You know what?

If I said that really condescendingly it would be a good insult, but if I say it with a smile it sounds like I am about to tell you something, and I am! There is one thing I like to do before I sit down to write blogs. Nope, guess again, I like to put on some groovy tunes! Well, hey, let’s get real: it’s about a week into December and from what I can remember I am getting weak in the knees with anticipation. Am I anticipating the antifreeze? No! I’m anticipating the poinsettias, mistletoe, wreaths, ivy, holly and evergreens! As I began this blog I put on one of my all time favorite Christmas songs: “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”

Go ahead and press play there, it makes a good background track.

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Hello again, Smartass radio’s Michael Jackson correspondent Megan Riebesell here, just checking in to follow up on the status of our dearly beloved.  As we all could have predicted, not even MJ’s passage into eternity could ease the controversy that besieged him all his life.  Back here on earth, we are still picking away at every morsel of flesh that our ugly beaks can scrape off his bones.  People are still making  careers out of revealing any kind of sensitive information they can dig up in his wake, so-called “artists” are  still depending on his legacy for their own shot at celebrity or capital, and the fat, greedy vultures of the world are still milking his hard-earned masterpieces for every pathetic cent they can steal.  However, do not fret, I am here to remind everyone that Michael’s pure soul, which was always too powerful to be contained by a simple human body, has finally reached its proper ranking among the gods, as an immortal presence.  Of course, Michael’s kingdom in the great beyond is immune to the commotion of silly, frantic scavengers still chirping his name down here.  Rest in assurance, MJ smiles down on all of his children still, giggling at our antics.

That being said, skimming through Jacko’s most recent controversy was actually a pretty hilarious and  of course bizarre venture. Where do I even begin?

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Hey kiddies! Uncle Chach-nof-ski has returned! For the record, I’d like to say that my L.L. Cool J-esque comeback has nothing to do with that terminally ill child who promised to stop writing me three letters a day if I started regular contribution again. I know that after the Michael Jackson/Farrah Fawcett/Cory Lidle thing no one can stand more bad news. Unfortunately, his Chachness has one more vine of sour grapes. Trent Reznor, the front man of your favorite band when you were in the seventh grade, has deleted his Twitter account!

According to Rolling Stone, “Prior to the deletion, Reznor talked about ditching Twitter because, simply, ‘Idiots rule.’ As Reznor reiterated in his NIN.com post, it was the trolling that made Twitter insufferable for him and caused the sudden end of @trent_reznor.”

Probably too old for Twitter anyway…

I realize that we haven’t heard the sweet tweetings of our gallant Trent since the tail end of July, but panic you should not! As a long time fan and stalker of Trent, I, the Great Chachámaron am here to catch you (yes even you in the XXL black Downward Spiral tee with the eleven stupid bracelets) up on his daily murmurings.

Some people say Wheaties is the breakfast of champions. I jerk off to David Bowie’s Laborynth every morning! Nothing ever Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!
9:06 AM from TweetDeck

Remember when I had to like Johnny Cash’s cover of my song “hurt” just because he was dying? Yikes. Our version was way better.
12:21 PM from TweetDeck

God I love PETA. NIN stopped touring because I couldn’t bear to look at all the fans wearing fur anymore.
1:58 PM from TweetDeck

I lied. The real reason we stopped is that Perry Farrell filled my hotel room with blind men from Match.com last time we played Jersey.
3:34 PM from TweetDeck

The woman at the table next to me is eating the most delicious looking lamb! God I hate PETA!
6:41 PM from TweetDeck

Ah! Nothing like a warm cup of Earl Grey and a huge shot of heroin after a long day.
7:38 PM from TweetDeck

Even though Cody Chestnut does look good in leather, I’d prefer he didn’t wear leather as much as he does. I mean what about PETA?
9:01 PM from TweetDeck

Nevermind. I’m watching him on YouTube and he looks damn good in leather. But Cody’s the only exception. Don’t any of you get any leather ideas!
9:03 PM from TweetDeck

Wow. I’m almost too tired to listen to Ziggy Stardust and touch myself before I fall asleep. Goodnight Moon!
10:10 PM from TweetDeck

HELLO VIETNAM!!!

