Rhymes Against Humanity 037 Winners and Losers and Rich Kelly Edition


Brodsky's fish combined

So a few things happened this week. The Live Free or Diehards chose Donald Trump and Bernie Sandwiches in the NH primary and now on to the next freak state, South Carolina. Peyton Manning announced his intention to drink a lot of Budweiser after going along for the ride and garnering a second Super Bowl ring with a performance that was really kind of shitty. Not a good day to be a QB or especially an offensive lineman as both defenses dominated and both QB’s tried not to fuck it up too bad.

But that’s all bullshit. the real things that happened to me were much more emotionally emotional. for one, the second anniversary of my sister’s death was Monday so I spent a good deal of time thinking about the times both good and bad and I wrote this:

It was two years ago today that my dear, sweet, gentle, rough edged, infuriating, frustrating, brilliant, tragic sister Shari went to be with Jesus up in heaven. I was the best brother she had and I should’ve been much kinder. We grew up in a home where kindness wasn’t a virtue, but rather a weakness to be attacked. It made us funny as fuck but it also made us mean. Thats a shame. But this ain’t about that. I miss her terribly, but this ain’t about that either.
What this is about is her talent talent. Shari was a great writer. a really, really great writer. Her milieu was fanfic, which I would condemn as not real art until she would come back at me with “GCD Folksongs?!?, cmon dude.” it was a perpetual debate for the ages that often got malevolent. Anyway, she is gone now and I am the keeper of her legacy. Some of the last stuff she wrote was this Supernatural fanfic. If you care to read it, here ’tis. it’s got gay porn too so there’s that.

Then I got a disturbing call from an old friend’s phone. Rich Kelly is an artistic genius, his songwriting and drawings are wonderful and in person he is one of the funniest motherfuckers I’ve ever met. Well Rich went missing and people were fearing the worst. I ended up thinking about him a lot and so Butch Ross and I decided to eulogize him in this podcast, so we did. I hope you like our story of the man and a few of his songs.

That’s about all. If you like Rich Kelly’s work, seek him out on the Facebook and see what else he’s done. If you like this podcast, please let us know with a comment or a review in iTunes. Keep passing the open windows, people.


Before There Was Chris Kyle, There Was Ludmila Pavlichenko

Never forget, there was a small sliver of time in modern history where you could kill 300 people and Woody Guthrie would a laudatory folksong about you. The world I knowed is gone.

Coupla minutes ago, I read this tweet:

That reminded me of this song:


“So Fucking Cool, I Am” — Yoda

20110401_2153199 So, today has been a little frustrating, I went down to Delaware to try to get me a tax free phone.* Mine is dying a slow, albeit first-world death and I thought I had wrapped my head around all the various deals and providers and who would pay my early termination fee, (Because SCOTUS has guaranteed my right to terminate) and all of that. What I was unprepared for was that none of the stores from my preferred provider had the fucking phone I wanted, so my sortie to save $60 in taxes merely cost me $5 in gas and my whole morning, sooooo…now I’m back. I regret nothing.

Part of my plan for 2015 is to regret less, though that may just result in rationalizing more. Hopefully it won’t be a 1:1 correlation. So In terms of regrets that I can grandfather into the fuckstorm that was 2014, I have the tiniest one. I’m fairly pleased with how my chat with Jess Klein came out, but I did begin the podcast with every intention of asking her to play “I Am So Fucking Cool”. But the road to hell is paved with the asses of you and me or whatever, so it just didn’t get done. In lieu, here is a video of that song from a house concert or something. Dig:

*Which is the worst blues song ever