Know what I haven't had in a while? Big League Chew.

I'm sitting at a bar (no surprises here right?) And the Little League World Series is on. It's fascinating and bizarre for a number of reasons. First off, the US seems to be represented on a statewide basis, whereas every other country is listed soley as a country. This makes for an interesting Colorado vs.Australia type dynamic. On the one hand I guess baseball is nost popular here in the states, so it stands to reason that there'll be more talented players per capita here than anywhere else, still it's odd that things are split up that way.
Also each player has their stats listed when at bat, which isn't that weird except that it lists trivia facts like their favorite food and favorite tv shows. It's odd for a couple reasons. First, that just seems like pedophile fuel. Hey, Tommy from Kansas likes s'mores, load up the rape van! Second, in the game I'm watching (Saudi Arabia vs. Japan) a Japanese kid listed his favorite food as cheese, and a Saudi kid just named his as sushi. My mind kinda got blown a little after that last one.
Anyways, I'm gonna finish this beer and head to band practice.
If hating baseball is wrong, than I imagine all my friends are in the right
-Pretzel

Neeed Heroiiiin!

Whattup Assbags?
I'm sitting at home at the moment taking a break from painting.  See I paint stuff.  Not in the "pulling ladders out of the back of an Econoline van" kinda way but the "ooh how marvelous a use of taupe, I simply must have this for my collection" kinda way.  I guess the simple way of saying it would be I'm an artist, but that has so many douchebaggy art school hipster connotations to it that I prefer just to say that I paint shit to amuse myself.  Anywhoo, I'm doing some commission pieces for a girl that I went to school with, and even though I need to put the rush on them (under 2 weeks to finish,) my hands do not want to cooperate with me.  I get shaky hands pretty easily, and I'm sure the amount of coffee and cigarettes I flood my body with isn't helping matters, but I guess that's why they call 'em addictions right?  Eh, long story short, I can't be trusted to pull a straight line right now, so i figured I'd rap with y'all for a minute.

The bandski is planning an early November tour out to Vegas and back.  So far we've only booked Vegas, but tentatively it's gonna be New Orleans, Vegas, Albuquerque, Houston, St. Louis,  and some other places I can't remember off of the top of my head.  Shit should be a blast, we're bringing along Damon's wife Michelle and our roadie (fancy right?) Joe Asshole.  Drunken debauchery and regrettable pictures should ensue.
That's all I've got for you my loves, I'm gonna go eat some food and conquer these damn shakes
Spread 'em if you got 'em!
-Prezel

Contrived Pop Bullshit

I'm at a bar listening to a gentleman whose been heaviliy indulging in some marojuana talk to my girlfriend about Lady Gaga. I have little to nothing to contribute to this conversation.
Wait, now he's talking about raves.
Now they're back to the Gaga.
I'm gonna drink

White Pizza!

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Fucking Danger Will Robinson!

Salutations y'alls!  I know it's been a while since I've posted on here, and for that I'm sincerely sorry.  Shit just gets busy sometimes y'know?  Anyways I was just gonna post this as a Facebook status but I realized I've got way to much rambling to do and not enough space on the 'ole book of face to do so.
Have you seen the new warning labels that are gonna be stuck on cigarettes? From what I gather they're not going into effect until fall of 2012 (assuming the world doesn't end by then) but they are going on every pack in the pretty near future.

Pretty serious shit huh?  Ready for the shock twist in this entry?  I'm completely for these terrifyingly gruesome bastards.  I mean it I think every pack absolutely needs these labels, hell I think every cigarette should have a heat activated chip in it that makes the cigarette yell " Hey dumbass these motherfuckers cause cancer!" in Gilbert Gottfried's voice.  

Fuck you cancer!-Gilbert Gottfired

Think about it, that's more tech jobs building the chips, more work for Mr. Gottfired, and I fucking guarantee earplug sales will skyrocket.

But that's not enough.  No the FDA may be placated with these labels, but I sirs and madams haven't built a safe enough future yet.  Check it, every McDonalds wrapper and every bucket of KFC gets a picture of an obese bloated corpse with the caption "you're eating your arteries to death fatass."  Every bottle of Jagermeister gets a picture of David Hasselhoff eating off the floor that says "you and your whole frat are going to end up like this"  

Just like this Chett, just like this

Every Snickers gets a picture of some british teeth, and every Red Bull gets a blood pressure warning smack dab on the front of it.  Think I'm done? Think again motherfuckers, at birth every child gets a forehead tattoo that indicates they may or may not be a rapist!

