In Brevity: Some Enchanted iTunes Evening
It goes like this: “You give me money and I’ll give you ABC.”
Rarely, however, does ABC live up to the hype. Rarely is it even a dim shadow of what you were led to believe. This is the essence of the art of selling: Always Be Cheating.
Even better is when they say: “Give us money and we’ll give you something we can’t be bothered to define.” That’s when they cackle with glee. You don’t even get the false promises and lies.
Take iTunes for example.
Happy Holidays from the Abyss
Rare first edition misprint containing the word “Christmas.” Mint in package. Because who would open that shit?
I recently updated by bio to include “singer” and “songwriter.” My dishonesty is your pain. This is where you pay for tuning in.
Behold, the newest member of the Abyss family. A humble little ditty called “My Christmas Song.” Be advised: You should not listen to this.
Fun fact: I was channeling Burl Ives when I laid down the vocal tracks.
Now please enjoy this, my gift to you. It’s the gift of time in the form of one minute of your life you’ll never get back.
Happy holidays!
The Year In Re-Doo-Doo
I ain’t got the time or the inclination to make another year in review video. Maybe next year. Until then I’m recycling this garbage from two years ago. Use your God-given powers of imagination and relive 2014 Shouts From The Abyss classic moments like these:
Emperor OS
I gave my computer some instructions and walked away. Bad move. Does not compute. Syntax error. Non sequitur.
“How dare you show your back to me!” the computer raged indignantly but passive-aggressively. That must be why it remained silent. It knew damn well what it was doing.
Working. Commit. Execute. Hey, little girl. Wanna see my update?
I don’t know why my computer calls me “little girl” but whatever. I kind of like it.
King Macklemore And The Game Of Thrones
The #poop tag comes back with a vengeance. –Ed.
You just can’t invent stuff like this. King, a county in Washington state, released a music video imploring the public to not put anything in the toilet except “human waste.” Swoon. I may have found a new home. Their song is a parody of Macklemore’s smash hit Thrift Shop.
I admit I’d never heard the song Thrift Shop. I admit I’d never heard of anyone named Macklemore. Is that his first or last name? Or is this a single-name-situation like Madonna, Prince, Sting and Digit?
In an urge to write a post about this parody song, I turned to Google to find a suitable image to adorn my writings. What? Macklemore also did a song about toilets?
Holy shitcans! Sometimes life can be funny. Behold, Simba, the circle of life! Everything goes full circle. Like water swirling down a drain.
But wait. The circle doesn’t end there. This circle has got levels replete with layers, yo.
As far as I can tell, Macklemore is turd. Turds go in toilets. That’s exactly what King County wants you to know. Further, their parody song riffs on the word “fucking” by replacing it with “flushing.” Yes, a government did this. And, finally, to bring it all back home, in his spare time, Macklemore raps about toilets.
Circle. Full. Flush. Repeat.
No crap about it, this could amuse me all day long. And, in an ironic twist of fate, some have criticized the $123,000 spent on the music video as governmental waste. Cover Oregon had their own famous example of this. Has the King of Waste finally been dethroned? (Reportedly $2.9 million was spent on the Cover Oregon TV and radio spots.) Rocky King, the former executive director of Cover Oregon, said that urgent time frames drove the need for the expensive campaigns. They didn’t have a lot of time to get the word out. Yes, King. (No relation to the county.) I told you this was all connected.
You can’t spell “crap” without R-A-P. Kick it! It’s time to tell you busters all about it!
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From Russia With Bloodhound Gang
Under my crusty shell, what is there? A creamy gooey center. Obviously.
It’s only 8am and twice already I’ve used the word “gooey” to refer to myself. Is social media great or what?
Besides the goo, you might also see the creepy place where I have some strange likes and dislikes. One of those is the Bloodhound Gang. No, do not google them. Do not look them up. They are offensive as hell. NSFW.
And yet I still enjoy their music. They make me laugh. Yes, I’m shaming myself right now.
Puerile. Juvenile. Disgusting. Vile. Sexualized. The guys do things like spend a lot of time trying to come up with rhymes for the word “vagina.” (Spoiler alert: North Carolina.)
Have you ever been clubbed over the head by a piece of music? There I was, hanging with my son in his room, and he was playing his “music” like tin foil on metal guitar strings while some talentless hack screams indecipherably. That’s not “music” in my book. Oh how he loves that shit.
But then, I became aware of something else. A song reached out and grabbed hold. The lyrics were beautiful in their simplicity. “I hope you die.” Wow. This was different. Such elegant simplicity. This was good stuff. I was hooked.
And thus began my journey of exploration of the Bloodhound Gang.
The guys recently made a “splash” on their Russian tour. Break out the Stolichnaya and play the Russian flag drinking game with me, won’t you?
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Too Many Words
Like Mozart with his “too many notes” I have been shamed by the assertion that my heretofore writings contain, and I quote, “Too many words.”
The charge, bitterly leveled by my otherwise serviceable spouse, had placed me in the uncomfortable position of scheming the proper retort.
Thus quote the author, “.”
Shouts from the Abyss 
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