Monday, August 29, 2011

UGH, there.

Updated on all blogs I follow save for mine...

...I follow way too man goddamned blogs. How many of you actually keep up like this? HOW can you? I feel physically exhausted, and this is from a guy who exhausts OTHERS with his 2000+ word count blogs.

So yeaaaah, fun time de yah time take de bus rai-do. I may have to prune my dashboard down is all I'm sayin'.

It doesn't help that I seem to be locked in a permanent state of rage right now. After all, why am I answering blogs (except for my own, and I DO owe you guys comment sand will be doing so after this post...just gotta take a break from commenting, y'know?) and posting new blogs and such, eh?

Because I am NOT doing five to seven days of 14 hours of work a pop. I am NOT, apparently, making that 2 grand in 3 weeks. I AM recovering from a nicely-earned muscle strain though in my right bicep and, on that note, I once again have a bicep. Not as big as my old guns, but it's a start. Anyway, this means that I AM, on the other hand, back on my "Fuck every factory and warehouse in Bellingham" mode again.

Because, no seriously...fuck every factory, warehouse and temp worker agency in this piece. I've stated it before and I understand that it's an employers market right now...but that doesn't mean that it's acceptable to screw your peoples over at the merest whim.

I won't name names, not at all...but I will honestly re-affirm my promise, my word and my honor on it, that should I EVER be lucky (yes, at this point in fucking time lucky) enough to actually own my own business I'll NEVER be like these fucking bastards.

Well...silver lining time: at least it provided me a chance to test myself physically versus standing and working for periods longer than 8 hours and against loads heavier than 50 lbs (hell, I even manhandled a 120 lb. load...and that's pretty fucking good in comparison to my recent exploits). While I did receive all sortsa issues from DOING it, I proved I was able to rock out (with Ibuprofen) for twelve hours and could've gone on for another five if need be.

Sadly enough, it did, need be.

Anyway, you get the point.

SO, I've written some new songs and such and am growling and prowling around for where I left my USB cable so I could finally hook my goddamned digital voice recorder up and possibly just record some of the songs, vocals-only. I mean I really REALLY like one of the punk ones, and I've got another horror-based one (er...metal? rock style? you'd have to hear it to know what I'm talkin' 'bout) that's kinda slow but picks up during the chorus, just really awesome shit.

Yeaaah...perhaps I'll set that sixth blog up tonight with lyrics from my "A Night of Complete Horrorshow" concept album. I've only got four suggested songs left and have completed nine (technically ten) songs already. Lyrics, not the actual making of teh musics and such...

Gah, now I'm typing like Bill Cosby talks.

Anyway, lemme know in the comment section what y'all think about me either setting up a sixth blog for my various lyrics and such, or should I just post it up on one of the current five blogs?

You DO realize I have, like, five blogs right? Yeap. Five of 'em, and I (usually) comment back on all of 'em...SPEAKIN' OF WHICH~!


How do you guys go about communicating here? Do you comment directly on your own blogs (where said commenting originated) or do you pop over to the commenter's blog and just drop a comment back with information pertaining to the original comment? How do y'all go about doing it and what's yer personal thoughts on it?

Last but not least (for now) I've got a trailer to share with ya's. Check it:

Huuuuuh, while we're at it, a couple more vidyuh for ya:


I agree with the commentary, we need more translated rap battles. That in and of itself could save the corpse that is Rap.

Friday, August 26, 2011


So yeaaaaah, for the next three weeks (or so, possibly shorter possibly longer)if I don't A) update, B) comment back, or C) do ANYTHING really, it's 'cuz I'm workin' 14-hour days.


Tired and my feet hurt,

~That Bastard

Tuesday, August 23, 2011


This is the greatest commercial on the television right now.

You're welcome.


~That Bastard

P.S. - Franz Wheat Bread is the BOMB for frying up with some sweet, unsalted butter. I'm just sayin' yo...

Friday, August 19, 2011 faggotry, fucking guitarist drama AGAIN, and a whole bunch of shit.

OH SHIT SON, a brand new Epic Rap Battle just dropped! CHECK IT:

Those faggots. Not the original guys, they rocked the fucking paunch. No, these amazingly flaming hipster faggots they currently got doing their songs.

So far they've done two songs, I do believe. I don't really care though, nor am I gonna share it here. I'm just sayin', they suck balls. Friggin' donkey balls. Hard donkey balls.


I recently got my Microsoft 20derp Certificate for Outlook, Excel, Word and Powerpoint. I don't even HAVE these programs (I used the trial versions), but I figure that it'll help make me look a bit more professional resume-wise and hopefully be able to land a office job that can work around the whole going back to school thing.

With THAT stated, I'm headin' back to school, one way or another come Winter Quarter. So yeah, who knows maybe some of y'all who follow me and happen to be in the Bellingham area'll catch me 'round (DERP) University. Sure, they're far more expensive then (DERP) Tech College or (DERP) Other College, but still...they also (apparently) offer more opportunities.

And did I mention I'm going in to get my baccalaureates in either English or Communications - Broadcasting? I'll major in one, minor in the other and I don't know which I'll be doing yet. Just gotta fill out these transcript requests and all should go down well. While I'm there I'm going to IMMEDIATELY attempt to get into KUGS radio as well as continue with my band...

