I Know Who Killed Me (On twitter)

I give up. You win, twitter. Fuck you. I did what you asked me to. I deleted the bullshit tweet that made fun of Donald Jr. but I still couldn’t post. I could look around and post PM to friends but I couldn’t tweet or RT.

Why would I want to use twitter when I can’t tweet or RT? What’s the point? Fuck you.

I appealed my suspension but my appeal failed so I conceded and deleted the tweet. Fuck you. You have actual fucking Nazis and fascists on your platform. And I’m suspended. I’m now unable to tweet for another week because I tried to tweet a Kentucky state senator for talking shit to me.

Which reminds me. . . I think I know who reported me. It was not Sady Doyle. She’s now following me. I didn’t expect that. I probably agree with her on more stuff than I don’t but I’m still surprised.

I think it was my state senator Joe Bowen who reported me. Bowen is retiring at the end of this term and not a moment too soon, as he voted for the unpopular pension reform plan. Last week, I called him and Matt Castlen (my representative who also voted for the bill) frauds. While I was suspended, Bowen sent me a tweet basically calling me an internet tough guy. I tried to reply and tell him I would be glad to call him a fraud in person and I think I’ve extended my non-tweet-or-RT by another week.

Fuck that, fuck twitter, fuck Matt Castlen and double-fuck old Joe Bowen. Matt Castlen is the heir to Joe Bowen’s seat in the state senate. NO HE IS NOT. I’m voting Bob Glenn in November and I’m not even thinking twice about it.

Joe Bowen, if you have Google alerts, I’ll be glad to meet you in person to call you a fraud. You think I’m a twitter tough guy. You look you died years ago and you haven’t caught on yet.


It’s easy to be pro-life when you’re a zombie


I Regret Nothing

Today this happened. Warning: trigger words in the image below.


I’ve appealed my suspension but as of now I am suspended for the next seven days from twitter. twitter might be doing me a favor. All I have to do is delete that tweet and I can be unsuspended. No. Fuck them. twitter needs its’ users more than we need them.

I sort of enjoy the idea that Don Jr. is sitting at home going through his mentions and reporting people because he doesn’t have anything better to do. His wife left him, she took the kids. He’s sad, alone, eating takeout, crying to twitter about what the bad man said. There are actual nazis on twitter.

By the way, they can capitalize “twitter” all they want. I won’t. They don’t deserve it. And it’s not like I’m making fun of gays or the disabled. I’m making fun of Donald Jr. and his shitty dad. I should know and do better but in this case, I regret nothing.

Ohhhhh. . . it just occurred to me that I called out author S@dy D0yle for vanity searching on Reddit last night. Perhaps she is the one who went through my history and reported whatever she could scrounge up. That tweet about Don Jr up above is from May 31. It’s June 14th. You’d think somebody would have been upset about that way sooner than two weeks later.

I am could be one of the few people on Twitter who has been reported by both S@dy D0yle and G@vin Mc!nnes. I have to type it like that so it won’t crop up in their Google alerts. If you’re gonna vanity search yourself, you will have a very bad time.

America Sucks From A Shitpipe

Yesterday, celebrity chef and television host Anthony Bourdain committed suicide at the age of 61. This news coincided with a CDC study that American suicide rates have increased 25% nationwide since 1999. My home state Kentucky’s suicide rates have increased 36.8% in that time, making the commonwealth the tenth ranked in the country in suicides per capita.

In the last twelve hours I have come across some truly shitty takes as to why people are committing suicide more than they used to. It’s as if everyone raced to the computer to fire off the shittiest word salad they can conjure with barely a half-thought. Meanwhile I’ve taken about fourteen hours to conjure up this which makes this a lukewarm take.

I have a theory as to why more and more people are committing suicide in America: because this country sucks from a shitpipe.

Don’t believe me? Let’s take a look at what has happened since 1999 in this dumb fucking hellhole.

  • Gore won the election but Bush went to the White House because the fix was in from Roger Ailes and Katherine Harris
  • 9/11
  • Starting a war in the middle east that our military is still engaged in despite using obviously faked evidence as a pretext
  • This is also when we opened Gitmo
  • Hurricane Katrina
  • Increasing frequency of mass shootings
  • The economy goes tits up
  • The middle class is gradually dismantled
  • We elected Obama who ran on a platform of CHANGE but he turned out to be about 20% to the left of Bush
  • In his defense, Obama comes up with the Affordable Care Act and signs Dodd-Frank. Fortunately, his political opponents take it in stride
  • Citizens United… oh boy
  • Opiods become the new meth
  • Meth is still around, though
  • More hurricanes
  • More and more mass shootings
  • Social media makes it where we can learn all the bad news FASTER
  • Good news, gang! Gays finally have the right to get married now! Evangelist radicals take it in stride, no problem.
  • The craziest assholes get the biggest platforms
  • Alex Jones says there’s a lab where frogs are turned gay with science
  • Stagnating wages
  • Goldman Sachs, go fuck yourselves
  • Nationwide obesity and diabetes rates increase
  • Clinton won the election but Trump went to the White House because the fix was in from a massive international syndicate
  • Apparently, we are Russia’s bitch now
  • There’s a pee tape and we can’t see the fucking thing
  • You learn that a 40-hour work week at minimum wage can’t buy shit
  • Baby boomers trash you for being lazy, anyway
  • Your college loan debt is a science-fiction epic
  • That Stanford rapist was sentenced to prison for about seven minutes
  • There’s a mass shooting every other day practically
  • And a bunch of other stuff I don’t want to recall because it’s too goddamn depressing

You can start to see how American life gets on top of people. When the dissonance between your inner doom and the asshole on TV telling you that America is the greatest country that God ever invented. You look around the town where you live and see how bad things are and it doesn’t fit with the news that the Dow Jones hit a new high today. You know you’re being lied to and all you really want is two things: for somebody to be upfront and honest with you, and for someone to treat you with some humanity.

I would leave the US if I could. I don’t love it, but I can’t afford to go. It wouldn’t be the end of mine or your problems. But maybe if this was a better place, it wouldn’t exacerbate the problems you already have.

I don’t blame anyone for checking out early. They’re not weak or cowards. They’re just pressing stop on a shitty movie. We are not much better than the countries we call our enemies, in that our country does the bare minimum to give its residents a viable way of life.

My generation watched the plug get pulled on a vegetative American dream. Hopelessness and helplessness are far for the course.

I Bring Good News From My Bandcamp

I bring a sliver of good news to you in these shitty times.

My bandcamp is up and running. You can buy the Kentucky Prophet album “Beyond The Fringe” for $7.

In time I will also release other music I have made. Kentucky Prophet, Mr. Neutron, you name it. . . going all the way back to 1997. From the indie-released to the self-released to the never-released, I will finally share it with you, one piece at a time. Some of the pieces are better than others.

Technology Vs. Horse’s music is already on bandcamp but that is only part of my story.

“Beyond The Fringe” was initially self-released in 2007. Produced by DJ Cappel and Smitty, it contains fan favorites like “It’s A Wonderful Life” and “I Sell Drugs To Celebrities”.

This digital release comes with a bonus track from the “Fringe” sessions, “Valet Parking At The Polo Lounge”.

I’m finally going to let you hear my life’s work. This is exciting.

A Handsome And Intelligent Man

I’m listening to my very first EP from 1998. Egad, it’s terrible. Just kidding. It’s brilliant and amazing and I had it all figured out at such an early stage. No really, it sucks but it should suck.

The music was performed using the canned beats from a Casio keyboard. I was 19 and Marky E was 16 and neither one of us could play an instrument but what we could do… I don’t know if we could do anything, actually. We just tried. Two of the songs weren’t even written. They just happened.

We sang about rednecks, scenesters, goth kids, and cybersex. (in 1998, we couldn’t just send dick pics to each other over the phone… we didn’t have Snapchat. We had AOL.)

These songs are stupid as shit. I could still write these kind of songs if I wanted to. Just now I came up with something while waiting for something to microwave…


I’m getting gay with your dad

I’m getting gay with your dad

We’re gonna get in the truck

I’m gonna learn how to fuck

I’m getting gay with your dad





I could write that kind of shit all day every day. I’m trying to progress artistically, alright? You people don’t understand me at all.

There are hardcore Metallica fans who want to hear their earliest demos, like recordings from before their first album. Metallica is probably “what the fuck, we’re way better than that now… why do you still like our first album so damn much? Let it go.” Because the earliest stuff you do is gonna feel kid’s play compared to when you get good if you ever get lucky enough to get better at music.

At least Metallica could play guitars and stuff. This thing I did… is just a dummy with a Casio who listened to too much Dead Milkmen and Public Enemy and his friend who’s just along for the ride.

Is there any historical value to my first EP? No, of course not. I wish these were Metallica demos. I’d sell them faster than you can play the riff from “Phantom Lord”.



I Don’t Want To Wait Until November

Tomorrow is Primary day in Kentucky. I will drag myself to the poll and cast a vote on the Democrat side. Hopefully, the Democrats I vote for will win the primary and go on to win in November.

Four Dems are running for US Congress in my district, against Republican incumbent Brett Guthrie. I wish them the best of luck, for Guthrie is well-funded, and well-regarded by the local Chamber of Commerce types. Guthrie is fine for the good-ol’-boy system in this district, and why should the applecart be upset because of some upstart Dems.

Brett Guthrie votes like he’s told and takes pictures with nice people who come to his office in Washington for a meeting. He talks big about fixing the opioid epidemic and other issues relevant to our state but does little to nothing to address these problems. He sponsors bills by fellow Republican because his own rarely make it out of committee. He will not take meetings with the public. He will not hold a town hall. Once a year during the summer if you’re lucky, he’ll hold “office hours” in each county of the district. In other words, he’ll make himself available for about an hour-and-a-half in some public space during normal working hours, provided you can find him.

Have you heard of the “blue dog” Democrats? A so-called group of hardcore voters who would go so far as to vote for a dog as long as it ran as a Democrat? I would vote for a dog right now over Brett Guthrie. The dog would not vote to make it easier for mentally ill people to buy guns. The dog would not take NRA money. The dog might bark a bit loudly but that’s it. Going walkies a natural a reaction to anything that goes on in Capitol Hill.

We’re supposed to wait until November and then we’ll take back the House! And maybe even the Senate! But I don’t want to wait until November. Why would I wait until that day to take that power from these idiots? There’s a brutal stupidity going on and it effects everyone whether they realize it or not.

I feel like I don’t have that kind of time and yet I don’t know what to do.

Stuff I Want To See In The Freddie Mercury Biopic

The trailer for “Bohemian Rhapsody” was released today to the excitement of millions of fans.

I will be there opening weekend in November when the movie comes out, even though it will likely be a disappointment. Nothing against the filmmakers but music biopics tend to be royally terrible and I have no reason to think that “Bohemian Rhapsody” will be any different no matter how good the individual performances are.

Not to mention that this movie will be a drama, like most biopics. There might be a few slight laughs and some awesome moments but a lot of the focus will likely be on the personal and professional struggles of Freddie Mercury. Conveniently, the movie will end at Live Aid in 1985, six years before Mercury died of AIDS-related complications. So it will end happily, if prematurely.

The thing about rock bands is they tend to be silly and stupid when interacting with each other and the world around them. Even if they are the smartest group of people, they are in such isolation on a level of fame that they lose touch with reality. This makes their concerns way more infuriating and petty and that’s funny to me.

I want to see a funny Queen biopic. And I want it to be a cartoon. Like an adult swim cartoon. Aqua Queen Hunger Force, if you will.

Though it is far too late for reshoots, here are some scenes I would like to see in “Untitled Queen Cartoon Project (Working Title: The Band from Highlander)”.

  • 1970: Freddie suggests the band name itself “Queen”. Brian May and Roger Taylor protest. John Deacon agrees, but is rebuked as he isn’t in the band nor has he actually met the band members yet.
  • Their attempt to go to the store and buy groceries in order to cook a meal as part of a team building project after a terrible argument.
  • Upon learning “Bohemian Rhapsody” is the #1 song in the country, Queen get trapped in an elevator (this actually happened)
  • Two fans freak out upon meeting Freddie, start fighting over his scarf and nearly strangle him to death because its still around his neck (this also happened)
  • Freddie plays “We Are The Champions” on the piano for the other band members and they fell on the floor laughing (yes, really happened)
  • The infamous Bee Gees/Queen parking lot rumble of 1978, where Barry Gibb calls Queen “Abba” and Brian May promises that Queen will never ever reduce themselves to playing dance music.
  • Freddie and John Deacon get extremely drunk and accidentally record “Body Language”.
  • A scene where Freddie attempts to record songs with Michael Jackson but is disturbed MJ’s giant cocaine-snorting llama.
  • Roger Taylor invents Hot Pockets while writing “Radio Ga Ga”
  • Brian May, inspired by a screening of “Death Wish III”, writes power ballad “Who Wants To Live Forever”.

Tips About Dating From A Celibate

Have you heard about this “incel” thing? If you have, then you don’t need me to explain. If you haven’t I will not explain it to you here and I caution you to avoid looking it up because it will make you depressed about humanity. Let’s be honest, there are so many things that can dishearten us. Why add to the list unless we absolutely must?


Man and Woman. Mars and Venus. Blue and Pink. Eating laundry pods and the cinnamon challenge. A mystery as old as time and as irritating as sunburn with no aloe to put on it.

I can help you. I’m out of the game, folks. I should write a book about it and sell it or something. If Steve Harvey can do it, why not me?

There are two things you need to know in this dating life. 1. Men are trash. 2. Women aint shit.

That’s it.

Men are trash. Women aint shit. You’re welcome.

I know you’re tempted to elaborate on the many ways men are trash or the many ways women aint shit but I’m gonna have to ask you to put that on the backburner and get your dicks out of your hearts for a moment. Also, you can’t say that one is because of the other nor can you say one is true but the other is more true. You’re only making yourself more miserable when you don’t do that.

If you’re a woman and you attempt to show cause why men are more trash then women are not shit, you will give yourself a headache and accomplish nothing. The men who already know about the worst of our worstness are on your side and the ones who don’t don’t care. Be mad at the sun.

If you are a man and you attempt to deflect from the intrinsic trashiness of your kind by sharing anecdotes about women not being worth shit, you will accomplish nothing except showing women what a trashbag s.o.b. you are. Maybe you’re not a trashbag s.o.b. but you appear to be a defender of such and that’s just about as bad.

In the world of equations, we have x and y. We don’t have x but y or x because of y. Nor do we have yes x but y is worse. We only have x and y. Men are trash and women aint shit. This is no hill to die on.

Soccer Manager, Part 1: Friendlies

I’m following up on last week’s intro post about my new hobby of playing Soccer Manager 2018. I’m managing the Chicago Fire out of MLS and the team played three pre-season friendlies.

How did it go? Oooohh fine?

I mean how well can one draw and two losses be? At least it wasn’t three losses, I reckon. A preseason record of 0-1-2 with a goal differential of minus-four is not a good start.

I had a bitch of a time trying to figure out a formation. I settled on 3-4-3 midway through the first half of the first game when one of my players (Dax McCarty) was sent off with a red card. After the game, I looked up the real Dax McCarty’s career stats. He has played in MLS since 2006 and has never once been sent off with a red card. In my game, he get sent off in the 32nd minute, game one. So much for realism.

So I played a 3-4-3 which was really a 3-3-3 because McCarty is a mid-fielder and then we lost by three goals.

This makes me wonder if soccer players play games like this the way basketball players game with the NBA2K series or how wrestlers play the WWE games. I have no idea what a soccer player does to unwind, especially one who plays in the U.S.. I assume every European footballer ends up in Ibiza taking x and edging in a hot tub. Which is, y’know, one way to live.

The next game we won 2-2. I know that 2-2 is technically a draw but that’s a victory as far as I’m concerned because we actually scored goals and didn’t lose. Not to mention you don’t learn anything from victory and I didn’t learn anything from that game.

After losing the next game 1-0, I began to wonder what the real-life Fire formation is so I looked it up. It’s definitely not a 3-4-3 which I ran the entire pre-season. It’s a 4-2-3-1, which means nothing to you but to means when the season starts I’ll have the team play that formation instead even though they have no experience with it.

On the management end, I sent some scouts out to find me a new goalkeeper and some fresh meat for the youth team and I took an English forward on loan even though I didn’t know anything about him. I should scout players before I take them on.

Onward to the season! Chicago Fire 2018: We Cannot Possibly Lose Them All!

Queen in the 80s, Part 2: Hot Space

When I started this series I looked forward to it and that enthusiasm was partially warranted because I was starting off with “The Game”, a good and very popular album.

Then I realized that I would have to review the album they made after “The Game” and I started to wonder if anyone would notice if I discontinued this series about Queen studio albums released between 1979 and 1990. I’ve seen the numbers. You won’t care. But I will.

“Hot Space”, Queen’s 1982 album, contains the hit collaboration with David Bowie, “Under Pressure”. I have received a lap dance to “Under Pressure”. Not at a party by some jerk, but in a strip club by a true professional! This remains the second strangest song I’ve ever received a lap dance to (#1 being “Stan” by Eminem).

“Under Pressure” has Queen at the peak of their “The Game” success having finally become the biggest band in the world having a mindmeld with David Bowie, in the phase between the artistically successful “Scary Monsters” and the enormous commercial success of “Let’s Dance”. “Under Pressure” came out in October 1981 and made a run up the charts all over the world, remaining a classic for the vocal interplay between Bowie and Freddie Mercury and for John Deacon’s bassline (stolen outright a decade later for “Ice Ice Baby”).

Six months passed between the release of the “Under Pressure” single and the “Hot Space” album in May 1982. Whatever fans were expecting when they heard the new album, they had to be puzzled and disappointed by the sounds on “Hot Space” which were neither hot nor spacelike.

Bad albums by great artists are somehow more fascinating to me than great albums by the same just because the post-mortem contains so many possibilities. And “Hot Space” is bad.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not bad like “Lulu” or “Thing-Fish” or a late-period Urge Overkill album but “Hot Space” is incredibly disappointing. For one thing, where are the singles?

Going back to 1974’s “Killer Queen” from the “Sheer Heart Attack” long-player, every Queen album had at least one smash hit song that would keep people interested in the album it came from. Where was the smash hit for “Hot Space”? “Under Pressure” preceded the album release by a whole six months.

How did Queen promote their new album? With the release of “Body Language” as a single. Let that sink for a minute.

(WARNING: The members of Queen are fully dressed throughout this video)

“Body Language”, a Freddie Mercury composition, sounds nothing like any Queen song before or after it. I’ve never been in a gay bar but every time I hear this song I feel like I’ve walked into the wrong building and now I’m at the Blue Oyster from those Police Academy movies. It’s as if some Hollywood executive said “we need a song to play in the background while the main characters are entering a gay bar in this gritty action drama about two homophobic detectives trying to solve a string of murders”.

Amazingly, “Body Language” actually reached #11 in the US charts. I’m stumped as to how that’s even possible.

I’m looking at Wikipedia and it says that “Under Pressure” only made it to #29 in the US. Nothing makes sense right now.

There are at least two songs on “Hot Space” that sound like Freddie Mercury is the only band member present at the recording, “Body Language” and album opener “Staying Power”.

“Staying Power” starts off with a similar synth-bass/drum-machine riff to “Body Language” except Freddie Mercury erupts by shouting “LET ME SHOOOWWWW IT TOOO YOUUUUUUU, YEAHHHHHH!”

What are you showing me, Freddie?

They hired Arif Mardin to add some horns to the song. It literally sounds like Stevie Wonder horns over a half-assed metronome while Freddie Mercury wails on about “I wonder when we’re gonna make it. . . I wonder when we’re gonna stick it!” and occasionally there’s a guitar lick. “Body Language” is the gay bar. “Staying Power” is the VIP suite of that same bar.

There’s a lot of competition for worst song on this album, but “Dancer” by Brian May could very well take the cake. A wanna-be dance track that uses both the Phil Collins-esque gated-reverb snare, the song is about a guy who either can’t dance or is too timid to try. Brian plays his customary guitar solo over a synth bass rhythm but it doesn’t work. The sounds of Brian “Guitar Choir” May over the synth bass feels like a scoop of ice cream served on a circular saw blade.

Track 3 is John Deacon’s “Back Chat” and is the first time they sound like they’re all in the same room being a band making music together. It’s actually a decent piece of post-disco dance music. Slick, even. From a track listing perspective, it’s surrounded by a lot of terrible music because the next song is “Body Language”, a song that I can’t believe anyone enjoys unless it is ironically.

Closing out first side is Roger Taylor’s “Action This Day”, which struggles to cross between early-80s new wave and mid-60s r&b with its back-and-forth vocals between Freddie and a bunch of overdubbed Rogers. It’s fun for about two minutes and then it has a brief synth breakdown into a drunk-sounding sax solo. Given the circumstances of this album’s recording, I would not be surprised if the band met the sax player at a bar and dragged him in after it closed to cut a solo. For all we know, Roger loaded up on vodka and farted out the sax part himself.

“Put Out The Fire” is next, written by Brian May and inspired in part by the murder of John Lennon outside his NYC apartment in 1980. Years later, Brian admitted to recording the solo drunk after many failed attempts to get it right. To be fair, most of this album sounds like it was recorded under the influence of vodka, cocaine and/or exhaustion. I wish this track was better than it is because the best thing about it is the poignant transition from its final notes to the opening bells in Freddie’s “Life Is Real (Song For Lennon)”.

For the first ninety seconds, “Life Is Real” is a note-perfect Lennon homage until the guitars come in when you’re reminded that oh yeah this is Queen but even the lyrics are blunt in a Lennon-esque way (“Success is my breathing space/I brought it on myself/I will price it, I will catch it/I can take it or leave it/Loneliness is my hiding space/Breastfeeding myself/What more can I say?”) Mercury as Lennon-by-proxy or speaking about his celebrity life while musically cosplaying. It actually works.

You’ll have to excuse me if I get a small laugh out of Roger Taylor titling a song “Calling All Girls” and putting on the same album with some of Freddie Mercury’s most blatant peacocking. Freddie Mercury calling all girls. The song is fine. Incredibly, it was released as a single and the follow-up to. . . you guessed it, “Body Language”.

That just makes it funnier.

“Hot Space” is also the beginning of the band’s concept music video period. Before then, Queen videos were typically mimed performance whether they were on a stage or in Roger Taylor’s garden (where the videos for “We Will Rock You” and “Spread Your Wings” were shot).

“Body Language” featured the band surrounded by half-naked, sweaty dancers. Freddie dances with some large black women and one of the fat black women falls into a giant bachelor party cake. “Calling All Girls” features the band in a parody of George Lucas’s “THX 1138” where the band rebel against robot guards. Freddie IS THX 1138! In “Back Chat”, the band is in some sort of dystopic disco factory filled with steam and Freddie is modeling leisure wear.

Just realized that “Calling All Girls” is way more pathetic than I remember it being just for its sad attempts to recapture the magic of “Under Pressure”. The opening lyrics are “Calling all boys, calling all girls, calling all people on streets around the world.”

Then a seven-note guitar lick comes in that is vaguely reminiscent of the “Pressure” bassline. If I have it right, it is A A A A G G B while “Pressure” is D D D D D D A but to do that right after the “people on streets” reference has to be intentional.

Lastly, the wailing “love” that begins every chorus. Is it meant to be a inward version of Bowie’s echoey “love” from “Pressure”? I don’t even want to listen to this song anymore, let alone pick it apart. It’s like the band is saying “Remember that great song we did last year, remember how great that was?” Shame on them.

Two more songs round out the album. “Las Palabras De Amor (The Words Of Love)” by Brian May and “Cool Cat” a Deacon/Mercury co-write. “Palabras” is an ode to the band’s South American fans, having toured there for the first time ever the previous year. It’s the best of the three May songs here.

“Cool Cat” is one of the most hated Queen songs by Queen fans themselves. Something about it drives them nuts. It’s not very Queen, musically. Then again, nothing on “Hot Space” is Queen-esque. This is the last track and maybe Queen diehards hate it because  the realization kicks in that whatever hopes they had for this album. There’s no late-inning saving grace where everything comes back to Queen-land and we’re all better off than when we started. Nope.

On its’ own merits, “Cool Cat” is a fine song. It’s smooth, such that the guys from Yacht Rock gave it their approval on their podcast “Yacht Or Nyacht”. They gave it a 54% which means it is sufficiently smooth enough to be allowed “on the boat”. In other words, Queen made a song that verged on yacht rock and their fans still hate it. Seriously, there are fan polls and that song is always at the top of the list.

AND THEY ARE WRONG. “Cool Cat” is the only good song on “Hot Space”. It is the only song that does what it set out to do in the first place. The band attempted to make an album that explored black music: r&b, disco, funk, soul. Brian May wanted to keep rock elements involved in the mix while trying these new sounds out, which is why “Back Chat” has a guitar solo in it. There’s no Brian on “Cool Cat”, therefore Deacon gets to do whatever he wants and Freddie sings his heart out.

Oh, after all that “Under Pressure” is tacked on at the end, which is almost a slap to the genitals after everything the listener has been through. Ten songs, many of them failed genre experiments, some of them flat embarrassing but at the end here’s this song that’s not only good it’s a classic. Fuck you.

I agonized over writing this. I’ve spent way more words on this lousy album than I did “The Game” which is a bonafide classic. In my next entry in the series, I hope to get the word count back down, but it’s highly unlikely because I don’t know if you know this. . .

. . . but all we hear is radio ga ga, radio goo goo, radio ga ga.

Ooh boy.