My dog knows me by sight. She knows my pickup, too. She recognizes it when I come up the driveway. She also knows my mother-in-law’s car by sight.

Bud Light is not beer. It’s a travesty, merely a cheap imitation of what beer is supposed to be. It’s piss water right out of the container, before it goes through your kidneys. Even before that pretentious weirdo became its spokes “person,” I would not have even used it to put out my hair if it was on fire.

The main reason it became as popular as it was, aside from the cheap price, was marketing. Quality, body, and flavor has had absolutely nothing to do with why it was at the top of the heap. It’s effect beer; people drink it for the effect, not for the taste or mouth feel.

And then, they had to promote up a Peter Principle candidate to head the Bud Light division, someone who thought she was smarter than anyone else in the room.

Anheuser-Busch got what it deserved when it entrusted the fate of perhaps the most profitable product in their line-up to a 4th wave feminist social justice hack.

She was definitive proof that education does NOT equate to intelligence.

No pics necessary. That’s normal scrotal behavior. Your nuts need to be a few of degrees cooler than your body to function properly for sperm production. Nothing unusual about that at all.

I’ve never measured them, but a kid two years older than me told me mine were big in the junior high boys locker room after gym class back in the mid 70s.

“Under My Wheels” - Alice Cooper

The telephone is ringing
You got me on the run
I'm driving in my car now
Anticipating fun

I'm driving right up to you, babe
I guess that you couldn't see, yeah-yeah
But you were under my wheels, honey
Why don't you let me be?

'Cause when you call me on the telephone saying
"Take me to the show"
And then I say "Honey, I just can't go
Old lady's sick and I can't leave her home"

Telephone is ringing
You got me on the run
I'm driving in my car now
I got you under my wheels

I got you under my wheels
I got you under my wheels
Got you under my wheels, yeah-yeah
I got you under my wheels

Ahh!

Telephone is ringing
You got me on the run
I'm driving in my car now
Anticipating fun

I'm driving right up to you, babe
I guess that you couldn't see, yeah-yeah-yeah
But you were under my wheels, honey
Why don't you let me be? Yeah-yeah

Got you under my wheels, yeah-yeah
I got you under my wheels, wheels, wheels
Got you, got you, got you, got you, got you
Got you, got you, got you, got you, got you
Got you, got you, got you, got you, got you, got you

Under my wheels, got you under my wheels
Wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels
Wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels
Wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels
Wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels, wheels

No one knows I’m posting dick pics on this site!

Hard cocks and pussy lips, all day long!

“Go To Hell” - Alice Cooper

For criminal acts and violence on the stage
For being a brat
Refusing to act your age
For all of the decent citizens you've enraged
You can go to Hell
For g@mbling and drinking alcohol constantly
For making us doubt our parents authority
For choosing to be a living obscenity
You can go to Hell

You're something that never should have happened
You even make your Grandma sick
You'd poison a blind man's dog and steal his cane
You'd gift wrap a leper
And mail him to your Aunt Jane
You'd even force-feed a diabetic a candy cane
You can go to Hell

You're something that never should have happened
You even make your Grandma sick
For criminal acts and violence on the stage
For being a brat
Refusing to act your age
For all of the decent citizens you've enraged
You can go to Hell

“Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word” - Elton John

What do I got to do to make you love me?
What do I got to do to make you care?
What do I do when lightning strikes me?
And awake to find that you're not there

What do I do to make you want me?
What do I got to do to be heard?

What do I say when it's all over?
Sorry seems to be the hardest word
It's sad (so sad) so sad
It's a sad sad situation

And it's getting more and more absurd
It's sad (so sad) so sad
Why can't we talk it over?
Oh, it seems to me that sorry seems to be the hardest word

It's sad (so sad) so sad
It's a sad sad situation
And it's getting more and more absurd
It's sad (so sad) so sad
Why can't we talk it over?
Oh, it seems to me that sorry seems to be the hardest word

What do I do to make you love me?
Oh-oh-oh
What do I got to do to be heard?

