How to Live in a Day of Moral Chaos (Shoestring)
by Jon Sarre
Damn it, the heat’s gone out again. It’s cold inside, cold and wet outside. If ya go out, ya come back in and don’t dry out cuz the furnace in the crumblin’ building I fondly call home (when the pipes and roof don’t leak and the toilet works, otherwise I refer to it as “this fucking rathole”) routinely decide to go on strike. So I’m sittin’ on the couch, chilled to the bone and wonderin’ why I can’t breathe through my fucking nose. On top of it all, I just quit smoking AND I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, I AM GONNA KILL THE NEXT MOTHERFUCKER WHO CALLS UP WITH A BRIBE TO SWITCH LONG-DISTANCE PHONE CARRIERS!!!! On the stereo at this happy moment in my life (Scene: Me shivering, sick in dirty clothes, half through yet another bottle of cheap Greek wine) is some jerk babblin’ ’bout somebody cuttin’ offa his head for Rollins, the Dead Kennedys, and the Smashing Pumpkins.
“Sure ’nuff, man,” I’m thinkin’, “Cuz somebody oughtta pay for that shit and it ain’t gonna be me.”
Luckily, Timmy’s gonna pick up the tab, cuz he’s the singer for Tweezer, who actually aren’t all that bad. They just ended up soundin’ a lot like pre-sellout Corrosion of Conformity, only smarter (or more fortunate) cuz they bought one of those vocal distortion things like the Butthole Surfers have. Still, they ain’t exactly what I wanna hear when I’m sick, or healthy… or ever.