Posts Tagged silkk the shocker
In a bold move to show his willingness to commit to bipartisan solutions in 2015, President Obama has announced he is sacking FDA Commissioner, Margaret “Quarter Pounder” Hamburg, and giving control of the FDA to none other than G.G. Allin.
Obama, who many pundits believe is trending towards complete mental and emotional collapse, has been recently observed running around the White House lawn at all hours of the night naked and bleeding while howling indecipherable song lyrics. His appointment of Allin coincides with his “Fear and Loathing” 2nd term agenda, a stark contrast to his “Hope and Change” message from six years ago.
Ever since 19 Americans contracted Ebola from eating overregulated meat products, the FDA has been under fire from Republicans and Democrats alike. Allin seems like just the man to bring sanity back to the Food and Drug Administration.
G.G.Allin faked his death in 1993 to escape the punk rock lifestyle and pursue his interests in micro pig breeding and aspartame mining. Those who knew him intimately recall that Allin was always striving to help people reconcile their differences and overcome their phobias surrounding bodily fluids and extreme cuddling.
Allin’s surprising appointment is intended to allow for less red tape and more botulized red meat for an American public who “just wants government to get out of their lives”.
According to House Speaker, John Boehner, many Republicans see this appointment as too good to take at face value, and are cautioning of a possibly more sinister agenda below the surface. Allin’s connections to the aspartame mining industry is raising a few eyebrows in Congress.
Aspartame has been a hot button issue ever since President Obama signed an executive order last year requiring a restructuring of the well known Food Pyramid. The order, commonly known as “To Aspartame A Land”, has mandated that an additional foundation to the food pyramid be added to reflect the need to consume a minimum of 10-12 servings of aspartame daily in order to maintain optimal pancreatic health.
Critics of the new food pyramid allege that Allin’s appointment may be a conflict of interests, as he owns a 93% stake in Hawaii’s aspartame mines. This questionable appointment comes only days after Michelle Obama’s Marxist school lunch program mandated that all lunches contain at least 65 percent aspartame and 10 percent spinal fluid.
Democrats that support the President’s decision to discharge Margaret Hamburg warn that Allin’s appointment could send the wrong message to the two thirds of voters who stayed home this November. With Rikki Rockett and Gene Simmons recently being tapped to hold seats in the President’s administration, liberals fear that Obama is projecting a level of instability not seen in politics since H. Ross Perot had to be forcibly gagged and carried off the stage by security guards during a 1996 Presidential debate. They are also concerned that young voters, many of which have been alienated by a corrupt and ineffective political system, will begin choosing video games and social media over direct involvement in the American political process.
Congressman Ted Cruz, the lone socialist in the Republican party, opined on the House Floor today that, “When being a musician is seen as qualifying a person to make decisions about what is safe or not safe to consume, is it any wonder that demoralized young people will throw in the towel and never believe that they too can be something in this country?”
“Isn’t it time the President focus on issues important to the American people, like restoring Christian as our official language or recognizing a corporation’s religious freedom to marry and merge with the love of their choice?”
Time will tell if Allin has what it takes to bring America back to sensible levels of fecal content in its mercury-laden flounder and free market solutions to marketing new products like genetically modified pork rinds.
Heavy metal legend Glenn Danzig is currently working on an album of covers of classic Elvis Presley songs. Danzig, who is referred to by many as Black Elvis both for his dark, Elvis-like voice and his love of New York City Hip Hop icon “Kool Keith” Thornton, has been planning to do an album in homage to the King of Rock and Roll for many years. In 2015, the album will become a reality.
Danzig, who began his singing career at age 12 as an Elvis out front of a Shoprite supermarket in Lodi, New Jersey, has modeled much of his look, attitude and trademark lip curl after Elvis. He even considered wearing a tight-fitting sequin jumpsuit during a concert in Toledo, Ohio in 1993 in tribute to his idol, but was forced to change back into a mesh shirt and black jeans by local officials who were concerned about the “hypnotizing, potentially mind-altering effect of his protruding pectoral muscles” on women in attendance.