What do I do when lightning strikes me?
What have I got to do?
What have I got to do?
When sorry seems to be the hardest word

Oh, I would, most definitely! It’s a fantasy I’ve had since I was 16! I even dreamed about it one night.

If I could suck my own cock, I’d never leave the house!

“Some Girls” - The Rolling Stones

Some girls give me money
Some girls buy me clothes
Some girls give me jewelry
That I never thought I'd own

Some girls give me diamonds
Some girls, heart attacks
Some girls I give all my bread to
I don't ever want it back

Some girls give me jewelry
Others buy me clothes
Some girls give me children
I never asked them for

So give me all your money
Give me all your gold
I'll buy you a house back in Zuma beach
And give you half of what I own

Some girls take my money
Some girls take my clothes
Some girls get the shirt off my back
And leave me with a lethal dose

Yeah
French girls they want Cartier
Italian girls want cars
American girls want everything in the world
You can possibly imagine

English girls they're so prissy
I can't stand them on the telephone
Sometimes I take the receiver off the hook
I don't want them to ever call at all

White girls they're pretty funny
Sometimes they drive me mad
Black girls just wanna get fucked all night
I just don't have that much jam

Chinese girls are so gentle
They're really such a tease
You never know quite what they're cooking
Inside those silky sleeves

Give me all you money
Give me all your gold
I'll buy you a house back in Zuma beach
And give you half of what I own

Yeah, baby, why don't you please come home?

Some girls they're so pure
Some girls so corrupt
Some girls give me children
I only made love to her once

Give me half your money
Give me half your car
Give me half of everything
I'll make you world's biggest star by half

So give me all your money
Give me all your gold
Let's go back to Zuma beach
I'll give you half of everything I own

“Hooker With A Penis” - Tool

I met a boy wearing Vans, 501s
And a dope Beastie tee, nipple rings, new tattoos
That claimed that he was OGT
Back from '92, from the first EP

And in between sips of Coke, he told me
That he thought we were selling out
Layin' down, suckin' up to the man

Well now, I've got some advice for you, little buddy
Before you point the finger, you should know that I'm the man
I'm the man, and you're the man, and he's the man as well
So you can point that fuckin' finger up your ass

All you know about me is what I've sold ya, dumb fuck
I sold out long before you'd ever heard my name
I sold my soul to make a record, dipshit
And then you bought one

I've got some bad advice for you, little buddy
Before you point your finger, you should know that I'm the man
If I'm the fuckin' man, then you're the fuckin' man as well
So you can point that fuckin' finger up your ass

All you know about me is what I've sold ya, dumb fuck
I sold out long before you'd ever heard my name
I sold my soul to make a record, dipshit
And then you bought one

All you read and wear or see and hear on TV
Is a product begging for your fat-ass, dirty dollar
Shut up and buy, buy, buy my new record
And buy, buy, buy, send more money

Fuck you, buddy
Fuck you, buddy
Fuck you, buddy
Fuck you, buddy

“Eight Miles High” - The Byrds

Eight miles high, and when you touch down
You'll find that it's stranger than known
Signs in the street, that say where you're going
Are somewhere just being their own

Nowhere is there warmth to be found
Among those afraid of losing their ground
Rain gray town, known for its sound
In places, small faces unbound

Round the squares, huddled in storms
Some laughing, some just shapeless forms
Sidewalk scenes, and black limousines
Some living, some standing alone

“Begin the Beguine” - Cole Porter

When they begin the beguine
it brings back the sound of music so tender,
it brings back a night of tropical splendor,
it brings back a memory ever green.
I'm with you once more under the stars,
and down by the shore an orchestra's playing
and even the palms seem to be swaying
when they begin the beguine.
To live it again is past all endeavor,
except when that tune clutches my heart,
and there we are, swearing to love forever,
and promising never, never to part.
What moments divine, what rapture serene,
till clouds came along to disperse the joys we had tasted,
and now when i hear people curse the chance that was wasted,
i know but too well what they mean;
So don't let them begin the beguine
let the love that was once a fire remain an ember;
let it sleep like the dead desire i only remember
when they begin the beguine.
Oh yes, let them begin the beguine, make them play
till the stars that were there before return above you,
till you whisper to me once more,
"darling, i love you!"
and we suddenly know, what heaven we're in,
when they begin the beguine

Consider this: two guys hanging out and doing things together is not suspicious. You could be watching sports, playing video games, or…..

