Posted by: shotgunfacelift | October 1, 2009

Megadeth “Endgame” Review

I know this is a departure from my usual sort of blog post, and many of you won’t even bother to read this or probably don’t care but I’m going to post it anyways as I love this album.

I’ll start by saying I’ve really heard an album in the last five years that have got me as excited as this one. Quite a while ago, their demo single ‘Headcrusher’ was put up for download on their website for twenty four hours. Ever since hearing that, I could sort of guess that this album would be as good as it turned out to be.

Every year you’d hear a crescendo of chants saying that the next Metallica, Megadeth or Slayer album is ‘Old school’ and that they’ve gone ‘back to their roots’ and this time you’d be a fool not to believe the hype.

Its the End of the road, its the End of the line, its the Endgame.

It's the End of the road, it's the End of the line, it's the Endgame.

As you can see, the cover art is excellent. What does it mean? It’s a whole bunch of people in Guantanamo like suits being lead off somewhere, freaky. The entire album is very political, and is ‘based’ of Alex Jones’ documentary of the same name (Endgame.)

Anyways, Enough about that – Let’s talk about the actual tracks.

So, as some of you may know, Megadeth signed a new guitarist, Chris Broderick of Nevermore/Jag Panzer to work on this new record and I have no regrets about announcing him as the best part of the album. He is absolutely insane and takes guitar solo’s to the next level. Here’s two examples. I mean, what the fuck, is this guy human?

Chris Broderick means business:

You face was utterly destroyed, right?

So yes, this album has some -mindblowing- solo’s on it, for sure. That’s not all though, Dave Mustaine’s riffs on this record are gritty and violent. Apparently he’s been keeping these riffs in a little box for a rainy day and used them all up making this album.

Favourite tracks: How The Story Ends, The Right To Go Insane, 44 Minutes, The Hardest Part of Letting Go, Dialectic Chaos – Christ, I’m listing them all out!

Buy this album, listen to it, stick it up your arse, sleep with it. Just do it.

It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.

Posted by: shotgunfacelift | September 29, 2009

Art on WordPress – A definition


Posted by: shotgunfacelift | September 29, 2009

The evils of the ‘What I did today’ blog post

Almost every blog has one. You – yes, you – probably have at least one of these posts on your blog.

What kind of a post am I on about? Ah. The one that started it all. The quasi-diary entry blog post, a delight to read most of the time. Mainly consists of:

1. A mind numbing paragraph about what clothes you wore, what you had for breakfast and how tired you were in the morning.

2. A minimum of a sentence on how bad your headache was.

3. A series of absolutely amazing events which most of us probably won’t see in our entire lifetimes, but no, you’re different. The President showed up at your university and you punched him in the face and called him a dickhead. (or in other words ‘The usual’)

You know it's true

You know it's true

4. A blatant exaggeration of mundane, daily events

5. The cliche paragraph about your friends, wherein you make us all feel inadequate by describing how you discussed ‘x’ topic on an interpersonal level with your amazing buddies and how you did loads of cool shit.

I’m sure these posts make people feel better about themselves for a brief moment, But yes, most of what people write in posts like these is what they wish they were doing as opposed to what they actually did. In actuality it was probably just another day. But hey, who wants to read about you waking up, being groggy, going to uni and coming back relatively uneventfully?

Posted by: shotgunfacelift | September 28, 2009

5 Types of Blogs you should be killed for creating

I don’t like blogs, much. That may sound paradoxical, since I’m writing this on a blog, but yes. Moving on.

Out of all the blogs I’ve read (many) I’m surprised, shocked and most importantly, appalled to report that a vast majority of them are filled with nothing. Paragraph upon paragraph of meaningless, hollow, abstract textual excrement. I can tell you use a Macintosh from the tonality of your writing, you fucking faggot.

Chronic idyllic misanthropic delusions parotid gland melancholy waters - This blog post is going to be awesome!

