living in Arizona, the entire place had that "western" feel to it, like a horror movie starring Billy the Kid as an axe murderer. It was pretty cool, and as you can tell, we took some shots in dusty saloons, old-timey storefronts, creepy-viney-walls, etc. Keep in mind, this was in the middle of the day, and with the sun burning our faces off, we nearly shit ourselves. Calabrese photos...in the daytime?! There was no way we'd be posing under, near or around direct sunlight. It just throws off the vibe, you know? Good thing Andy had an ace firmly up his sleeve. An ace called "post-editing Photoshop."
Enjoy!

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!

Darkness Warrior!

I thank Davey for this post. He kindly took it upon himself to wade through the aisles of the dollar store, stocking up on God knows what, thinking about the massive savings that were to come, but about me, too. He picked out some fun shit and gave me some great blog material with it. He gave me a reason to spend a Wednesday night staring into the computer screen. He gave me a Darkness Warrior:

Nothing says fun like a weird, cheap knock-off of...something you can't quite put your finger on! I've stumbled upon rip-off Spiderman junk, GI Joe crap and some Transformers-esque stuff, which has been some of my favorite. I got a really cool, shiny black robot the size of my head, that looked like a cross between Gundam Wing and a Decepticon riding in the Hell's Angels. It was a one of a kind find, which eases the pain after knowing my reputation has just been flushed down the toilet after referencing Gundam Wing. Well, it was a good run!

This product here, well, okay...this ain't an obvious recreation of another more popular series of toys. None that I can think of, really. Nope, none whatsoever.

Well, fuck me.

Honestly, I never even thought of the Skeleton Warrior figures (which is so awesome oh my God oh my God!) but yeah, total rip. But to save face, I was thinking more that this came straight from "Army of Darkness," or "Clash of the Titans." A dirty skeleton in Knights of the Round Table garb, set up with enough shields and plastic swords to give you and your demanding habit of cross-breeding your other toys' weapon arsenals a solid run for it's money. I so know I'm giving my Han Solo a barbarian, battle axe later tonight.

So it's settled. This clearly and easily wins, "Best Dollar Store Find."

Also, "Dollar Store Find I'm Likely to Quickly Lose on My Desk, Never to be Thought About Again."

I gave him two war-weapons, 'cause I never believed in that "shielding yourself" philosophy. Ah, not really. I kinda just feel a walking, talking bone machine of death needs two killing devices. It's more than a designer decision -- it just feels right. Who ever said I wasn't good at feng shui?