REBEL MESSIAH seeks experienced bass player with good equipment and transportation for full time work performing and recording. Rehearsal space is in Adairsville in north west Georgia, so you'll need to be close enough to come to practice 2-3 times a week. Music is punk metal, all originals no covers (at least to start). Core of the band will be 3-piece, bass-guitar-drums.
To schedule a tryout, send me an email or call 770-769-9126
http://undergroundrecords.org/twlist.htm
24.2.09
22.2.09
GREAT TAX BREAK!!
Part of this trillion dollar stimulus we here in the US are paying for to enable our kings and queens to continue their raping of the populace in order to sustain their life of fortune and fame (full insurance, nice pension, great benes and perks, above avg. pay, power to enslave and kill - monarch kinda things), includes a "tax" cut where the individual will be able to "save" an average of $13 per month and the family of four $65 on their blood money requirement, er, taxes. WOW. OMG ARE WE FUCKIN' ROLLIN' NOW!
This on top of a massive government spending binge supposedly to "create" millions of jobs. When that money is gone and shit is still an overwhelming mess (or at the best "gliding" along to "recovery"), guess who will fund the next party for the people?
The sheen of "change" is wearing thin quick.
Wake up, time for the citizens to demand their money back. This dog and pony show isn't worth a dime.
Part of this trillion dollar stimulus we here in the US are paying for to enable our kings and queens to continue their raping of the populace in order to sustain their life of fortune and fame (full insurance, nice pension, great benes and perks, above avg. pay, power to enslave and kill - monarch kinda things), includes a "tax" cut where the individual will be able to "save" an average of $13 per month and the family of four $65 on their blood money requirement, er, taxes. WOW. OMG ARE WE FUCKIN' ROLLIN' NOW!
This on top of a massive government spending binge supposedly to "create" millions of jobs. When that money is gone and shit is still an overwhelming mess (or at the best "gliding" along to "recovery"), guess who will fund the next party for the people?
The sheen of "change" is wearing thin quick.
Wake up, time for the citizens to demand their money back. This dog and pony show isn't worth a dime.
19.2.09
LIVE AT UNDERGROUND RECORDS will feature a live interview from Louisiana powerhouse rock band PARALLEL THE SKY. Come and hear why this is one of the hottest rock bands in the United States. Phone lines will be open, so call into the show and have a live chat with PARALLEL THE SKY.
LAUGR: begins 10 pm east coast / 7 pm west coast
http://www.nowlive.com/show/maddog66
Parallel The Sky:
www.myspace.com/parallelthesky
LAUGR: begins 10 pm east coast / 7 pm west coast
http://www.nowlive.com/show/maddog66
Parallel The Sky:
www.myspace.com/parallelthesky
11.2.09
SPIKE RUNS AWAY!
He tests me every day, that Alpha-Omega thing. Those eyes, one blue, one brown, they fire just right when he's on a roll. It is not a time to be weak, he will walk all over you, and he doesn't forget.
What you got? Flesh and bone? He's got those choppers, those paws that got claws. You got size, he's got brute force. He's 8 weeks old.
I never liked to leash a dog, let them run free I'd say. Siberian Husky and American Bulldog mix, whatever? Yeah, whatever.
He was on the edge of the woods. "Spike!" I said, "come in here". He snorted and galloped off into the deep woods. Where 3 inch saw briers climbed, combining with Blackberry vines. A place I could not go.
"Spike!"
He ran on deeper, faster. Over the mountain. Not saying a word, just getting outta sight and streamlining the getaway, he was like greased lightning on the hot rails, he was outta here!
It was about noon. Though a good 100 square yards of thick woods were the place, on almost every side there were residences and subdivisions. I cruised them all, saying since he was a puppy he'd take up with somebody. Knowing he was probably way in those woods, having adventure casserole; with coyotes, wild dogs, poisonous snakes and the lot coming out in this 70 degree temp. But I didn't worry.
About dark, after being out whistling and calling and getting all the canines in the neighborhood barking, I'd hit the 6 hour hunt check in. It wasn't good. Spike was gone!
As the sun faded, I called my sister. Her place was the last vicinity he'd been spotted at, a 2 foot rat running though the underbrush. I told her to keep an eye out, seemed like I'd heard his yelp way back in the woods, over the hill, into the brambles when I'd been out relating the situation via sound waves. She liked the little guy, I knew she'd make a holler or two before bedtime.
I collected his little supplies of toys, and knotted rags, the poor man's gel bone, his favorite blanket he liked to trash, tomorrow I'd throw them into the burn pit. I couldn't stand the smell, his own scent, different for every animal, hanging around if their benefactor wasn't connecting.