Chronic idyllic misanthropic delusions parotid gland melancholy waters - This blog post is going to be awesome!

While ‘reading’ (assuming reading to be used in the context of actual visual comprehension, which is impossible reading the ‘conventional’ blog.) these blogs, I can’t help but to wonder how anyone could conjure up such rubbish – even in their sleep – of the kind I’d find on most blogs.

I’m going to dedicate this post to the types of blogs I hate, with a passion – and by default, this hate extends to the authors of such blogs. I’d like nothing more than to see you burn.

1. The Teenage girl: Posts consist of the monotonous day to day activities of yet another teenage girl. Common keywords: Boyfriend, text messages, headache, ‘girlfriends’, clothes, shoes, lists of her favourite songs, what she ate for breakfast,  periods and everything in between.

These bloggers should be brutally mashed into a pulp with a herring.

Soooo today I had eggs in the morning (and period pains and a headache :( OUCH!) hehe and then this guy came over hes so cuuuuteee.. (ad infinitum)

Soooo today I had eggs in the morning (and period pains and a headache 😦 OUCH!) hehe and then this guy came over he's so cuuuuteee.. (ad infinitum)

2. The ‘poet’: A blog slotted into this category presents a horrendous repertoire of ‘poetry’ not fit to be read by man or beast just for you. I can’t begin to imagine what kind of people would actually read through such blogs. Infact, I’ve become so accustomed to not reading these pages that if I visit a blog and see text organised in the fashion of verses and so on, I’m out of there before you can say ‘motherfucker’.

T.S Eliot - Turning in his grave since 2001.

T.S Eliot - Turning in his grave since 2001.

3. The Amateur Photographer: I can’t express in words how much I hate these people. I want to deliver to them an inconcievable amount of pain immediately. On their blogs, you’ll usually find photo’s of drab inanimate objects in the obligatory sepia or black and white tone.

That apple on your desk isn’t fucking cool.

Not cool.

Not cool.

4. The Pseudointellectual: I’ve often wondered how one distinguishes between an intellectual and the half baked version of the aforementioned. I came to the conclusion that you just know. It isn’t hard, take this classic example of pseudointellectualism for example.

“Strolling on a trodden road the pavement approaches with it’s edges falling down into rubble, rubble into water into earth. I remove the wall of text from my eye, sway it down gently till the pages collapse into each other and a stride towards the four-paned window.”

Simply sublime, to the eyes of a brain damaged 5 year old, maybe. The authors of such blogs will usually own a Macintosh computer, turtleneck sweaters, a pair of thick rimmed glasses and a big fucking mouth.


Strolling on the trodden road, the pavement approaches..

5. The Lister: Assumes a horrid likeness to tabloid newspapers, and churns out blog posts such as ‘7 things you wouldn’t want to be caught doing at work’, ‘9 things you wouldn’t want to be fucked in the arse with’. Give it a rest, man.

This concludes this article. Don’t forget; I hate you.

Posted by: shotgunfacelift | September 27, 2009

Girls can’t be funny

And that’s that.

I’ve never come across a woman who’s made me laugh. It’s not like I haven’t tried. I’ve had a chat with women from a multitude of different backgrounds, nationalities, religions and political opinions and they all seem to be – in every sense of the word – boring.

So then, I was like - youre fat! Hahaha

'So then, I was like - you're fat! Hahaha'

I’m not even trying to have a go at them, I mean, really. Let’s take a look a couple of facts here:

The Writers Guild of America reports that women make up 27 percent of television writers and only 19 percent of feature film writers. I mean, that’s saying something.

All those films you’ve watched, all those television shows that have made you gag or have acted as a proxy pick-me-up have probably be written by men.

I wonder why. Girls just can’t be funny. They can’t. I’m sick of pretending to laugh at their dumb ‘jokes’. If I were to be myself while talking to a girl, I’d have a completely neutral look on my face. No emotion. And that’s the truth.

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