There are literally thousands of Elvis cover albums out, but Danzig plans to cover many of the lesser-known songs by the legendary crooner. “Everyone does “Suspicious Minds” and “Jailhouse Rock”. Glenn wanted to reflect a larger body of the King’s work,” said Danzig spokesman Larry Wainwright.
Danzig plans to re-record “It Ain’t My Fault”, a B-side of the single “Hound Dog”. That song was later popularized in the late 1990s by hip-hop legends Silkk The Shocker and Mystikal. He also has created a medley of “Whomp! There It Is!/Dayzee Dukes/C’mon ‘N Ride It (Da Train)”, recorded in 1974 on The King’s oft-forgotten “Shake Dat Thang, Heffa” album.
A rumor that Sunn O))), Slash and Linda Ronstadt would be joining him for a stirring rendition of “Lawdy Miss Clawdy” has been confirmed by several anonymous sources close to Danzig. A collaboration between Danzig, Cat Stevens, Doyle Von Frankenstein, Julie Andrews, Suffocation and Jimmie “JJ” Walker, star of the 1970’s television show “Good Times”, on the song “I Forgot To Remember To Forget” is also being considered.
Reports are sketchy on what other songs might be covered, but several websites have speculated that Elvis songs like “Breadfan”, “Stone Cold Crazy” and “Die Die My Darling” will be on the record.
(The author of this article, Dirty Dave on The FM, is a cult radio legend whose show “Dirty Dave on The FM”, was syndicated in over 50,000 markets including Borneo, Guyana and Ellenville. Years back, I heard his initial interview with the reclusive Ms. Cohn and became a die-hard fan of his show. Tyranny of Tradition gave Mr. FM a $200,000 advance to gain exclusive rights to this piece, so you better read it because I had a choice to pay him for an interview with the co-star of a mostly forgotten 80’s TV show or send my children to college…and I chose this)
The sun is setting as I steam south across the tenth southern parallel. Or, to be more accurate, putter across the tenth southern parallel, because the boat I’m on resembles little more than a bathtub with an outboard motor. I had hopped aboard after landing on the tiny island nation of Kiribati that morning. The skipper, who looked like he was suffering from a mild case of [insert gratuitous current event reference here!] Ebola, assured me he could get me to my destination before sundown for the low, low price of just 100 Kiribati dollars, whatever those are. Luckily, he also happily accepted Visa, American Express, and coconuts.
So, as I said, the sun was setting, and as I didn’t say, we were down to our last tank of fuel. Along with the sun, my hope of arriving at my destination before becoming a shark snack is sinking fast. That would be an unfortunate ending to a story—indeed a mission—that began over 20 years ago.
Back then, I worked as an on-air personality for a radio station in a backwater upstate New York town. I played music, read news, and interviewed musicians. I also did a variety show consisting of all manner of flimflam and it was during one particular episode of this program that my story begins.
Despite the fact that this radio show had no redeeming value, I was approached by an agent who represented one of the most celebrated entertainment icons of our time. Apparently, this celebrity was asked by the U.S. National Archives to submit a recorded interview for posterity. The celebrity, who had shunned and condemned the mainstream spotlight for the better part of a career, agreed to the request on the condition that the interview be conducted by someone as far removed from the conventional media establishment as possible. The person, I was told by the agent, would be an amateur, a relative nobody. That person, I was shocked to learn, was me.
I couldn’t say I was completely surprised. I mean, I was the person who once dedicated an entire hour-long show to the sound of myself eating a ham sandwich.
Anyway, I readily agreed to do the interview, which would be conducted live, and it was scheduled to air the following week. Somehow, word leaked out that this major celebrity who had managed to evade the press and paparazzi for years had agreed to be interviewed on our little radio station, and within a few days there were news crews from around the world camped out all over town. At the same time, our radio station started enjoying stratospheric ratings. We were placing in the top ten nationwide. There was even a pirate radio ship off the coast of Rhode Island retransmitting our broadcasts around the world via shortwave.
On the day of the interview, I was told that the celebrity would arrive surreptitiously at the radio station by way of a network of sewer tunnels that ran under the campus. At the appointed time, with thousands of clueless members of the mainstream media mobbing every public entrance to the building, I unceremoniously came face to face with one of the most admired, venerated, and respected stars of all time. I was looking into the gifted eyes of none other than Mindy Cohn.
There isn’t a soul alive who needs an introduction to the work of Mindy Cohn. Although best known for playing the role of Natalie Green on the hit NBC sitcom The Facts of Life from 1979 to 1988, Cohn has also won a legion of adoring fans for lending her voice to the character of Velma on Scooby Doo. And who could forget her poignant portrayal of Buddy’s alcoholic sister on Charles in Charge?
Needless to say, the interview was the highlight of my career in radio. It won numerous awards from the Baseball Writers’ Association of America, placed runner-up in the Miss Serbia pageant, and was named the Short Line Railroad of the Year.
But then tragedy struck.
Before a recording of the interview could be copied and submitted to the National Archives, the original reel-to-reel tape from the studio was destroyed when the British burned Washington in 1814. Cohn claimed that her enemies were responsible, pledged never again to give another interview, and went into hiding. Although millions of listeners around the world likely recorded the interview off of the radio that night, no attempt was made to acquire any of those recordings because that would mess up the story I’m writing right now.
After the commotion died down and following my testimony at a House Select Committee hearing, I got on with my life and didn’t think much about the whole affair until recently. About two weeks ago, I received a coded message in my Lucky Charms that appeared to come from Mindy Cohn herself. She was getting older, the cipher said, and regretted not recording her story for future generations. Would I be interested in conducting another interview? No radio, no media attention, just a private meeting with a tape recorder. If I was interested, the precise latitude and longitude of her location could be found by playing Lyndon Johnson’s 1965 inaugural address backwards and listening closely at the 11-minute mark.
So here I am in the middle of nowhere. And as the coordinates on my handheld GPS inch closer to the supposed meeting place, I begin to perceive a speck of island on the horizon. Within minutes the island is close enough for me to make out some details. Volcanic. Barren. Except for the huge palace crowning the rocky crest. It’s the secluded home of Mindy Cohn.
Leaving Ebola guy with the boat, it’s dusk as I ring the doorbell under the portico of the enormous Greek Revival temple. You take the good, you take the bad… the chimes sound. As I wait, I admire the towering Doric columns that flank the front door. The craftsmanship is astounding.
It isn’t long before the large door opens and I’m greeted by the world’s most famous entertainer and the cause of so much speculation and conspiracy theory over the last 20 years.
“It’s good to see you again,” says Ms. Mindy Cohn. “Come on in.”
Inside the marble-lined foyer, I’m mesmerized by the riches I see everywhere I look. Everything is marble, mahogany, and the finest silks and there’s enough gilding to retire the entire national debt of Botswana. I’m assuming Botswana has a national debt but I don’t really know. Perhaps they are a very financially responsible people.
Anyway, Ms. Cohn leads me down the endless entrance hall and we turn left at a priceless Florentine Renaissance sculpture. “We’ll have our interview in the solarium. But first, I want to show you my collection.”
About halfway down the next hall we turn right and enter a large room lined wall-to-wall with shelves and display cases. “I’m a big American history buff,” says Ms. Cohn. “Especially presidential history. One of my passions is collecting items that once belonged to U.S. presidents. I call this my Hall of Presidents.”
On one wall are countless mementos and artifacts spanning nearly 250 years of American history. A medal once worn by General George Washington. A book belonging to James Madison. A bowtie owned by Millard Fillmore. A pair of eyeglasses used by Teddy Roosevelt.
Interesting, but I find myself drawn to the specimen jars on a far wall. What could they possible contain? And then I see. A hair sample from John Quincy Adams. Some fingernail clippings from James Buchanan. The large intestine of William Howard Taft. The brain of Jimmy Carter. Holy cow.
The solarium is quite pleasant with lots of sunlight and numerous palms and ferns and tropical plants. Arby’s: WE HAVE THE MEATS!!! Flittering around in the air are several rare species of butterfly. A Papilio arcturus lands on my shoulder. We waste no time getting down to the matter at hand and the reason I took a second mortgage out on my house to get here. The interview.
“So, is this all Facts of Life money?” I begin.
“No. Actually, it’s ER money,” says Ms. Cohn. “Most people don’t remember that George Clooney joined our cast in the later years. When he hit the big time with ER, he set up trust funds for all the Facts of Life kids. I’ve invested wisely.”
“So, tell me how it all began. How did The Facts of Life come about and how were you discovered?” I ask.
“Well, as most people know, The Facts of Life was a spin-off of Diff’rent Strokes. Charlotte Rae, who played the housekeeper on Diff’rent Strokes, was offered her own show and it was she herself who discovered me. At the time, I was working as a snake wrangler in the Mojave Desert and she offered me a job on the new show after I procured two gopher snakes and a sidewinder for her. I know that doesn’t really explain things, but let’s leave it at that.”
“I’m curious, Ms. Cohn. Do you keep in touch with the former Facts of Life cast members?” I inquire.
“Yes, I do. I speak to Nancy McKeon, Kim Fields, and the one who played Blair whose name I can never remember quite often. Even Molly Ringwald calls now and again. And Charlotte Rae flies in to visit me here occasionally.”
“She flies in? I don’t remember seeing a landing strip or a helicopter pad as we approached the island.”
“I mean, she literally flies in. She has wings,” explains Cohn.
“I see. Okay. Well, it must be nice to have such lifelong friends,” I remark.
“It is. We are all very fortunate. I mean, look at the cast of Diff’rent Strokes. I think Willis is the only one still alive.”
“I think you’re right,” I agree. “And, on the subject of Diff’rent Strokes, why did the producers of that show feel it was necessary to replace the letter “e” with an apostrophe? I mean, they weren’t saving any space in the opening credits or anything.”
“Yeah, I really have no idea,” says Cohn.
“Okay. Well, I thought I’d ask. Next question: What was up with Cloris Leachman joining the show. I mean, why?”
“Yeah, that wasn’t a good move. That decision didn’t play out well at all. I remember one time, Mackenzie Astin got lost in her spiky hair and we had to delay taping for a week.”
“That’s strange. And why did they replace the gourmet food shop with a bad imitation of the already horrid Spencer Gifts store?” I inquire.
“That happened around the time that George Clooney joined the cast. Let’s just say that the show had jumped the proverbial shark by that time. It was all about recapturing ratings,” she explains.
“What are a few of your favorite episodes from the show?” I wonder.
“Well, you know, it was a very socially responsible show. We tried to tackle issues that American kids were facing as they grew up in the eighties,” remembers Cohn. “We addressed issues like substance abuse, self-image, and physical disabilities. One of my favorite episodes was the one where Tootie begins to suffer from lycanthropy and starts devouring classmates every full moon. Kids in the eighties could really relate to those kinds of coming-of-age topics.”
“Yes, I remember that episode. That was one of my favorites, too. Another favorite was the one where Jo defends the shop from time-traveling, inter-dimensional lizard people from the year 7387. It was a very timely episode and it struck a chord with a lot of people.”
“Right! That was a very well-received episode,” recollects Cohn.
“Why did the Mets wear those awful camo uniforms this year? I mean, no disrespect to the military, but camouflage doesn’t belong on a baseball uni.”
“What do you know about the joint U.S. government-alien underground base in Dulce, New Mexico?”
“Why does my arm keep falling off?”
And so on and so forth.
“Ms. Cohn, I want to sincerely thank you for inviting me to re-conduct this interview with you,” I say. “The world will be overjoyed to hear it and it will be preserved at the National Archives for the ages.”
“Thank you for agreeing to my request and for traveling so far,” says Ms. Cohn. “I’m thrilled that my story—my legacy–will forever be known.”