Which reminds me. I recently talked to a friend of mine, crowing about how awesome everything was being (despite the practice before this phone call took place - I'll get into it in a moment) and how we were THIS CLOSE to cutting a fucking demo (again)...when the last practice came about.

Suffice it to say, we had to get the fuck outta that garage and leave yet another stoner guitarist behind.

Okay, so...this current one was doing pretty good (ish). Musically, he was progressing quickly and had three songs down in what took our old guitarist SIX MONTHS to get down. We went out of our way to excuse some of his actions (having friends walking through the garage while practicing, sometimes disappearing for ten or twenty minutes - normally for dinner, but sometimes for bullshit reasons that we just said "whatever dude" 'bout), but the practice before last the dude was gone for a fucking hour.

He was also on and off the phone talking to his weed hookup, and we had to constantly bring his concentration back to the practice because he was jonesing that bad. Even worse, he apparently owes the guy money now because he forgot we already paid his mother for the rest of this month.

No excuses: our drummer went for a coupla months without marijuana in order to get a job, and y'know what? He never broke from his self-imposed exile from Mary Jane and even though he jonesed in between songs (seriously, we kept making fun of him and it was soooo funny every time he'd get this hang dog expression on his normally pretty face) he NEVER let it affect his play or concentration!!!

Now, while he was on the phone we actually heard two different things from time to time. I heard "crystal meth" (and he looked back at us with quite the guilty look) while my drummer heard black-tar heroin or somethin' like that. Either way, shit's gettin' rocky by now, y'knowwhatImean?

So yeah, there was that. Now the last practice...get ready for it.

We get there late (it happens from time to time, y'know?), and there's four local county sheriff's cars outside his house and one of his best friends in the backseat. Apparently the guy tried to run over a bicyclist or somethin'...all I know is that we're just watchin' while more sheriffs cars show up for whatever reason, they finally do whatever it is they convened to do and take off.

The spectacle over, we get into the garage and start to practice oh wait he apparently pawned his guitar and amp in order to pay his weed hookup from last practice.


So I drive back and pick up my punk-assed guitar and we hook him into the P.A. system. Sure it sounds horrible and you can barely hear the guitar over everyone else, but we could hear it, y'knowwhatImean?

He pulls his usual (by now) business of disappearing and we polish up a song we've been bantering around for awhile ("You Make Me Feel Old." Now I just gotta write the rest of the lyrics for it...) and it sounds great with only bass, drums and vocals...but we all wanna hear what he'll do with it with guitars.

It's been a fucking hour by now.

I get his mom and we find out that he is NOT in his bedroom but, rather, is in his brother's room playing Halo and listening to Lamb of God.

Suffice it to say, that was pretty much the desert wanderer that broke the camel's dong. We at first discussed sitting him down and straightening him out, but in the end we decided to just say fuck it and pack up the drummer's drum kit and P.A. system and get it the fuck outta there.

Things were going good (only his mother was there and he himself was at work), I was even able to snag the tabs we wrote for the songs we were working on...and as I'm writing up a "the garage looks nice/we didn't leave anything behind" receipt to recognize that we had left when his mother (who doesn't realize that we're just outta there and either doesn't know or doesn't want to know about her sons' emerging drug problem and concentration issues) begins to sprinkle into our carefree banter about certain things we did not know about.

Like how his friends were, indeed, simply going in and out of the garage...which they were supposed to not be doing. Also, friends were showing up without her knowledge. People were hanging out without her finding out until later on that night.

Suffice it to say both the drummer and myself smelled a setup arising, and got his rather expensive gear the fuck outta there.

So yeah...suffice it to say, I'm kinda just peeved right now.


I've also come across a group called BIMA (Bellingham Independent Music Association) who may be able to provide us with a session guitarist so we just get five or six songs fucking recorded and up for show. We need to get this damn demo done, and I FINALLY need to provide some product to show off on derp Youtubes, y'knowwhatImean?

We still need to find a jamspace though, for all that I might have found one that I might be able to live in as well. We'll see.

Just...gah, this fucking week. I hate Mt. Vernon with a burning passion of the Christ, and am still raging at the fucked up drivers on the road.

I'm looking at you, visiting Canadians. Y'all have always been bros over the 'Net, but maaan the moment you derp hurfers get on the freeway next thing I know I gotta turn into fucking Speed Racer with my PIC's dodge dynasty and perform complicated evasions every time one of you gets it into your skull that you should go ALL THE WAY THE FUCK TO THE CITY OF TULALIP in order to get to a casino even though you passed up like three or four perfectly good ones closer to the Canadian border and out of my fucking hair.

Also, now...we all joke about Amerifats here on the Internuggets. Shit, we all know this, it's a stereotype that a rising obesity rate ain't gonna disprove, especially overnight. Y'all fatties need to step yer game up and apply a little discipline.

With THAT stated, I've been seeing more and more fat people (and I don't mean fluffy, big, thick, obese or even anything other then WHATTHEFUCKSTOPEATINGYOUFATFUCK fat) with Canuckianland license plates.

Y'all need to step yer game up if'n yer gonna keep dissin' Amurrika, Canadialand, before you BECOME us or some shit.

Time to end it on a happy note: so I've been on-again off-again when it comes to WWE. Yeah, the fake wrestler bullshit fuck you I remember when that shit was kayfabe 24/7 and NO ONE SNITCHED! I was all about the Hulkster growin' up, and it always stung when he turned heel at WCW.

Of course, the MOMENT he became a face again I immediately jumped all over his shit, runnin' around yellin' OH YEAAAAH BROTHER! at the top of my lungs. Yeah, you imagine a large grown man runnin' around doin' THAT now.

Nowadays (especially after the Attitude Era, which is when I stopped watching when that glorious era ended) it's all cookie-cutter family-oriented bullshit...but man.

I've actually grown to love a coupla characters they got runnin' around, and let's not even TALK about the divas.

Holy shit, the things I would do to A.J....just, each time the divas wrestle it's time to fap like mad.

Out of all the heels I've ever seen, there are only a few (outside of the '80's where they were ALL awesome) I can honestly say I like. The Miz is just one of those motherfuckers that just DESERVES every bad thing to ever happen to him, and the dude's mouth is just pure cheez-whiz gold. Distilled essence of fuckin' narm, yo. Let's ignore the constant bullshit of "I'M AWESOME!" and instead may I point out his fucking taunts? Just...god, I can't even describe it and, strangely enough, find anything. If you can, hook a brotha up yeah?

And holy shit, speaking about awesome characters like Jessie and Festus BISCUITS AND GRAVYYYYYY, holy crap these guys were awesome. Didn't they split them up for some stupid reason?

My god, bring back the giant wrestling retard genius already!

Speaking about giant retards, I kinda like where the current storyline is goin' for all that it's NOTHING like the Attitude Era stories, but maaan Triple H as an exec, Kevin Nash showin' up and pulling a number on CM Punk?

There's three more good characters right there for ya. Hell, they even got Mark Henry goin' on a rampage on Smackdown as of late, and that shit is fuckin' funny~!

And then there's all these new generation of wrestlers, like...I don't remember Sin Cara for shit, but MAN I dig his luchadore style. Same reason why I dig Rey Mysterio Jr. y'knowwhatImean? And oh god, Cody Rhodes, John Morrison, Randy Orton HOLY SHIT TALK ABOUT AN EVIL/AWESOME HEEL!

Seriously, the only person who strikes me as being a darker heel would be Doink the Clown, whom the current Doink needs to step his shit up and get back to WWE.

Bring Dink and the other midget clowns and fuck WWE up right and proper once more.

Seriously, I would personally pay money to see them bring Doink back and get the current guy to be more of a badass like the original (er, actually second) Doink used to be. I wanna see the Doink that did THIS to Kamala:

God I miss the original WWF, back when they had humongous guys fighting each other and NO ONE looked like a MMA fucktard but, instead, relied on characterization and G.I. Joe-esque storylines (AMERICA, FUCK YEAH!!!!!!) to actually be entertaining.

Never forget, mah nizzles: Macho Man Randy Savage died to ensure the Apocalypse would be stopped. We all owe him and the entire WWF '80's roster a vote of thanks, y'knowwhatI'msayin'?


~That Bastard

P.S. - I know, I's WWE athletes are definitely top-level. I never said otherwise, y'knowwhatImean? The "wrestling" nowadays is far more technical and impressive then the shit they pulled back in the day...BUT today's WWE star looks like every other MMA retard who'd ever stepped into a ring.

In b4 MMA fantards defending it by saying "SPORT ENTERTAINMENT IS KREIG!" because y'know what? That shit's as scripted as fuck. I remember when the UFC actually had real martial artists fighting each other...but that's for another post, y'knowwhatImean?

Monday, August 15, 2011

...a new featured link, bachelor chow, goin' back to school and jerbs.

Featured Link:

SO, sososososo, here we are again! For whatever raisin you find me entertaining enough to continue reading my shit, so bloggan-a-go-go, baby!

I will do my best to not fail you!

Above all, hello to my new readers. Don't piss in the corners, I got cold beer in the fridge for guests since I myself do not drink, and above all take off your goddamn shoes before you just waltz all up in here. Keep it clean, y'knowwhatImean?

Speakin' of which, it is hard as FUCK to do dishes with cold water. Now, I'm an uber-hygenic motherfucker...hell, it could be said that I'm downright metrosexual when it comes to cleanliness. I like my loofah, I like dat Axe Snake Peel body wash, and I dig my Garnier Fruictis products.

Me and my partner-in-crime have this super-awesome shower head with, like, 14 different settings or whatever and there's two that I particularly enjoy: massage-pounding jets and "rainfall" pounding jets. Either way I can easily eat up the hot water with a 40-60 minute shower.

Bathing? Shit yeah son, I'll do that shit. Gimme a book, some tunes and you'll never get me outta the tub.

Now, when I embarked on my little "proving mission" by surviving in this shithole for at LEAST two months, part of the issue is that I'm living without hot water. Some of you (especially you countrified motherfuckers) are all, "AWWW Bastard, that's not that bad!" yes it is shut your whore country mouth.

Seriously, shit SUCKS without constant hot water. I'm just thankful the "well water" this place draws from is only 7% nitrates...or was it 15%? Either way, that shit can kill pregnant women.

I ain't pregnant, but still...that shit worries me.

On the other hand at least I HAVE clean water, and am able to boil it when I need hot water to do some of my harder-to-clean dishes with...but it still sucks ass, and is good for my soul.

If I can tough this shit out, I can start reclaiming what I took for granted, y'knowwhatImean? The little pleasures in life like hot water, or actual air conditioning/heating or space to live and move about in. If I can train in a small-assed cabin like this, then I can survive anywhere.

So I've had a little JERRRRBS trouble recently. A particular warehouse wanted me at first...until I revealed that I wear nothing but black khakis. I don't even own one pair of blue jeans, y'knowwhatImean? Apparently that's all they want you to wear.

So yeaaaaah...shit's pretty interesting. I can go to one factory and make minimum wage at 40+ hours a week (but the work is harder) and I can just switch out when it's time to focus on college or I can go with the other one that wants me to work 40+ hours a week in a warehouse at minimum wage for a guaranteed 10-12 weeks.

I dunno, if I put my word on it it might give me troubles later on once the Winter Quarter starts...

SO, yes. I am indeed going back to school to get my friggin' baccalaureates, amongst other things. Yet another field switch for me, this time I'm going to focus on what I'm best at: either I'm gonna major in English and minor in communications - broadcasting or vice-versa. Either way I've already consolidated my old loans (am in the process?), have turned in my FAFSA, and will be applying to (NAME REVOKED DUE TO ANONYMITY) University as soon as possible. I should be able to get in with no trouble for Winter Quarter, but we'll see...I still gotta get transcripts from all four universities/tech schools I've been to (I'm fairly certain I have, like, two years worth of credits under my belt and can challenge the classes I need to in order to get sophomore, if not junior, status), and the application to the University I wanna be in costs 55 bucks.

Maybe I should put an Amazon Affiliates thing on my blogs? I dunno...

SO, wish me luck as I embark on returning to (DERP) University, eh? I'm pro'lly gonna need it. OH, and check this - I found out how to get my own radio show on the local student radio channel, KUGS. If I DO get my show (after, like, two semesters or whatever have you) then I'll be sure to at least make mention of who I might be. Hey, maybe I'll kinda do a crossed-up thing between my blogs and that show, eh?

I SHOULD DO A FEATURED LINK POST naw I'll do it here amongst my normal posts. Anyway, Neon...what can be said 'bout this motherfucker? Badassed Unreal Tournament videos, hell I wouldn't've even LEARNED of UT3 if not for him! Check him out, tell him That Bastard sent ya, eh?

Show love to yer fellow bloggers, mah niggas!

With all THAT stated, welcome to my new segment for That Bastard On...

Bachelor Chow~! Wanna cook like That Bastard (who cooks awesomely)? Well dig this recipe...

...naw fuck it, I'll tell you 'bout fryin' yer peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I swear I'll EVENTUALLY reveal to you the contents of my Nightmare Oatmeal and Terror Oatmeal, but in the meantime lemme hit ya with a lil' somethin'-somethin'...ya see, it wasn't until recently that I re-gained my lifelong love of good ol' P.B. n' J. It doesn't help that my PIC snagged the most DELICIOUS strawberry preserves a small while back from Costco, and while she's in California it's kinda up to me to eat the fuck out of it.

And eat the fuck out ot it I WILL! I mean I was honestly going to wait until she came back, but now that she's going to school up there for two semesters...someone's gotta man up and do what needs to be done.

That man is ME!

So with that stated, I made a big-assed peanut butter and strawberry preserves sammich on wheat bread, and I don't mean your normal peanut butter: this is big-assed jars of extra-crunchy Jif.

Fuck you creamy haters, soft-toofed bitch niggas.

So suffice it to say, I made me a monster mamma-jamma sammich, right? But then I smeared unsalted butter on one side of the sandwich, slapped it in the pan, smeared butter on the other side and flipped it when it was time.

Boom, fried peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. And you know what?


Seriously, it was some SERIOUSLY good shit goin' on! Just uuuuuuuungh PEANUT BUTTAH ACTIVAAAATE so fucking good I'm gonna go make one right the fuck now.

You haven't tried such a thing yet? What, you gotta better PBnJ recipe? Hit a brotha up in the comments section and lemme know 'bout it.

So yeah, it's time for a badassed sammich! Catch you guys 'round next post, eh?

OHHHHH, before I forget, I got new shit up at Soothe and MFM (don't I always?) and my PIC is plotting the next Bellingham Jerk...though I might beat her to the punch. Not enough activity on that puppy, except that I'm kinda in a position where I CAN'T eat at as many restaurants that deserve my CURSE WORDS powers. I'll get to 'em though, have no fear mein freunds~!

Also, I've got the Iron Maiden Extravaganza megapage ready, but it's not time to put it up just yet. I've got some Vocaloid mess up on Soothe right now, and if you don't know what they are you should check it out, yah?

Much love, peace, and all dat peanut buttah grease!

~That Bastard

Friday, August 12, 2011

...featured blog, peeing on 11 year old cancer patients, and the Fresh Prince.

Well, that pretty much summed up this post in a nutshell. Let's chat, shall we?

First and foremost, you need to go see and go check out mah nigga, Rask. The dude has some pretty sweet hacks if that's yer thing for all kinds of MMO's and other nonsuch.

He's also got, like, four other blogs, each one primed for entertainment (a.k.a. - Youtube reposts). What makes matters worse, he's even covered videos that I had planned to cover (Epic Rap Battles of History, for instance) before I could! Motherfucker's fast on the draw, yo.

Now he's currently in hiatus due to personal reasons (he had to spend a significant chunk of time working on a script or hack or somethin' for a game called Vindictus), but he was also the first blogfriend I made here. Dude gave me more than a few tips and quite a bit of help gettin' starting here, and this is just my little way of repaying that favor, y'knowwhatImean?

Anyway, the Featured Link is basically that...a way for me to pimp other blogs. Mainly just post up a little bit more 'bout the blogs that I personally read and, if you ain't, now's a good time to check 'em out. I'm just sayin'...

SO, sososo. This:

Now, let's set aside the whole "he's 18 and is drunk on an airplane" and also the whole "minimum drinking age should be lowered to military age of consent" issues...I'll get to that in a moment. Instead, let's focus on the fucked up (AIR-QUOTES!) "journalism" going on here. When I first read the title alone, like everyone else I thought he just pulled an R.Kelly and I got myself ready to laugh like a baws.

Instead, what do you find? He was A) drunk, B) drunkenly pissed on someone, and C) it was an 11-year old cancer patient. Still, doesn't that title strike you as being a little bit misleading?

I've had an issue with spotty journalism ever since I first went to college in California and experienced nothing but...only way I can describe it is a vicious hatred of police by the college newspaper group.

Now, my old town's cops weren't inexactly the most decent (most of them were crooked as shit, BUT there were good cops too, y'know?), but there were enough to balance out the bad cops. On the other hand, the newspaper group would scrutinize and stomp on every single bad deed the police performed while ignoring ANY kind of good. I've rampaged for quite some time about the "liberal media bullshit," but whether or not they have a political agenda isn't the's that they have a political agenda AT ALL.

Journalism used to mean something, to pursue the truth, hard cold facts, without bias or political leaning. At least, that's the way it's supposed to it's a fucking show like anything else. Ratings is all that matters, and they're willing to sacrifice integrity in order to gain them.

Internet news? Shit son, that's just rife with jackassery.

I'm sure there's new, fresh, young journalists out there who are as of yet unbiased and unblemished, their eyes fresh and bright with the promise of uncovering the truth no matter where it is. I can only hope y'all remain unjaded and innocent...but there ain't none of us innocent nowadays. We're born into filth and we're immediately subjected to ignorance and bitterness (yes, I'm quite point-blank laying the blame on the parents of our generation...and the previous one. Probably the one before that, but that's another post entirely...) even if your parents DID believe in WHUPPAN DAT ASS and STAND IN THE FUCKING CORNER, y'knowwhatImean? Oh, and let's not forget DO YOUR GODDAMN HOMEWORK. That's my favorite, and one I only had to hear once (like just about everything else).

...where was I? Oh yes, I'm certain there's journalists out there who truly follow a path of honor and decency, with that fire burning in them to uncover the truth and present it without bias. If y'all are out there, don't stop.

Don't let 'em ruin you. Don't fall into that abyss. Look into that yawning darkness and scream your name...but don't ever fall in.

We need you too much.

NOW...enough melancholy, yes? Good! Let's talk more 'bout pissing on 11 year old cancer patients...

SO ANYWAY, yeah, duuuuuude, really? Okay, I'm one of those people who believes that if a person is old enough to sign up for the military they should be old enough to be allowed to drink! Now, eight drinks is either gonna be not enough or too much, and OBVIOUSLY it was a bit much for this youngster.

But didn't the attendants notice that A) he was 18 and B) he's had too fucking much to drink? Seriously, this strikes me as being something that could've easily been handled early on, only it was allowed to bloom forth into the fuckfruit that it became.

Seriously, shit's lookin' bad y'all.

So yeah, you read the article, didn't you? My only real question is why didn't the father beat the ever-loving crap outta the guy the MOMENT he whipped out his junk? The fight should've started right there if the motherfucker was doing his job. I'm just sayin', self-defense extends to your immediate family members...and 18-year old or not, rich-assed U.S. sports team or not, I'm fairly certain EVERYONE would've been forgiving if he had just up and whupped some ass. Plus his 11 year old cancer-riddled daughter wouldn't've gotten R.Kelly'd the way she did.

Good job protecting your daughter there, jackass. Thankfully and hopefully, I'll never know what it's like to be that weak and be in a position like that...

So I wake up and turn on the television. This happens from time to time and usually in that altered state of between sleep and wakefulness I stumble across shows that I probably normally wouldn't.

I watched the first episode of Fresh Prince of Bel Air. All I can think about now is...what happened?

My people, what the fuck happened to us? I'm sincerely asking y'all because it's driving me insane.

I don't honestly remember the rest of the series except for certain scenes, but...there wouldn't be a show like this nowadays. The racial divide, the widening gap between, Fresh Prince would've gone a completely different and darker route. Thankfully it was the right show for the right time from what I remember, and wasn't all about Thug Life (even though that nigger shit was growing by then).

Back then black people still kept niggers under control and out of the limelight. They were a joke, and should've stayed that way.

So...what the fuck happened? Was George Orwell right but in the wrong way, that instead of using pain and the threat of military force against their own people the government chose instead to use the television and the media to influence us to change in such a dramatic way?

Was it simply the right moment for music, literature, television and the media combined with a leniency in parenting techniques and presence (if not the outright lack thereof)?

I speak of blame, and it CAN be easy to single out certain individuals for degrading America's culture and honor. But it's not just these individuals...I've spoken before of 1940-1960, how in that twenty year span something changed in the dynamics of our political strata. Maybe I'm wrong though? By all means speak up and lemme know in the comments section. After all, that's why this particular blog exists, yes?

During that span of years there were MANY who would see to the downfall of an entire culture, the downfall of an entire country. The hell do I know 'bout it though, I'm just a punk writer on the internet...

Anyway, don't mind my downward spiral into conspiracies and such. Let's chat, shall we? Hit me up in the comments section and I'll answer it in the next post...or should I just comment back in my own comment section?

How DOES that work, I you guys check back the way I do? Hell, I'll bring it up in the next post if anything...'cuz I actually do go back and check to see if there were any responses by the blog owners to my commentary, for no other purpose than there SEEMS to be a dialogue going, but one stunted by the medium itself.

Meh, end ramble.

~That Bastard

Thursday, August 11, 2011

....bloggan stuffs~!

So it was brought to my attention recently by the Unreal Tournament video-editin' Neon (check 'em out at: that my labels are all over the place.

For what it's worth, please bear with me as I go throughout my blogs and fuck with 'em, addin' commas in the labels and is, every time I DO attempt to screw with it the previous tags show up instead of the "current" one I want to use.

If my blogs seem kinda wonky, they'll be back up and runnin' soon!

Got a new Netflix This! in hopes of distracting you from my newb mistake~! I'll be hittin' y'all up with new stuff all across the board, including introducing a friend's blog once it's up and running.

In the meantime, I got commas to add and dishes to scrub. Thanks for hanging with me thus far, I swear to continue to bring you CURSE WORDS and lengthy posts.

Remember, if a lady tells you that it's the motion in the ocean not the size of the boat SHE'S LYING the girl is lying to youuuu!!!! A wave can easily capsize a crappy raft, but a luxury liner can ride that shit out~!

Bad advice brought to you by,

~That Bastard

EDIT: NYO-HO-HOOOOO, there we go! No word verification (there's, like, five of you why the hell do I need it?), labels all taken care of...Neon just won him/herself a post coverage (Rask got number one slot, sorry yo)~! I'll talk more 'bout it on the next post of That Bastard On...

In the meantime, enjoy your stay chillin' out amongst my blogs, eh?

Monday, August 8, 2011

...startin' a band and the power of failure.

I think I've actually stated it before in my other blogs that I'm a huge fuck up of a failure. It's really my only talent (outside of, perhaps, writing if I could just do something with that) outside of being generally awesome. Seriously, when I'm bent to a task (programming, fighting, loving, really the only thing I haven't gotten badassed at while growing up or even as an adult is drawing - I consistently suck at artwork) I surprise and entertain to the extent that I'm able to assimilate and utilize knowledge and training.

Yet I find myself pigeonholed like it's not even funny. Because of my work history (despite my extensive skill set) I'm fuckin' doomed to forever be a factory worker. Not even a GOOD factory worker, but the kind that only gets minimum wage and feels lucky that the company gives 40 hours a week.

Hopefully getting this free certificate (good god THANK YOU for Worksource!) in Microsoft 2010 Office will, in the very least, open a few doors and allow my fast-typing, awesome-filing, phone-checkin' ass a chance at a nicer job. But then again this isn't even anything new, I'm sure there's plenty of other personal blogs with that exact kind of complaint, y'know?

We'll see. At this point a waiter makes more through tipping then most ground-level factory jobs. Might just switch over to THAT and just deal with hoity-toity upper crust bastards.

Hopefully they won't find this blog! Of course if they do I'll pro'lly give 'em a good ol' fashioned mug full of CURSE WORDS upon request.

On a separate note, nothing sucks harder then starting a band, especially in the fields of Heavy Metal, Hard Rock and Punk in an era where only screamo bands seem to get any kind of facetime. It's not even that hard because of the requirements, only in the drama inherent in getting everyone together, finding a jam space, ensuring everyone gets to practice and then loooong hours of practice.

On the other hand, I'm certain that it'll be worth it in the long run. In the very least after only two practice sessions (the first was for four hours, the last was roughly five) we sound way tighter, our timing is good and everything SOUNDS it's just about ensuring the guitarist remembers which riff goes where. The bassist, the drummer and myself? Shit son, it's ON~! The guitarist is great though, a real talent, and I'm sure he'll get it two practices from now...for now we're just focusing on these first three songs.

In the meantime, I'm also being scouted for two other bands as a male vocalist (not that either of them are established bands...well ONE of them is, the other is this reggae band that at least needs a lyricist, but the guitarist keeps insisting on me being the vocalist for some reason. Me. In a reggae band. Huh.) in which one WANTS to become a paid band while the other one is a bit more established and actually plays at venues.

Plus they do rock, which already puts them ahead of the reggae band when it comes to my attentions!

We'll see, once again. Never turn any avenue of exposure or experience down, y'knowwhatImean?

I dunno. It seems exciting, it seems like I might be successful or will become so...but right now I'm not. It's like I've said before, when I get slapped down I get back up again and keep goin'. If I fall, I simply roll and get to my feet...but in the back of my mind, after the crisis has been dealt with or I've had to do what I've had to do, I always worry about the next time I fail. Will I get up as fast then?

We'll...see. I reckon.

As far as I know, I'll simply deal with it as it comes.

Anyway, I'll catch y'all around, eh? Not a lot to post about this time around, but next time I'll post up some good stuff. OH, also expect a new review from my Partner-In-Crime concerning another restaurant she stumbled across and then wallowed in loathing for. Also, if you're paying attention to your Google Reader or following me or my RSS feeds, then you know I've got a new Soothe posted, new MFM up, and also a whole new Netflix This! posted and up.

'Til next time, y'all!

~That Bastard

P.S. - Expect a "Hey, check this blog out" post next time. Yer never gonna guess who~!

Friday, August 5, 2011

...summer colds, VORKING OUT and Costco!

SO, sosososo...I've been keepin' what I call "My Absolutely True Muscle Diary." Inspired my bro Eddie Nance ( who actually has the balls to publish HIS workout diary for all to see, I decided that maybe it WOULD be a good way of keeping track of my progress and improvement. I'm doin' it my way, and that's what matters in the end, y'knowwhatImean?

As soon as I did it though, I got a summer cold. I'm gettin' over it (no more cotton-headed...ness...!) but yeah, I'm lookin' at it and it just looks like I lazed off this week.

Meh, I'll get back onto my routine starting next week.

Funny story, I actually do my VORKING OUHUT while watching stuff on Netflix. I reckon that's one way of doing it, y'know? I've heard about others who have done this, and honestly as long as yer gettin' yer VORKING OUHUT in it doesn't matter if you're listening to an Ipod, the idiot box or your own tortured breathing...

Well, honestly I HATED running without music. Once I got a sandisk MP3 player (DON'T YOU DARE LAUGH I bought it from a friend for five bucks and this little motherfucker is tougher than two-thirds of the dudes I met on the bus route) I swear my life changed for the better.

Anyway, stretching and increased workout routine (once in the morning, once at night, four or five times a week depending on how I'm feelin') starts tomorrow~! Gotta get back to that point of badassery I was at three years ago...

So, interesting time at band practice recently. Got an invite to a local musician's studio to do some vocal work, and THAT is gonna kick ass...but I'm honestly focused on my band and gettin' this album out by Christmas time. One song is definitely down, but it's also the shortest out of the entire thing (clockin' in at only one minute twenty seconds), though we DID do a on-the-fly remix that lasted well over three minutes. It also kicked major ass! Now we gotta get the next two songs done and then start postin' 'em on the youtubes...

Not that I can talk about that much HERE! Even now gotta watch my anonymity, y'knowwhatImean? Y'all will find out eventually.

Condensed soup sucks WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T I BUY SOUP WHILE I WAS AT COSTCO?! I might be losing e-cred (DEFINITELY street cred) just by talking about Costco but y'all gotta understand...they got the cheapest, cleanest gas in all of Bellingham (by a clear five cents from the next cheapest gas station, and certainly cleaner) and some of the best stuff for what you pay for. Muffins for daaays bro! Two gallons of 2% milk at $4.90 where everywhere else it's 3-4 bucks a gallon. Not per gallon, A gallon! I've got the hook up on hot links that'll beat yer ass inside out, dawg!

No, seriously I'm STILL eating food from the freezer that we bought two months ago (Hash browns and waffles, namely), y'know? And they're still good! The prices are consistent, and I don't have to freak out about catching them at sale - the worst that happens is I might buy something and the NEXT week the item will have a coupon come out. Only once did this happen where I was all "damn, Damn, DAAAAAMN!" and it wasn't THAT bad, y'know?

Good God, I'd be makin' money right the hell now just from buyin' gas from there if I was able to acquire a credit card through Costco! As is, both of our credit scores suck. What can one do, eh?

Seriously, even if you don't have a shit-ton of money or space to invest into this kind of thing, there's still plenty of savings to find at Costco! Even better, like yours truly That Bastard they always keep it local too. That means a lot to me, personally.

Ugh, Sunday I get to look forward to an extra long practice session and new posts for Soothe Your Freaking Beast as well as Man-Flavored Milk (we don't talk about that), and I've got somethin' special comin' up for Netflix This!...namely, a "WTF?!" blog post.

You'll just have to see once it comes out, eh?

OH, for those of you who actually have a tumblr, I've been posting up my crap poetry over there. Any opinions? Should I just post 'em over here in yet another blog or somethin'? I know there's plenty of literary blogs...and I HAVE kicked around the idea of a literature blog, post up some of the stuff that I would usually post in my old DeviantArt account.

Lemme know in the comments, eh? Let's chat.

OH, far as remarking back to people on one's own comment section, does that work? Like, do you guys check back on blogs you've commented on to see what the owner replies with?

Just curious, 's all.

Anyway, hit me back when you get this message, y'all!


~That Bastard

Tuesday, August 2, 2011 beginnings, y'know?

SO, here we are! Freakin' blog number, while this one is probably going to undergo subtle design changes as I post along, it's pretty much up and running.

So...sososo, now that I HAVE this "personal" blog up, what the fuck to do with it?, hmmm. I dunno. I HAD an idea, but kinda lost it while writing Man-Flavored Milk (we don't talk about that one).

Perhaps let's start with a few stats I CAN give you (gotta stay anonymous, y'knowwhatImean? For The Bellingham Jerk) and the links and info to my usual NETWERKZ stuffs.

>I work out once every other day, and am attempting to increase it to twice a day every day. I've gotten stronger, but I'm still not at the point where I want to be.

>I believe in a balance of all things. Vidyuh gaemes, watchin' stuff on the t.v., working out, running/jogging, making love, fighting - everything should be in balance. The inner universe should mirror the outer universe, so it's important to realize your surroundings, whom you hang out with, and what you put into yourself (sexually and gastrointestinally...which, for some, is also sexually.), but with THAT said if your country believes in freedom and personal liberties then go ahead and do whatever the fuck you wanna do.

>I'm very pro-American, but I'm more pro-personal freedoms than I am any single country. I believe in nationalism, and am proud of my country's accomplishments...but I'm unwilling to turn a blind eye from our mistakes both current and historical, plus I'm swift to note any time my own personal freedoms are being taken advantage of. With THAT stated, fuck yo' couch: it is the nature of mankind to defeat its' neighbors, its' enemies, then take over their lands and replace their culture. I actually agree with the African (and many other tribal types) ideal that if I defeat you, then my god is greater than yours.

I'm just sayin', they have somethin' there...

From a personal point of view, so long as no one else (not even my own government, greedy lazy bastards) dares attempt to infringe on my own personal freedoms I wont' have to get all political activist and/or violent on their ass.

>I'm a depraved bisexual sadistic ex-polygamist affianced to a good Christian girl. We're waitin' 'till marriage (for her), and yes I have been incredibly successful with my strength of will...and yes, for the past three years it has been an absolute temptation and a trial. Ugh.

>I am incredibly well-read and I enjoy writing as well. I'm lit as fuck and angry as hell.

>I rage easy and quickly at the drop of a hat, BUUUUT I also believe in self-control, self-accountability and self-responsibility. I have never hit a woman but am not afraid to defend myself should the need arise. My father taught me the sweet science of fucking a target up, and while he has killed five men in his lifetime (all with good pretenses, all while serving or as was his duty) I have hospitalized five men with my bare hands, never with a weapon.

I dunno if that makes me better than him or not, but I do ponder every now and then which of us would win if I were able to go back in him tons though.

>I'm a huge fuckin' geek. Just...period.

I'll actually have opinions and whining and other such, probably in response to other blogs...whom I'll pro'lly also direct your attention to. No reason, just doin' my part to ensure that other blogs get attention as well, y'knowwhatImean? Share and share alike, friendo.

>I'm in a band, despite all the ups and downs of just gettin' it together. Trust me, it's been one fucked up ride...but hopefully it'll just make our first album that much sweeter. Can't tell ya what genre we're in (LOL GENRES) or the name of the band, anonymity and all that...but eventually I'll come out and say who I am, just not right now. Not so long as there's restaurants that NEED to be destroyed by my reviews. I'm just sayin'....

ANYWAY, you wanna find me elsewheres? Here ya go:

Tumblr: thatbastardfrombellingham
Twitter: @ThatBastardFB
Facebook(oh god do I even check this thing?!):/ThatBastardFB

And here at Blogger/Blogspot, I just keep spewing out WORDS WORDS WORDS except nowadays I'm actually posting trailers from Derptubes as well. Hey, I'm always lookin' to improve, y'knowwhatImean?

Man-Flavored Milk (we don't talk about this one, it doesn't exist)

Soothe Your Freaking Beast (music blog where I post shit from Youtube...and the URL remains misspelled, heh)

The Bellingham Jerk (the one, the only, the original. Hail to the King, baby)

Netflix This! (I'm actually quite proud of this one, namely in how much I cover and deliver. I dunno, maybe it's just a selfish pride...but I really like writing these reviews and lists and such)

That Bastard On... (yeap, my newest project, one that will hopefully be worthy of my writing skill)

Well, until the next post, eh? Expect something LOLPOLITICAL or whatever have you, but namely just my personal bullshit concerning the newslets of the day.

I've already missed out on sooo much...I mean, Casey Anthony, Amy Derphouse killing 92+ kids, Anders is a Knights Templar/HE FIGHTS FOR EUROPE, Muslimsmuslimsmuslims, Draw Mohammed Day...

God, all I need now is Al Sharpton or Jesse Jackson to friggin' fave my blogs, I will SO go off on them!!!!

Ain't nothin' but love for y'all.

~That Bastard

Monday, August 1, 2011

...Bad Days #1 (I'm certain to have more, you see)

Anger anger anger, wangst wangst wangst.

No, I'm seriously so friggin' pissed off right now just at the day I've had. Got a job, lost it 'cuz I can't find my fucking social security card (which I always keep on me, ALWAYS...but I honestly don't remember keeping an accounting of it during the second move last month) and apparently a signed print-out from the social security administration building doesn't fucking count.

Even if the social security people themselves say it does.

Then a line jumping hambeast whorehound in a fucked up caravan sport with a scratched up paintjob and three kids squalling in the background...well, not to repeat myself, jumps the fucking line in front of me and a loooong assed line behind me.

Suffice it to say there was quite a bit of growling from myself and others, yet she apparently ignored it and went about her business big-assed stomach first.

No, seriously, people like this is why America has such a horrible reputation. God, the friggin' Canuckians were there too, B.C. and Vancouver license plates all over the fucking place.

On the other hand, it gave me a chance to snag some time talking to the fine-assed dark-skinned honey in the jaguar behind me, and made some of my neighbors laugh with my recounting of the "hamstomached whorebeast whose spare tire's spare tire is made of ham and beef cutlets" and all that happened today.


Plus my pad is hot as fucking hell in the summer day, and I need a shower like it ain't funny.

Just...blah, I'll do something with this blog other than whine and bitch next post. Not to mention work on the design.