Jump to content

Excrement_Cranium

Members
  • Posts

    1,693
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Posts posted by Excrement_Cranium

  1. I don't know if I'd go that far.

    Slash is a pretty damn talented guitarist. He's one of those players where you can tell it's Slash.

    In fact, there was a boondoggle of talented musicians during that time, but the media machine behind it destroyed it.

  2. o no this was the edited version, i dont kno y i wrote 2 but i did, but yea this is the edited version, and i plan on having 2 total verses, ill work on the other one later but im glad to hear that this one was better than my last

    NP.

    I know where you are coming from, and I know what is going on in each version.

    However, creatively, sometimes what defines you can also restrict you.

    You've got a good start, just don't be afraid to dig deeper.

  3. I failed to mention that my first car I got when I was 19... in 1997.

    Got my 8-tracks at Goodwill.

    Also got a lot of old stereo equipment when I was younger, and I had an 8-track-to-cassette adapter.

  4. Excellent edit!

    You have the flow, and while you still hold some of the original content, it isn't overbearing.

    I would say you have the potential to keep evolving, and do pretty well.

    *edit*

    Noticed this was verse 2, and not an edit.

    My comments still stand.

    How many verses?

    Have you thought of a catching close for your final verse?

  5. Bill Scott, better known to his many fans as "Bill the Beerman," died Sunday night from complications of colon cancer originally diagnosed in 2001. He was 58.

    For more than 20 years, Scott led cheers in the Kingdome, starting in 1976 as a beer vendor who spontaneously encouraged fans to shout at Seahawks and Mariners games.

    If you lived here then and went to the Kingdome, you knew him, the big barrel-chested guy with the beard and booming voice who sold you beer and gave you permission to cheer.

    In 1981, the Beerman became a pro cheerleader, hired first by the Seahawks, then the Mariners. The Portland Trail Blazers called him after that, and gigs followed with CBA teams and minor league hockey teams, ultimately ending with the Boise State football team four years ago.

    Article

    --- I remember when we first got our CBA Basketball team, the Sunkings. They hired The Beer Man to come in and liven the joint up.

    He hung around for a couple seasons, and why not? It's just a short jut over the mountains to Yakima, and our little arena was no challenge for his booming voice.

    I can say no game I have attended without The Beer Man were quite as entertaining as those first few with him.

  6. I would say that if you can't find something you don't like in any major Genre (not necessarily sub-genres) then you ain't lookin hard enough.

    Hip Hop ain't lost it's sheen, it's just you can only make so many songs about bitches, weed, 40's, Hoes, Blunts, Tanqueray, Bongs, Bling, Bacardi, Sluts, Grillz, Gangstas, Pimpin, Pimpin Hoes, big wheels...

    So... commercial Hip-Hop is getting worn out like a 10 dollar hooker on the Vegas strip.

    Both rock and Hip-Hop though have such a wide berth that somebody can always come up with a new sound, or new delivery and keep things fresh. But, then fans become fickle, or because the sound sells, it is emulated and beat to death again.

    Fall Out Boy isn't the new boy bands, it's the new Hair Metal.

  7. One of my absolute favorites, from A Time to Kill:

    Jake Tyler Brigance: I want to tell you a story. I'm going to ask you all to close your eyes while I tell you the story. I want you to listen to me. I want you to listen to yourselves. Go ahead. Close your eyes, please. This is a story about a little girl walking home from the grocery store one sunny afternoon. I want you to picture this little girl. Suddenly a truck races up. Two men jump out and grab her. They drag her into a nearby field and they tie her up and they rip her clothes from her body. Now they climb on. First one, then the other, raping her, shattering everything innocent and pure with a vicious thrust in a fog of drunken breath and sweat. And when they're done, after they've killed her tiny womb, murdered any chance for her to have children, to have life beyond her own, they decide to use her for target practice. They start throwing full beer cans at her. They throw them so hard that it tears the flesh all the way to her bones. Then they urinate on her. Now comes the hanging. They have a rope. They tie a noose. Imagine the noose going tight around her neck and with a sudden blinding jerk she's pulled into the air and her feet and legs go kicking. They don't find the ground. The hanging branch isn't strong enough. It snaps and she falls back to the earth. So they pick her up, throw her in the back of the truck and drive out to Foggy Creek Bridge. Pitch her over the edge. And she drops some thirty feet down to the creek bottom below. Can you see her? Her raped, beaten, broken body soaked in their urine, soaked in their semen, soaked in her blood, left to die. Can you see her? I want you to picture that little girl. Now imagine she's white.

×
×
  • Create New...