“Ms. Cohn, before we conclude, may I make a request?” I ask timidly. “For reasons that will make sense to most of the people reading this story, I need to include a heavy metal reference. Will you do the honors?”
By the time I leave the island, it’s almost midnight. For some reason, Ebola guy didn’t bring any fuel for the return trip, and I think he died around nine o’clock anyway, so my host graciously arranged transportation to get me back to Kiribati. There’s a full moon rising on the eastern horizon as Charlotte Rae lifts off into the night sky with me strapped securely to her back.
About halfway to the airport, we crash into the Pacific Ocean and sink to our watery graves along with the one and only copy of the interview. Dammit.
According to former musician and current intellectual representative of about half of the Western establishment Ted Nugent, “it’s not fair. So and so. Something about guns. Black people.”
Nugent, who currently receives 50 million times more news coverage than the millions of people who die of malaria each year, went on to announce, “Obama…snort….gurgle…..blahblahblah! Black people…guns…weapons….freedom…Obama.”
Nugent, who recently received his eleventh lobotomy, became circumspect when asked on his views about gun regulations, “Welfare….food stamps….so and so…guns….guns….more guns…founding fathers…less immigrants…freedom…second Amendement…conspiracy….black people..”
Nugent, who hasn’t ruled out a run at the Presidency in 2017, has been a vocal critic of President Obama. He sees America as “a cesspool of so and so and black people. Guns…laws…freedom…food stamps…my tax dollars…more stuff to rile up people who go to Starbucks more than 3 times a week…Second Amendment…some unintelligible remark…liberals are killing unborn potential gun owners….Obama…FEMA internment camps….”
Nugent, whose new book “So and So, Blah Blah, Food Stamps, and Guns: The Liberal Conspiracy to Take Away Our Rights To Do Anything We Want Whenever We Want To Because Of Obamacare, Food Stamps and The Second Amendment” is expected out in the Fall, claimed that “for me, writing is a way to something or other, so and so, black people, Montana, liberals who want terrorists to murder kittens, unborn babies, God, country, guns, rights, freedom, the Second Amendment and beer…welfare…freedom…AK-47 assault rifles…some veiled threat against the life of the President…Christian God who hates America because of Nancy Pelosi and liberals who drink craft beers…it’s not fair.”
Nugent is expected to be back in the news saying something similar by next week. He plans on saying something similar after that. Liberal groups across the nation plan to be enraged.
It looks like the pitchfork doesn’t fall far from the tree!
After weeks of speculation about why Princess Kate has been wearing a tannis root necklace and eating raw chicken, it has been revealed by source close to the Royal Family that she is pregnant with “a child whose birth will summon a new era of wars, plague and pestilence.”
The child, who apparently was conceived by the light of a full moon during a cult ritual rendezvous with a cloven-hooved beast on a vacation on the island of Mustique, will likely take over the British throne when he reaches the age of 16. British tabloids have already begun speculating that once England is controlled by Satan, they will begin to recolonize the world in order to brand The Dark Prince’s barcode on the foreheads of all humans.
Many have speculated that the cloven-hooved beast may have, in fact, been her husband Prince William. However, the British monarchy has recently moved away from the practice of inbreeding, so the possibility of William having hooves is much lower than it would have been a century ago.
When Princess Kate officially got word of her pregnancy, her first phone call was to her Uncle Cronos (Conrad Lant). Since her marriage to William, Kate has shunned her uncle who is best known for his work in the hard rock band Venom. According to sources deep within the satanic underworld, her first words to Cronos were “Looks like our plan worked! HE shall be born! HE shall lead us! In nomine Dei nostri Satanas Luciferi, Uncle Cronos!”
The Royal Family has refused to acknowledge her relationship with the controversial metal vocalist up until today. However, Cronos has not only been invited to the baptism, but will even be allowed to dip the child’s head in the “Blood of the Elders” at the end of the service.
The “Black Mass” is tentatively scheduled for June 6th, 2015 at an undisclosed location in the Middle East. It will be attended by several heads of state, a representative of the Illuminati and will be filmed by legendary film director Roman Polanski.