I hope you all have been enjoying this gorgeous sunny, summer weather. I know that, at least here on Long Island, it is really starting to warm up. Finally that comfortable outdoor weather that everyone longs for all year!! Anyway, if you’re like me, warm weather means it’s beach time!! It’s time to load up the woody with inner tubes, shave the snow cone ice and oil up those biceps… we’re going to the beach!!!

Sun, Sun, Sun!!!

Now while at the beach it’s imperative that you have everything set up so you are ready to relax to the max. That means proper attire: wet suit, flippers, goggles, snorkel, swimmies and peg-leg. It also means proper snacks: hot pretzels, fondu, fresca, grape twizzler pull-n-peels, a bottle of ether and a rag. But most importantly it means having the right music to listen to while you relax to the max.

And if you still haven’t found the right songs for the summer, you have come to the right place. I have always been ahead of the curve when it comes to music and I have found the perfect beach album for the summer: Mastodon’s 2004 release “Leviathan.” I picked up this vinyl last week and did not hesitate to put it on during my ride to the shore this past weekend. It was the most fun I’ve had next to the ocean in years, let me tell you why:

If your day at the beach isn’t this exciting you are fucking it up.

I woke up early Saturday morning (I wanted to beat the beach rush). The cooler was loaded to the brim with Bud Light Red Onion and, of course, grape Twizzler Pull-n-Peels. I unwrapped the “Leviathan” vinyl, the sun shining on my skin, and set it gently on my car’s record player. I did a quick preliminary squirt of sun-screen, stepped into my flip-flops, set the needle on the record and listened to the happy-go-lucky sounds of the first track ring out as I drove off for a day of fun in the sun:

I think that someone is trying to kill me
Infecting my blood and destroying my mind

Now I realize this is not your typical beach music (let’s say that Jack Johnson or Red Hot Chili Pepper singles are typical beach music), but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it. I mean if you really listen to the album you’ll see that it’s about fishing, and what is more nautical than fishing? Answer: nothing. Better answer: the ocean. I know that “Leviathan” and Mastodon in general can be a little, let’s say…sandy?…but that did not stop them from making a terrific album for metal-heads, surfer dudes and sea critters alike. Also I know whales aren’t fish, but please – I’m just trying to relax here.

It was a little after nine in the morning, but already the sun was glaring. I opted to just roll down the windows, rather than use the A/C. It was totally worth it. The fresh air, the sweet smell of hibiscus in bloom and the sun, the shining glorious sun!! The lyrics, “I am completely immersed in darkness As I turn my body away from the sun” blazed just as brightly from the stereo and my face was all smiles.

I arrived at the beach in exactly three minutes and forty-nine seconds, removed my portable record player and carried it to the beach as the second track of the album came on “I Am Ahab.” Another fishing reference!!! So beachy!!! The first lyrics are so, so true: there is “a magic in the water that attracts all men”…the magic of boogie boarding!!!  Yay!! In a full wet-suit and with a mouth full of grape Twizzler Pull-n-Peel, I grabbed my boogie board and hit the surf.. The water was cool and refreshing and the next song, “Seabeast,” was the perfect soundtrack for when I started to drown.

This is what DJ looks like during the groove in “The Last Baron“

An undertow was pulling me, my boogie board and my purple-colored Twizzler-tongue down to Davy Jones’ locker. I was a little scared, but also kind of just digging the song. The gentle lap of the guitar, the pitter-patter of the kick drum. So beach-y, so aqua-rific. Within inches of my life I started to think about how great the word “aqua-rific” is and made a mental note to include the made-up word in my next blog post. Mission accomplished.

With my last breath extinguishing itself in my lungs, I was somewhat saddened that I would soon be no more, but I was also fairly content that I died after having such a great day at the beach. