Grade A Turd.

Has anyone ever had more of an identity crisis than the guy to the right? Seriously. I mean look at the photo on the left of the two. I'm sure that it was taken around 1987ish because that's when Ozzy "discovered" Zakk Wylde. Then the other picture was taken around 20 or so years later. I know that people can change who they are a lot over that time span, but seriously; Zakk Wylde is such a poser. First he was a hair metal guy, then he was a southern rock dude, and now he's apparently a biker. Has there ever been someone who buys into to his own image more than this guy? The last time I thought that he was "cool" was when I was like 17; after that I was able to deduce that he is in fact a giant turd. I usually don't wish ill will on people but when he had that blood clot thing a while back; I thought to myself "Good. Serves him right for being such a douche."
Every interview with him he has to be loaded, has to unnecessarily swear, and call Ozzy and Sharon his "mom and dad" (for reals?). I actually read in Guitar Edge from a few years ago an interview with him and here is what he said with almost no paraphrasing

 Guitar Edge: How do you come up with new ideas?
 Zakk Wylde: I listen to music all the time. Like today, I was driving to the studio listening to "Whole Lotta Love" and I thought, "Man I'll just flip the riff around and poof! A new tune!" It's that simple.

Yes, it is that simple. That's how you go from being a good not great guitar player to a hack who plays eleventygillion notes of crap in a pentatonic scale. Oh yeah, and you have to make sure you criticize people who use wah wah when you yourself overuse said pedal.
Then there is the ego on this guy. I know that it's HIS band, but seriously he just let his bass player play on an album. Meanwhile the only time that the other guitar player (Nick Cantanese) has made an "official" appearance on an album was the unnecessary live album Alcohol Fueled Brewtality. That's it. How does that even resemble a band?
Anyways, going back to the image thing. Seriously now he thinks he's a biker...or a lesbian however you want to think about it; but anyways the only thing that more annoying than him sometimes are his fans, or brothers (See post from June regarding my feelings on that!). They also think that they are bikers because they wear stupid leather vests, disregard personal hygiene, overuse swear words, and drink too much. Nothing he does is stupid in their eyes, for real. Honestly, have these people ever read any of his "lyrics"? It's enough to want to punch yourself in the appendix to induce a rupture, so you will have to be sedated.
My last point to bitch about; his name. Zakk Wylde. Is there anymore of an 80s' glam name than that? Seriously, look at the spelling Zakk, has anyone ever spelt their name like that? Then theirs Wylde. Boy that's original. Do you know what his real name is? Jeffery Wielandt. Doesn't get much more bad ass than that eh? Well, now we know why he changed it to something a little less preposterous.
So yeah, I know that this was a bit on the rambling/bitching side but something had to be said. I think that his only appeal is to morons and 17 year olds (which may or may not be the same thing). Sadly he is one of the most influential guitar players of recent times, but is still influential. I don't know, maybe I would dislike him less if he didn't focus so heavily on his ridiculous image and play better. I mean I still own a good  number of his older albums and play them from time to time, but he's not my favorite. That is all.