I felt like Timmy in that movie Lassie Come Home. 'cept Lassie wasn't vaulting over the ridge. I wanted to believe Spike was beginning his new life with the kids up in the neighborhood, but still I couldn't shake the mental image of him in the brush pile by the side of the path, laughing his ass off while he snoozed and alternated between pooping, peeing, and sleeping, the usual 8 week dog stuff sans USA 2009.
15 minutes later, she called and said she had him. My sister had went out to smoke a cigarette, started calling his name. The spirit did appear. As a very scared little dog who had been out there all day, in the tangled thorns of trinity. Eat Sleep Play replaced with Fear Move Access, the soldier's creed.
Or had he been watching, waiting till "he" was ready.
Never underestimate the dog.
He tests me every day, that Alpha-Omega thing. Those eyes, one blue, one brown, they fire just right when he's on a roll. It is not a time to be weak, he will walk all over you, and he doesn't forget.
What you got? Flesh and bone? He's got those choppers, those paws that got claws. You got size, he's got brute force. He's 8 weeks old.
I never liked to leash a dog, let them run free I'd say. Siberian Husky and American Bulldog mix, whatever? Yeah, whatever.
He was on the edge of the woods. "Spike!" I said, "come in here". He snorted and galloped off into the deep woods. Where 3 inch saw briers climbed, combining with Blackberry vines. A place I could not go.
"Spike!"
He ran on deeper, faster. Over the mountain. Not saying a word, just getting outta sight and streamlining the getaway, he was like greased lightning on the hot rails, he was outta here!
It was about noon. Though a good 100 square yards of thick woods were the place, on almost every side there were residences and subdivisions. I cruised them all, saying since he was a puppy he'd take up with somebody. Knowing he was probably way in those woods, having adventure casserole; with coyotes, wild dogs, poisonous snakes and the lot coming out in this 70 degree temp. But I didn't worry.
About dark, after being out whistling and calling and getting all the canines in the neighborhood barking, I'd hit the 6 hour hunt check in. It wasn't good. Spike was gone!
As the sun faded, I called my sister. Her place was the last vicinity he'd been spotted at, a 2 foot rat running though the underbrush. I told her to keep an eye out, seemed like I'd heard his yelp way back in the woods, over the hill, into the brambles when I'd been out relating the situation via sound waves. She liked the little guy, I knew she'd make a holler or two before bedtime.
I collected his little supplies of toys, and knotted rags, the poor man's gel bone, his favorite blanket he liked to trash, tomorrow I'd throw them into the burn pit. I couldn't stand the smell, his own scent, different for every animal, hanging around if their benefactor wasn't connecting.
I felt like Timmy in that movie Lassie Come Home. 'cept Lassie wasn't vaulting over the ridge. I wanted to believe Spike was beginning his new life with the kids up in the neighborhood, but still I couldn't shake the mental image of him in the brush pile by the side of the path, laughing his ass off while he snoozed and alternated between pooping, peeing, and sleeping, the usual 8 week dog stuff sans USA 2009.
15 minutes later, she called and said she had him. My sister had went out to smoke a cigarette, started calling his name. The spirit did appear. As a very scared little dog who had been out there all day, in the tangled thorns of trinity. Eat Sleep Play replaced with Fear Move Access, the soldier's creed.
Or had he been watching, waiting till "he" was ready.
Never underestimate the dog.
3.2.09
Issue 43 of The Underground Sound, the original music fanzine on the web, IS UP! This issue; SEX, DRUGS & ROCK N ROLL!
Reviews of:
ALL HELL
NINETAIL
PROJECT INDEPENDENT VOLUME V
JIM SINISTER
V-RATS
SYNCHRONY
VERTIGO
DECEMBER'S COLD WINTER
http://undergroundrecords.org/sound
Also in this Issue:
* We continue our Ron Asheton tribute
* Kermit goes to rehab (Miss Piggy on tha tweek!!)
* Big Pharma's anti-drug lobby (funding the drug squads as the till runs dry)
* Concerts & High Cotton
* ALL HELL Interview
* Pornstar skateboarders
* Underground Theater Opens
* Wind Burn & Hot Bisquits in Rio
THE UNDERGROUND SOUND ISSUE 43
http://undergroundrecords.org/sound
ROCK ON!
Reviews of:
ALL HELL
NINETAIL
PROJECT INDEPENDENT VOLUME V
JIM SINISTER
V-RATS
SYNCHRONY
VERTIGO
DECEMBER'S COLD WINTER
http://undergroundrecords.org/sound
Also in this Issue:
* We continue our Ron Asheton tribute
* Kermit goes to rehab (Miss Piggy on tha tweek!!)
* Big Pharma's anti-drug lobby (funding the drug squads as the till runs dry)
* Concerts & High Cotton
* ALL HELL Interview
* Pornstar skateboarders
* Underground Theater Opens
* Wind Burn & Hot Bisquits in Rio
THE UNDERGROUND SOUND ISSUE 43
http://undergroundrecords.org/sound
ROCK ON!
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