When I was a kid, there was no better experience than walking around a toy store. The smell of bicycle tire rubber, metal trucks that could be transformed into omnipotent robots, GI-Joe men packaged in plastic tombs waiting to be reborn and liberated in the cause of fun, the locked bulletproof plastic case behind which Atari games were buried in case of looting. Aisles and aisles of endless possibility. Never ending fun at every turn.
Then, I became a man and put away childish things. Toy stores turned from bastions of joy to cheap consumer hells. There is no mystery left in toys for me, only price tags and the endless howling of a barbaric wolf pack of brainwashed children who have long since been figured out by the Skinner Box charlatans that wile away their days mastering the art of monetizing dreams.
Surprisingly, as my body decays from a temple of purity to a temple of doom, I have found there is another place that fills me with this same childish wonder that Toys’R’Us once provided me. That place is the local CVS in the Toco Hills section of Atlanta.
I walk through the sliding electric doors and a chill runs down my spine. I immediately make a beeline for the back of the store where the all the serious remedies are kept. I am transfixed by visions of how much I can fix. Rows upon rows of aspirins, antacids, probiotics, fiber enriched gummy bears, earwax cleaners, toenail clippers, vitamins, tooth care products, skin softeners and everything else you could possibly imagine.
The irritable stomach aisle is my favorite. A regular Disneyland for the dyspeptic. I feel an odd pride to live in a nation that has figured out so many possible ways to deal with heartburn. One of the happiest moments in the last year or so of my life was the day I discovered the new antacid flavor chews. I go through a bottle of 250 on a weekly basis. I have more calcium in me than a medium sized herd of dairy cattle. They look and taste like gigantic Skittles. But Skittles with a deeper purpose. Skittles that can alleviate the endless, lava like pain that exists deep in the smoking pit that is my stomach.
After this, I migrate over to the tooth care section. I find myself taking a particular interest in the different varieties of dental floss that come out with startling regularity. There are people somewhere in an office who spend hours upon hours brainstorming ways to obliterate the plaque that accumulates around the edges of human tooth. A life well spent, in my opinion. They have these toothpicks that have a plastic sharpened tip on one end and a small brush on the other side. I think about them constantly. I own roughly twelve packs of 500 of them, which are scattered throughout my house and car. They give me great solace, even on the darkest of days.
Depending on what nagging pain or irritation is top of mind for me guides the next fifteen minutes. Am I waking up in a cold sweat at 2 AM with the usual round of life drama induced night terrors? The sleep section offers me everything from melatonin to Valerian root to the new Nyquil sleep product (inventively called “Zzzzzz”) that makes me feel like my brain has been danced on by elves wearing soccer cleats.
My eyes are itching and my nose is watering (or something like that). Can I be cured? Certainly! A quick visit down aisle 16 will convince anyone who is paying attention that there are enough allergy medications to dam the mighty Mississippi. The true connoisseur of allergy products understands that these are usually useless and if you want to feel any comfort whatsoever, you have to get the pharmacist to go in the back and get you a batch of those pills with pseudoephedrine in them. Great stuff for allergies, but after about three weeks of the maximum dosage Mother Theresa would start firing rounds off of a Texas bell tower. I’ve been taking the stuff for close to ten years and need very little explanation as to why meth heads often lack teeth.
I find myself experiencing an odd, unexplainable form of jealousy as I walk the perimeter of the store. I still have years before I can experience things like a Sitz bath or know electronically what my glucose level is. I cannot reasonably explain spending 50 bucks on a knee or back brace. My eyeball has not been scarred and, therefore, I am in no need of the varieties of eye patches that are offered. I am denied some of the basic freedoms that people with infirmities worse than mine are allowed to experience. Still, there is so much for me that I never feel this longing for very long.
There is comfort to be found in this odd place. A strange feeling of control over one’s ultimate fate. A feeling of wild empowerment over the forces of decline and despair. Backaches, headaches, joint pain, germy hands, smelly feet, chronic everything…all curable, if only for a few hours. Relief only a transaction away.