See where I’m going here?

Hanging out with a woman who is not your wife can be very suspicious, however. But, two buddies hanging out? Not many people will bat an eye at that.

As for me, if I had the opportunity to “hang out” with a very good friend (someone I know, like, and trust), I’d be all over that like ugly on an ape. I don’t see it as cheating. I see it as two friends sharing a common interest: the love of dick.

Doinking a woman who is not your wife is cheating, one hundred per cent. There is no argument there. But, jacking off your buddy and sucking his dick? That’s not cheating, by any means, as far as I am concerned. That’s two guys doing something fun together.

It just happens to involve cock.

Scientific studies have shown that the average length of an erect human penis is 13 centimeters. That’s 5 inches, for the Americans.

It’s not small. It’s normal.

The Left are taking us to feudalism, not the capitalists. Everything the Left have done in the past thirty years or so is aimed at turning free citizens into subjects who will live by the leave of the New Peerage. The Left want economic serfs.

The worst of these Leftist feudalists are the members of the WEF. These billionaire elitists are the main culprits. They are attempting to eliminate economic self-determination for everyone outside their neo-Leftist elite inner circle.

Everyone else outside this circle who advocates for Socialism, believing it to be a panacea to allegedly cure all the world's ills, are nothing more than the latest version of Lenin’s useful idiots. Every nation that has attempted to establish the varying degrees of Socialism have quietly backed away from it after it had, time and time again, failed to live up to its promises.

Pure Socialism is impossible. That’s why no one has ever attempted it.

The problem with Socialism is that it ignores human nature. People like to have nice stuff. They do not want to have to ask anyone else for permission to get it.

People also don’t want to support leeches who refuse to contribute anything back into the economy. Forcibly distributing the fruits of someone’s labor to others who only take and who give nothing back is theft, and it guarantees the collapse of any country that attempts to practices the purist forms of this theft: Marxist Socialism.

But of course, I’m sure you’ll have the mental gymnastics sufficient to come up with a justification as to how wrong I am for being against the overt coercive theft of someone else’s property gained through their own labor.

Pure unadulterated crap and TDS. Get a hobby and stop letting him live rent free inside your head.

“Gut Feeling” - Devo

Something about the way you taste
Makes me wanna clear my throat
There's a message to your movements
That really gets my goat

I looked for sniffy linings
But you're rotten to the core
I've had just about all I can take
You know I can't take it no more

I got a gut feeling
I got a gut feeling
I got a gut feeling, feeling

Centered 'round long time ago
On your ability to torment
Then you took your tongs of love
And stripped away my garment

I looked for sniffy linings
But you're rotten to the core
I've had just about all I can take
You know I can't take it no more

I got a gut feeling
I got a gut feeling
I got a gut feeling, feeling

I got a gut feeling
I got a gut feeling, feeling
I got a gut feeling
I got a gut feeling, feeling

I got a gut feeling
I got a gut feeling, feeling
I got a gut feeling

Slap your mammy down
Slap your pappy down again
Slap your mammy down
Slap your pappy down again

Slap your mammy down
Slap your pappy down again
Slap your mammy down
Slap your pappy down again

Slap your mammy down
Slap your pappy down again
(Oh, move it up and down now)
Slap your mammy down
Slap your pappy down again
(Oh, move it all around now)

Slap your mammy down
Slap your pappy down again
(Oh, move it up and down now)
Slap your mammy down
Slap your pappy down again, oh yeah
(Oh, move it all around now)