Self Righteousness 101

There are two types of people that I have grown to realize that I dislike ( I say dislike, because I don't think that I really "hate" anyone). 1) Jazz snobs 2) Hippie/Hipster douchers. I will try in some depth to describe why I loathe these people in the following paragraphs.
     We'll start with the Jazz snobs. They are almost too easy that I should ignore them, but I won't, ney I can't. Oh and before I continue let me say: I enjoy Jazz. Just usually not the people who play it. Remember the scene in High Fidelity where Jack Black won't sell that guy the record he so badly wants? And their friend says that they were the under appreciated geeks in high school and now they can look down on people from their collective music perch? That's Jazz snobs in a quick blurb. If you can't get it, your dumb. If you listen to music that is simple, you have poor taste in music. If it's easily accessible, it's clearly terrible and you should revisit the previous two things mentioned. They also feel that because they have superior music knowledge (usually) they can look down their nose at you for a variety of reasons ranging from: playing in odd time signatures, overall music theory skills, flawlessly sight read, and improvise. It's kind of disgusting. I like listening to Jazz, mostly fusion or guitar based styles, but even those guys are kinda dicks. Some of my favorite players play Jazz and it's so obnoxious to listen to them talk, to the point if I heard them talk anymore than I do, I might not listen to them at all. Now this isn't to say that guys who play other styles of music should get free passes, but at least they don't carry a holier than thou attitude about everything. And you know what? It doesn't stop with just music; they need to be snobs about food, literature, wine/booze, film, and art. Seriously, who took a shit on these people when they were growing up?
     Up next, the Hippie/Hipster douchers. When I lived in North Dakota these people were rare, out in San Francisco they are almost EVERYWHERE! For the life of me I can't understand why someone would want to live a lifestyle like them. It's almost like the opposite of someone who needs to be up to date on the latest trends; they search for the next big obscure thing. Some crappy indie band that only 3 people have heard of, some crappy film that was made for $10,000, HORRIBLE clothes that looked to be in fashion 15 years ago. You name it they look for it, they take pride in it. It's as if they frown their stupid faces upon anything that might have money behind it. What makes them think that just because someone in a second hand t-shirt made a more honest song than a famous singer? Something that was made for $200 has just as much chance to suck as something that cost $200,000. I know a few people like this and it bothers me, more so because they are totally oblivious to the fact that they are like this.  Now, I certainly don't hate these people, but I wouldn't shed a tear if they were suddenly arrested and the deported under mysterious circumstances or anything. My last point on these turds is this: they feel that because they appreciate things that no one gives a shit about they know everything there is to know about art. This offends me as a burgeoning artist. If it came down to everyone hating my stuff or having one person in the world like it and it was a lame ass Hipster; I would rather everyone hate it. To me it seems that the only reason they claim to like art is so that they can seem rounded and cultural and blah, blah, blah. Art is not for everyone and by just pretending to appreciate it is offensive to artists everywhere.*
     One would think that these people should get together and be friends, hell they could become BFF's or something. They have enough in common. They are so bitter and contrived, they could hate everything together and it would make it easier for everyone else to dislike them.

*A lot of artists can fall in to this group. I might touch upon this at a later date.

Oh Canada

Canada sucks. I'm sorry but that's the truth, it has nothing to do with racism or any other type of ism, the fact of the matter is that that nation is filled with the dumbest people per square mile. What makes me qualified to say that you may ask? Well, living in North Dakota for a little over a dozen years and taking a 4 day trip up to America's hat qualifies me. For the longest time, I thought that only people in my (former) neck of the woods understood what makes these people so dumb, then when I was in middle school a little show called South Park came along and hit the nail right on the head. Also upon my last two trips back home it really hit me how dumb these people are. So what I decided I would do is list some of my "favorite" run ins with the few, the proud, the Canadian; in no particular order also. These close encounters take place everywhere from my day to day life, at work, on the phone, and even a fireworks store!

*Christmas 2008: This Canadian lady calls my work, I answer the phone and she asks if we carry a specific guitar pedal (I worked at a music store). I said yes and that it was about $350. She then asks if I could sell it to her for only $300. My manager agrees since it was a dog (an older product that hasn't been selling and just sits on the shelf). She gives me her credit card information and I ring it up for her, she then asks if someone at the store would be able to deliver it to her at her hotel. I told her that I would be able to since I was leaving the store in a bit and headed in the direction of her hotel. I drop it off, end of story right? Nope. I get to work the next day and what do I see? Yep, the pedal. Instantly I ask "What the hell is that doing back here?" My manager tells me that the lady returned it because she got a better deal on it from our cross town rivals. How much of a better deal you might ask? $10.

*Summer 2005: My friend Ray and I are at this fireworks outlet mall called Generous Jerry's (rip off!). We are minding our own business looking at explosives to buy. Then all of a sudden some Canadian guy walks past me and calls me a fag. We were both perplexed and then I looked down and realized that I was wearing my t-shirt that said INVADE CANADA! Harsh reaction, no?

*Fall 2007: Again, I was working at the music store, when these shenanigans happen. A guy decked from head to toe in a Canadian Tuxedo comes in, he asks me if we carried a particular microphone. I say no and he says okay. He then went into the bathroom and I thought that was it. Two minutes later; a guy calls and asks me the same exact question in the same way. Again I say no, then a few seconds later Super Canuck rolls out of the bathroom and is putting his phone away. Coincidence, I think not.

*Spring 2008: This is a shorty but a goodie. Mandi and I were on the way home from a dinner at my moms house when we come up to a red light. The only other car belongs to a dirty Canadian and he stops before the railroad tracks when there is clearly another spot after that. So I did what any normal person would do and I cut him off and got that spot. Stupid Canadian.

