And it had started as such a good day …

Yesterday I had a day off during mortuary college finals and it was raining like a pure bitch, so I spent the AM sipping gin & lemonade, blasting my old Weakling and Antiseen cassettes, and watching Webe Web videos. (By the by, to Allison, Sherri, Marie and all my girls: I miss the shit out of y’all and hope you’re doing well. Hit me up with news about the case, K? K.) Regrettably, I decided that a very brief spate of industriousness would make my sloth even more delicious, so I brushed the beagles (NOT a euphemism) and threw on some CDs from the review pile.

And that’s when it happened …

I had created such a comfortable, human headspace that the Lordi album literally hurt my feelings and kind of made me wanna cry. It’s that insupportable.

The hype surrounding this group of treacherous and nasty Finns completely mystifies me. (And by the by, I need to know a racial slur for Scandinavians. I don’t guess I’ve ever heard one, and “herring-eating cocksucker” seems awfully unwieldy.) Lordi are basically GWAR impersonators who play the shittiest “rock” songs that Turbonegro never had the stupidity to mis-write. And they have the balls to fucking say they’ve never heard of GWAR. If you read any music magazines, you’ve seen their pictures. So, like, you be the judge, K? K.
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“The Man can’t bust our Music,” brothers and sisters. Trust me, don’t let Lordi hurt your feelings and make you wanna cry.

[Visit the band's website]

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