OMGGGGGZZZZZZ I’M GUNNA SEEEE ABUNCH OB YOU GUISE IN A COUPLE DAYS AT ELLISMANIA 9 LOLOLOLOL JK LMFAO BUT NOT THE BAND CAUSE THOSE GUYS SUCKED! But seriously, I’m excited. Gonna be a great weekend. It’s making my boner for violence and suffering throb with anticipation. So anyways, today’s show started off much like many others with some Metallica and an Australian man yelling stuff about stuff. In particular, yelling about how you gotta remind yourself how good every day really is, even if it’s bullshit, cause if you believe it long enough it’ll come true eventually. There was also some talk about how great it’s been becoming a fighter now that skating isn’t really that good of an option anymore. But even if your first option comes to an end without accomplishing everything you wanted to, you can always get passionate about something else and give that a good solid try. It’s been tough planning this EllisMania too, seeing as there’s no manager to drop the whole project on, so Ellis has been losing sight of what a great time EllisMania can be. But he’s back on the train to have a fucking great weekend. As the event is drawing closer, the guys are all abuzz about it, so that’s most of what the talk was for a while. Planning, logistics, who’s bringing lube, Lil’ Miss Ellis, and such and such. Long story short, if you miss it you might as well put an old tire over your shoulders and set it on fire, cause shit is gonna be poppin’ the fuck off. Tully almost went to the bar where Rawdog’s sister works, but then he read the Yelp reviews and unless you’re paying a whole night for bottle service you ain’t getting a seat, and unless you know somebody, you might as well just stay home (even though nobody there is famous or important). Of course, the Tussin Wolf doesn’t have to worry about nightclub problems, cause he’s gonna be in his room with everybody who gets past the clog in the door to bang the living shit out of him and his girlfriend. Whether he is actually planning it or not, whether he wants it or not, whether he survives Nick Swardson’s blow job or not, Rawdog is gonna be part of a meat pile that would put ancient Greece to shame. And as much as he tries to back pedal on the offer that he placed to make it happen, Tully and Jason are full steam ahead to have him made into an airtight ski pole by anyone who wants to partake. The TV was going in the background and Ellis saw a pelican covered in oil and it gave him the idea that someone should make a car that runs on blood. It would get 3,000 miles to the pint and have enough power to pull a 20ft. boat up the Donner pass. If anybody out there reading this is into science, I would like to see you make this happen (Even though I’m quite confident that no one reading this is into science). The guys were talking guns for a bit and Rawdog had to get weird and start talking about how absolutely badass it would be to own a musket, and Tully got the notion that it would be even more badass to watch Rawdog try to actually use the thing and gamble on whether or not any spectators of this debacle would survive. Hey, what would you do if marijuana grew human vaginas? Like a pussy flower or something? You’d fuck it, right, cause a garden of pussy is pretty much the American dream, and you can smoke your own cum and nobody would say you’re a creepy mother fucker for stuffing your wad in a gravity bong. Let’s ponder this over some comedy metal ballad about one man’s vision of heaven.
HOLLYWOOD NEWS! Andy Dick was spotted high as all fuck out on the town the other night, so basically just being Andy Dick. The guys tried calling Andy Dick but might have accidentally hung up while the phone was still ringing, so they thought about calling Dingo instead, but decided it was probably better to just try Andy again. He wasn’t available so Jason left a message, and then called Dingo anyways cause it’s entertaining to hear him talk sometimes. The guys talked about the MVP trophy that was made for EllisMania by one Aaron Hunzinger (ahdidit.com @AHdidit on the twitter) and from all reports, it sounds like the kind of thing I would like to have made for myself. Plus I’ve seen it on Instagram and it kicks the cunt out of every peewee soccer trophy your kids will ever earn. In unfortunate news regarding EllisMania, Madchild isn’t gonna be able to make it because Canadian customs is kind of a bitch and won’t let him out of the country for a weekend to go to Vegas and perform at his friends event, cause it’s not like a musician would have any reason to ever do that or anything. Luckily though, the rest of the weekend will still be awesome and it’s not like Madchild is dead or anything, so you can always keep an eye out for him coming to a spot near you. And you might get to hear a girl trying to sing Primus or possibly Slayer. And maybe some dude is gonna be forced to sing Xanadu in front of a crowd of people too. The guys played around with some questions to ask the Lil Miss Ellis contestants too, like what would you do if you were a part of the Rawdog Fuck Fest 10,000? or Why does Santa Claus hate the Jews so much? Or why do the Jews and Gays all want to bang Santa in the ass and hear about how much he loves it? Some dude called to try and get footage of Rawdog and Karla together and then started talking some dumb shit and got thrown off the air for being a tard. Word of advice kids, your mom’s probably gone ass to mouth and maybe even let somebody piss in her hair. It’s totally possible whether you want to admit it or not, so sometimes the idiocy that you want to let spill out of your mouth needs to just stay where it is. And if the only thing you’re known for is rolling a three paper joint I’VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU MOTHER FUCKER I ROLLED A QUARTER OUNCER IN ONE SHOT AND IT WAS PERFECTLY STRAIGHT FROM END TO END AND WE GOT HIGH AS FUCK but I got no reason to go advertising it cause it’s not that important in the grand scheme of things. There were some more phone calls that were not as stupid as the first two and it redeemed a little bit of my faith in humanity, but not a whole lot, so lets have some Ozzy to remind us all why evil is just fantastic and then regroup.
