We are all good people if we compare ourselves to U2.

Dear U2,

It’s time to stop. Please stop making music. The people that listen to you still are getting bummed. You haven’t released a decent song in about 15 years. If you think it is funny that you keep creating the same trash and repackaging it, you’re right. The joke is on the fans. They are so gullible that they will buy whatever you tell them to. They are aging too. Why don’t you hang up the guitars and start doing ads for topical creams that help hide the rash.
You are a rash that doesn’t spread but instead only gets itchier. No matter how hard society scratches at you, you just pulse up and get sweaty. If you were a book, you’d be Chicken Soup for the Assoul. Listen closely to me U2, YOU ARE NOT THE BEATLES. A rooftop gig will not make you cool. You would’ve been cool if you stopped making music in 1991. Remember this too, Daniel Lanois and Brian Eno made you good. Never forget that you are nothing without a good producer (or two).

Dear Bono,

Shut up.

Dear Friends,

Excuse me in this time of anger. I woke up this morning not pissed. As usual, I checked the BBC tab on my browser and started to read the world news. I like to start with the top stories. After top stories, I check the top stories according to world region. Whilst reading the news, I stumbled upon an article about U2 and realized that I don’t like them anymore and I don’t like U2 fans either. U2 fans are so pretentious (Bono’s fault). They walk around like they care about the world but then you find out they’ve been stealing music for years and they think it is all ok. They have their U2 concert stories and they all claim that Bono went to their church at some point or another. Then I realized the sham. U2 has tricked their fan base with religion. They present themselves like they are leaders of the world, but when it comes down to it they only care about the buck, like most churches. If Bono wants to do something, let him do it without cameras documenting every move. Helping people with aids is cool, but it would probably be way cooler if it weren’t a publicity stunt.

Next on my list of things to get off my chest is racism. Just because the president is black doesn’t mean you should stop making racist jokes. To quote my dear friend Eddie Cruz, “Over-sensitivity is more offensive than bigotry.” To be sensitive to racist jokes/racism is to be a wuss. I’ve been called every racial slur for middle-easterners and I don’t get offended. Instead, I try to come up with new racial slurs. Sand Nigger could offend middle-easterners, black people, and sand.

Dear Middle-Easterners, Blacks, and Sand,

Fight stereotypes by making new, more creative ones. In my case, I could call myself a bean kabob with extra hummus or a walking time-bomb.

Look, we all know that lesbians are funny, but they are funnier when you associate them with Jordache Jeans (Thanks Adam). Of course, lesbians are bitches and they probably won’t think that is funny because of three reasons. 1) I’m a man. 2) They couldn’t come up with that stereotype on their own. 3) They are over-sensitive.

I am telling you this because I want you to be better than the average racist. In order to effectively fight racism you must be a better racist in the face of those who are against you (DO NOT do this at work). The next thing you know, they’ll like you because you gave them new material to use on their friends. If this happens, EVERYONE WINS. You’ve just made a friend with someone that hates you because of how you are. You have just proved to be a rational pacifist, and that is what Jesus would want you to do.

To win in life, you need to be a better liver (take care of your liver while you’re at it).

Eat,

FARTICHOKE

AXL

Seriously Bro (I don't even know why I call you bro anymore).
I'm listening to your new album and an ad popped up telling me to "click here" to continue to listen to "music."

MUSIC?
Is this music? What is this shit?

I am lost in my anger and hatred for Chinese Democracy. I was listening to Use your Illusion I a couple of days ago and I got goosebumps. Now, as I listen to this pile of shit for free on myspace I get reverse goosebumps and I feel as if my skin is trying to hide from the blasphemy it has to sit through. God has disowned you.

If the World

What a joke. Worst song ever next to Sweet Home Alabama. Did you really name a song Catcher in the Rye?

Axl, you're the phony.

You have forsaken rock and roll (and me). You must pay for your sins against our ears. The only reason why I would buy your album is to have something to pee on. I would store your album in a bush in my backyard and every time I feel a pee coming on, I would take my time to go outside and pee on your album. Pee and poo go together. Pee and Chinese Democracy.

I hope you have an army of blog readers that stumble upon my cold words so they can try to take me to court for calling you a DOUCHEBAG and an ASSHOLE and a BRAIDED-MAN-BITCH. You make Bill O'Reilly seem like a good person.