“Look Sharp!” - Joe Jackson

Big shot, tell you what
Tell me what goes on round here
Go on and get me in the corner
Smoke my cigarettes and drink my beer
Tell me that this world is no place for the weak
Then you can look me in the eye
And tell me if you see a trace of fear

You gotta look sharp
You gotta look sharp
And you gotta have no illusions
Just keep going your way looking over your shoulder

Okay, what you say
Tell me what they're wearing this year
Go on and laugh at me causeyou don't see
That I got something going right here
Say I'm just a dreamer
Say I'm just a kid
Well ace, shut your face
Maybe you will see or hear

You gotta look sharp
You gotta look sharp
And you gotta have no illusions
Just keep going your way looking over your shoulder

Big shot, thanks a lot
Gotta go it's getting late
I got a date with my tailor now
Thanks for putting me so straight
Tell me how they run the crime on every street
(La-la-la, la-la-la-la-la-la-la)
But check your watch and wallet now
Before I go and your too late
(Uh, huh-huh)

You gotta look sharp
You gotta look sharp
And you gotta have no illusions
Just keep going your way looking over your shoulder

Yeah

“Hell Is For Children” - Pat Benatar

They cry in the dark, so you can't see their tears
They hide in the light, so you can't see their fears
Forgive and forget, all the while
Love and pain become one and the same
In the eyes of a wounded child

Because hell, hell is for children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell, hell is for children
And you shouldn't have to pay for your love
With your bones and your flesh

It's all so confusing, this brutal abusing
They blacken your eyes, and then apologize
Be daddy's good girl, and don't tell mommy a thing
Be a good little boy, and you'll get a new toy
Tell grandma you fell off the swing

Because hell, hell is for children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell, hell is for children
And you shouldn't have to pay for your love
With your bones and your flesh
No, hell is for children

Hell, hell is for hell
Hell is for hell, hell is for children

Hell, hell is for hell
Hell is for hell, hell is for children

Hell, hell is for hell
Hell is for hell, hell is for children

Hell is for children
Hell is for children

There he is! Lovely!

This was the very first music video I ever saw, long before MTV was a thing. It was on some now-forgotten late night show that came on after SNL on network television, on a station out of Detroit. Still one of my favorites!

Ah, the Italian girl from Bay City.

“Immigrant Song” - Led Zeppelin

Ah!
Ah!
We come from the land of the ice and snow
From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow

The hammer of the gods
Will drive our ships to new lands
To fight the horde and sing and cry
Valhalla, I am coming

Oh, we sweep with threshing oar
Our only goal will be the western shore

Ah!
Ah!
We come from the land of the ice and snow
From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow

How soft your fields so green
Can whisper tales of gore
Of how we calmed the tides of war
We are your overlords

Oh, we sweep with threshing oar
Our only goal will be the western shore

So now you'd better stop
And rebuild all your ruins
For peace and trust can win the day
Despite of all your losing

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh

“It’s a Mistake” - Men At Work

Jump down the shelters to get away
The boys are cocking up their guns
Tell us, general, is it party time?
If it is, can we all come?

Don't think that we don't know
Don't think that we're not trying
Don't think we move too slow
It's no use after crying

Saying it's a mistake
It's a mistake
It's a mistake
It's a mistake

After the laughter has died away
And all the boys have had their fun
No surface noise now, not much to say
They got the bad guys on the run

Don't try to say you're sorry
Don't say he drew his gun
They've gone and grabbed old Ronnie
He's not the only one

Saying it's a mistake
It's a mistake
It's a mistake
It's a mistake

Tell us, commander, what do you think?
'Cause we know that you love all that POWER
Is it on then, are we on the brink?
We wish you'd all throw in the towel

We'll not fade out too soon
Not in this finest hour
Whistle your favourite tune
We'll send a card, and flower

Saying it's a mistake
It's a mistake
It's a mistake
It's a mistake

It's a mistake (it's a mistake)
It's a mistake (it's a mistake)
It's a mistake (it's a mistake)
It's a mistake (it's a mistake)

It's a mistake (it's a mistake)
It's a mistake (it's a mistake)
It's a mistake (it's a mistake)
It's a mistake

This was the original reason I started taking photos of myself, starting back in the early 80s. I had access to darkrooms back then, and I pretty much took more black and white photos of myself with my 35mm camera than pretty anything else. I started doing color slides back in 1985. I wish I still had them.