*Fall 2006: This one is a little different. A friend of mine at UND was Canadian and he was cool enough to let us rip on Canada to his face (for the most part); well, we were in a figure drawing class and  the jokes were flowing pretty good and he started to make some as well. Eventually this old bitch that most of didn't like chimed in and here was the conversation.

          Brandon: It's exciting, we just got guns up in Canada.
          Deb (old bitch): Really? You just got guns?
          Brandon: Yep, it's pretty cool.
          Deb: Well what's it like?
          Brandon: I don't know, we haven't got the bullets yet.
          Deb: Wow, really?

Normally I would say something about how dumb a Canadian is but, man that old bitch was dumb. I mean who falls for that shit? Jesus H man.

*Summer 2010: I'm at home hanging out with my mom and we had just come from Petco. We are driving down 32nd Avenue when something catches my eye. What is it you may ask? Well it was a Canadian PARKED in the middle of one of those little turn lanes to get into a restaurant. And what was he doing? Eating. That's right eating, essentially in the middle of a busy road.

These are just some my more notable run ins with the residents of America's hat aka America Jr. aka Canada. There are also all the incidents were they would just come down for the weekend and park their campers in some store's parking lot instead of checking into a hotel or camp ground or how they just sound boarder line retarded.

What's That Smell? Part Three: The Smelling

So, I thought that my interesting flying adventures were going to cool off for awhile, but I was wrong. Now I present the third installment of "What's That Smell?"

On the Thursday before I was to leave, I was enjoying a hamburger with my mom and our dogs. Then I got a call from a random ass phone number, I wasn't going to answer but for some reason I did; good thing too. It was an automated message telling me that my flight had been canceled and moved from Friday at 7a.m. to Friday at 5:15 a.m.; shitty but hey what could I do? So we changed plans to leave earlier and I just decided to stay up and hang out with one of my dogs, The Dude and watch The Godfather Part II since we were going to be leaving at like 2:30 a.m. Well, we left and arrived at the Fargo airport and discovered that the terminal doesn't open until 4 a.m. so we had to drive around for about 45 minutes with nothing but a few gas stations open. After we got in, I tried to check in and here's what happens. It says that my flight was at 5:15 p.m. I was totally pissed off because I knew that I hadn't heard wrong or written it down wrong, my flight was in the morning. So after standing around for like 15 minutes with no one coming to help me, I notice a piece of paper that was face down saying if you need help call this number. I did and the guy who I talked to sounded exactly like Matthew McConaughey.
So I'm talking to McConaughey and surprisingly he was helpful, he even said "alright, alright, alright" when he was trying to get me on an earlier flight. He even said that since it was their fault for the mix up I was going to get a voucher for a meal in the Chicago airport. Well, after that we left Fargo and went home. I slept for like three hours before we headed back so I could fly out at noon. It was awesome.
The flight from Fargo to Chicago was pretty good, except I was sitting next to a guy who had no real urge to get off the plane and the flight attendant said that my flight to Chicago would board in the wrong section of the airport. Once I got off the plane, I was first in search of my gate. Then I was in search of my meal voucher. I found the gate and then proceeded to talk to a guy named Darwood. He told me that there was no record of a voucher and couldn't figure out what I was talking about. So after about 10 minutes of this back and forth, he "finds" it. The total? $5.  Wow, just enough to buy nothing in an airport. Plus he gives me a seat in the last row AGAIN, only this time in the aisle. A few hours later I was all set to board the plane and was stopped by the lady checking me in.
  
     Lady: "Are you traveling alone?"
     Me: "Yeah..."
     Lady: "Well, lets get you a better seat than!"
     Me: "Okay."
     Lady: "Here you go. More leg room, have a nice flight!"

I was bumped up 16 rows and I got a window seat, only it was next to the emergency exit (For some reason, I felt the urge to just pull the leaver, just to see what happens, messed up I know). Now for the tie into the title. Some butch lesbo had some nasty smelling/looking veggie platter and then I smelt what could pass off as a used diaper, only it turned out to be BBQ that someone was eating two rows behind me. Yummy? Plus the in flight movie was The Bounty Hunter. It was so bad that I could notice the lady sitting next to me watching my movie on my Mac without sound, it was the rest of The Godfather Part II, so who could blame her?
Well, that's all for right now. My next travels won't be until around Christmas/New Years, so we'll see what happens then.