We didn't need Chinese Democracy. You could have just sealed the deal with Use your Illusion II. You could have been a legend. Bro, You wrote Patience and now you put your name on this pee companion that is terrorizing my fragile ears as I type.  

Sorry

Yeah thanks for the apology. At least you took time to say sorry on the album.

"I'm sorry for you." -Axl Rose

Love (or hate),

Ice Kareem

Haiku in Long Form

Stuffy Runny Nose
Because I have Bronchitis
From Not Caring Much

Got New DVD's
Upright Citizens Brigade
Seasons One and Two

Obamanation
Not An Abomination
Conservatives Suck

And On Abortion
Its A Moral Decision
Between You And God

Do Not Kill Babies
Allow Others To Kill Them
So You Can Be Right

If There Is A Wrong
You Need Not Participate
God Gave Us All Choice

Enough About That
I Prefer To Kill Kabobs
On The Grill Outside

I Can't Hear Pink Floyd
But I Can Hear Cover Songs
Done By Les Claypool

Its Time To Go Help
My Parents Entertain Guests
I Want To Drink Beer

Antibiotics
Therefore I Cannot Drink Beer
Orange Juice Is Good

"Till We Meet Again
I Don't Know Where, Don't Know When
On Some Sunny Day"


FARROKH

Miles of the Skunks

I wake up every morning

And my fun meter goes through the roof

I’m shaking like Michael J. Fox

And it’s time for the scoop

Bela is anxious

She wants to eat

I bite her neck

And she bites my cheek

I tell her “Chill Out, Bitch”

And she bites my beard

I growl like construction

And I’m about to be feared

“Just wait till we’re outside,

You’ll see what’s up!”

She blows off my comment

Like I’m a teenage McGruff

Our human tosses us out

And we scatter with the pee-poo walk

I’m still really angry

Too angry to talk

Then I drop my load

And I am suddenly hit

With the scent of a damn sneaky skunk

That smells like my Human’s apartment

That smell get’s me all sick

And Bela sick as well

Like when Human’s house gets smoky

Like the gates of hell

Bela runs for the bushes

And gives a warning shout

And I run passed her and proclaim

“I’m Miles; you better get your ass out!”

That skunk gave a little shiver

And thought twice about dying

And I thought about smelling

Like bad eggs frying

Bela backed off

I was way too hot

I gave a little jump

And skunked is what I got

“Human is going to be so pissed at me”

I howled like a blues hound

Bela told me to shut up

And led me running round

“I know of a bush that’ll cover you up”

She sang and took off

I rushed into a pile of leaves

And it made me cough

She found a swimming pool

Full of chlorine

She told me to take a dip

And I just jumped on in

Then she led me to someone’s garden

And told me to roll around

There were flowers all over

And sprinklers on the ground

The dirt was washed of my back

At the pulse of the sprinkles

And the sound of running water

Made me want to tinkle

Now I was clean

And Bela was fast

She heard Human’s car

And that was that

We ran back to the yard

By Human’s apartment

And all I could think about

Is if I still smelled of that horrid scent

Boxer Fracture Free Writing Excersize

Broken fingers suck. They force you to rethink everyday activities. I have to play guitar percussively. I write like shit, but in that sense nothing has changed. I also have been plagued with an incredibly adaptive form of writer's block (not a product of broken fingers).

"I know where temptation lies, inside of your heart..."-Lou Reed

I've lost my muse, but I still have music.
The muse's feet dance on my heart's floor no more. No more conversations in my head. I am mutually exclusive no more and forever shall we part. The rent is due, bitch.

"It's dark as a dungeon,
Damp as the dew
Danger is double
Pleasures are few..."-Johnny Cash

I'm in a dark mine,
Very few people are actually friends of mine.
I've wasted most of my time
sipping on beer and wine.
I cannot free my mind,
all of my papers are in a bind.
Giants do nothing to help me
God in an uppercase G
God as an uppercase G
And me as a lowercase c
Which stands for crap
as in unholy and unclean.
For to kill a soldier
means being subject to torture
by the platoon
and they are a bunch of goons.

I just found out a friend was arrested for thinking out loud too much.

"We have the suspect in custody."

Don't think.

Blink*


ICE KAREEM