You’d be amazed to know that most people check their phones about 110 times a day, so roughly 4 times an hour if you stay up for 24 hours straight. But since we all know that smart phones are the new crystal meth, let’s move on to something way more important, like old timey slang words! It should be obvious at this point that Rawdog is doing this whole bunch of stuff, because he’s secretly a Steam-goth who would like things to return to the way it was in Victorian England but with computers and house music. A couple of them were decent, like calling cigarettes gaspers, or an engagement ring a handcuff, but for the most part people have progressed to things that are newer and better like NEW MUSIC TUESDAY! Today, I’ve actually got a bunch of shit to do this afternoon to get ready for EllisMania, so I’m gonna keep this short and just say that pop music really sucks and a lot of the bands you were expecting to hear probably didn’t get played and it’s almost certain nothing debuted today will ever be played on Faction for any reason ever again. If you want to check out some stuff that may be new to you even if it’s not brand new, I recommend Bobby Joe Ebola and the Children MacNuggits, The South Central Skankers, Dear Landlord, Snuff, and Dan P And The Bricks. Just give them a try, if you don’t like anything from any of those guys, I will gladly refund you the $0 you spent having me tell you about them. I completely skipped NMT cause seriously, I can’t stay up late doing this shit tonight. I love you guys, but I gotta pack so that I’m actually wearing clothes when I meet all of you in Vegas on thursday and don’t have a hobo face beard and mad National Geographic style pubes. If you’ve ever seen me hold a recap over till the next morning, it’s cause I’m a terrible procrastinator. Or the on demand replay didn’t get put up till late. Anyways, PANTERA!!! GOOGLY BOO!!! STOP FOCUSING ON MY SHORTCOMINGS!!!
Not really sure what point I came back to the show at cause I was getting fumigated with exhaust and industrial chemicals (allegedly it was on accident), but what I’m gonna pick back up on is that somehow the guys started talking about eagles and trying to compare the kind of predatory shit they do and if Dikembe Mutumbo is a more vicious killing machine, compared to a less black person like LL Cool J or Blair Underwood. The final conclusion is that by today’s standards, the Eagles wouldn’t be able to do much damage, but in the “Hotel California” and “cocaine is not habit forming” days, they could rip a deer’s spine out before the fucker hit the ground. And Rawdog seems to think that a seagull would need to be possessed by some sort of apocalyptic force to be the absolute bastard of the waterfowl world that we all already know that it is. Of course the perfect segue for all this bird talk is to bring up a story about some pro skateboarder trying to stimulate his asshole with a toaster, after Tully found a news story of a guy who got his dick stuck in one over in England. Of course, when you hear a story like this you can’t help but try to play out the logistics of it in your head, and while you’re pondering it, you can listen to Tully and Katie pound out the look good naked workout, providing us great audio of Katie as she may or may not sound during sex (depending how it’s done to her, cause ladies can make different sounds depending how you pound it (I’ve done enough research to know this)). The guy who built the MVP trophy called in to thank Ellis for the shout out and swing his balls just a bit cause why the hell wouldn’t you in a situation like that? There were some more phone calls while the workout was going on and most of it was pretty standard fare, like people not knowing that Ellis is the one answering the phones. One guy called with a real problem, he’s been mixing up painkillers and his kids ADD meds and snorting the mixture up on his free time, and he’s starting to realize that shit’s getting bad and he needs to tell his wife and ask for some help. As it usually goes, Ellis let him know that telling him and the listeners is a good first step, but he’s gonna have to go talk to a professional and be ready to dump all this on his wife and be honest, and that shit may not go exactly how he wants but it’s gonna be better than being a doped out shithead. There were some diet questions and how smoking crack never really seems like a good idea unless you’re already smoking crack and not being a snooping bitch and stealing stuff from your friend’s medicine cabinet and ruining their Christmas party and how going to the gym and having whiskey for dinner gives you the kind of look that men used to have when men were still men. And some other shit. And if anybody’s still using MySpace, and wants to see Ellis’ cock, then you better start betting on Ruediger to win this Saturday cause the gauntlet has been thrown down between Jason and the guys and the stakes are one beautifully artistic frame of Australian shaft on MySpace for one week if Ellis loses. And as the workout is winding down and we all stop looking over our shoulders to make sure management doesn’t catch us grinding out a handful of goo, some more phone calls that were generally forgettable and an insult to Alexander Graham Bell’s legacy, aaaaaaaaanndd BRUCE LEE MUSIC!
As EllisMania draws closer, I am excited to see so many of my old friends and see a bunch of people drunk that I probably wouldn’t hang out with when they’re sober, but we’ll all bro down and watch a gang of dumb mother fuckers throwing shitty haymakers and getting cracked in the head at random by cheap shots from professionals with no actual involvement in the original brawl, as only one event can promise. To one very special reader of this recap, it won’t be the same without you there, you really made my birthday last year. To the rest of you, I still have some Team Shit Toboggan panties that I would really like out of my house before I start feeling any creepier than I already know I am.
Red Dragons, Mother Fuckers ,,rr,