“Call of the West” - Wall of Voodoo

He got the high sign so he jumped the bus
On the roads and why not through
The hot Mojave and the Jericho
He start his whole life anew
And what he'd left behind he hadn't valued
Half as much as some things he never knew

Right around sundown
He got dropped off on a street in town
Where a grey old man looked him up and down and said
"Son, this ain't no western movie matinee
You're a long way off from yippie yi yay

'Cause I can tell at a glance you're not from around these parts
Got a green look about you and that's a gringo for starts
Sometimes the only thing a western savage understands
Are whisky and rifles, and an unarmed man like you
You gotta keep on the move
Don't let that fancy paint job fool you"

Then an old-timer pulled him close and said
"You've come a long way, I know
You got a longer drive ahead
Through the bones of the buffalo
Through the claims of the western dead

And just like the spokes of a wheel
You'll spin 'round with the rest
You'll hear the drums and the brush of steel
You'll hear the call of the west, call of the west
You'll hear the call of the west, call of the west"

Harshly awakened by the sound of six rounds of light caliber rifle fore
Followed minutes later by the booming of nine rounds from a heavier rifle
But you can't close off the wilderness
Heard the snick of a rifle bolt, found himself peering down the muzzle of a weapon
Held by a drunken liquor store owner

"There's a conflict," he said
"There's a conflict between land and people
The people have to go, they've come all the way out here
To make mining claims, to do automobile body work
To gamble, to take pictures, to not have to do laundry, to own a minibike
To have their own CD radios and air conditioning
And good plumbing for sure

To sell time, life books and to work in a deli
To have some chili every morning
Maybe, maybe to own their own gas stations again
To take drugs and have some crazy sex
But above all, above all, to have a fair shake
To get a piece of the rock and a slice of the pie
And to spit out the window in your car
Not have the wind blow mess with your face"

Down from the high timberline to the desert's drive
Who'll risk dangling on some hangman's tree
To stake their claims on these prairie plains
While they say this lunch is not had for free?
Just like the spokes of a wheel
Who'll spin 'round with the rest?
They'll hear the drums and the brush of steel
And I'll hear the call of the west, call of the west

Yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo
I'll hear the call of the west, call of the west
Yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo
I'll hear the call of the west, call of the west

Yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo
I'll hear the call of the west, call of the west
Yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo
I'll hear the call of the west, call of the west
Yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo

I used to be somebody (yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo)
I used to be somebody, you hear me?
Do you hear me? (Yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo)
I've been there, I used to be somebody, goddamn you
I've been there before, don't walk away (yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo)
(Yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo)
(Yippie-yi-yo, yippie-yi-yo, yi-yay, yippie-yi-yo)

“China Grove” - The Doobie Brothers

When the sun comes up on a sleepy little town
Down around San Antone
And the folks are risin' for another day
'Round about their homes

The people of the town are strange
And they're proud of where they came
Well, you talkin' 'bout the China Grove (talkin' 'bout the China Grove)
Whoa, oh (whoa, oh), China Grove

Well, the preacher and the teacher
Lord, they're a caution
They are the talk of the town
When the gossip gets to flyin' and they ain't lyin'
When the sun goes fallin' down

They say that the father's insane
And dear Mrs. Perkin's a game
Well, talkin' 'bout the China Grove (talkin' 'bout the China Grove)
Whoa, oh (whoa, oh), China Grove

But every day there's a new thing comin'
The ways of an oriental view
The sheriff and his buddies with their samurai swords
You can even hear the music at night

And though it's a part of the Lone Star State
People don't seem to care
They just keep on lookin' to the east

Talkin' 'bout the China Grove (talkin' 'bout the China Grove)
Whoa, oh (whoa, oh), China Grove