We'll be the safest and thusly happiest society in the world, productivity will rise and illegal downloading will end all together (for some reason or another, just go with it.)

I don't have time to wait till 2012 though, so I'm off to Kinkos to print off some labels, see you motherfuckers later!

-Pretzel

The Ex Girlfriend Witching Hour

Dear cockmongers; how's it going?
I realize it's been a while and for that i make no apologies, I've been doing shit.  Belly button lint doesn't pick itself y'know?
I worked at The Ship tonight, and it was murderously slow.  The high/lowlight of my night was a ground of freshly 21 year olds ordering "well's whiskey and cokes" as if well's was a brand of liquor.  Oh that and they kept talking to me about Jersey Shore, tipped like shit, and then one of them had the nerve to ask if we were hiring.  A few terrible customers aside though, tonight was pretty fun.
So since I haven't updated in a while, I'm gonna share a funny story with y'all.
A while ago on the day in which daylight savings time kicks into effect I experienced what I'm going to refer to as the ex girlfriend witching hour.  What might that be you might ask, and might or mightn't you ask I might explain via this tale.  I was at home, laying in bed fucking around on Facebook, much as I am right now.  All of a sudden a girl I dated pretty seriously a long time ago started up a chat with me.  This was odd, as we weren't exactly on good terms, and hadn't spoken in a few years.  I won't lie to you gentle reader, it was a strange and awkward conversation.  She was clearly in a very lonely and vulnerable spot, but as kindhearted and loving as you all know me to be, I had a hard time being empathetic with this girl cuz hey, she did cut me pretty deep years back.
So in the midst of this out of the blue conversation that I'm having a hard time processing, another ex girlfriend calls me.  This lady hadn't spoken to me in roughly 6 months or so, but was drunk at the bar across the street from me and needed a ride home.  Being the great person that I am, I hop up and head over to the bar.  After a short car ride and some slurred thank yous I arrive back at the house.  Here's where shit gets fucking strange.
Hanging on the front door is the same black canvas Sailor Jerry purse that I bought for the first ex I mentioned.  She was as far as I know, a 2 hour drive away at the time, so I don't think it's a stalker in the bushes getting a chubby over my panicked expression type scenario.  It's fucking bizarre though right?  I mean, let's recap:  Exactly as the extra hour in daylight savings time kicks in, 2 of my exes start talking to me, and then a present I bought 3 or so years ago shows u on my door with no explanation (to this day) who put it there or why.  Bizareness though, am I right?
That's all I've got for you today my children.
Go huff some paint and beat up a CVS security guard
-Pretzel

I Have Altered The Deal Pray I Don"t Alter It Any Further

Well hello there turds, didn't see you come in.  Might I be so bold as to say that you all look rather dashing this afternoon?  What's that, you want to hear me ramble a bit?  Well I suppose I can squeeze that into my busy schedule my cupcakes.  

Sometimes I like to think of places it would be awesome to play a show/shoot a music video at.  I think a show in the back of a semi truck would be pretty gnarly, possibly with a side cut out of it, and probably in a sketchy looking industrial parking lot type of setting.  Another of my favorites is rooftops, any show on a rooftop is automatically at least twice as cool in my book preferably with a bunch of gnarly beat up lookin' punk kids.  I feel like nighttime shows are also pretty badass especially when there's floodlights or fire involved as a lighting agent.  Shows and videos in pools are bitching too, whether it be a full pool with a platform in the middle or an empty bowl (preferably with kids skating around the band in it.)  But my ultimate venue choice, wait for it.... motherfucking Cloud City! 

BOOSH!

No sirs and madams, it does not get any fucking cooler than cloud city, it is my life's ambition to play a show in Cloud City and get drunk on Colt 45 with Billy Dee Goddamned Williams.  Think about that shit,  freaky Bespin broads with head tentacles dancing around, that cyborg guy overseeing everything, those weird siamese twin space ships flying around, and Boba fucking Fett lurking in the corner nodding along with the music.  

In my head Boba Fett is a big Involuntarys fan

That my friends would be bad as shit.  I don't want to hear your "Pretzel Cloud City isn't a real place" talk, or your "you're a little to old to fantasize about your band playing in a fictional universe" mumbo jumbo, and certainly not your " the only band that can make it in the Star Wars universe is the cantina band with those dudes that have weird crab vagina mouths" nonsense.  

Fuck all you dream squashers, and fuck all Mos Eisley musicians, I can have dreams too you bastards!

Eh, I'm gonna get drunk and watch return of the Jedi

Wipe front to back!

-Pretzel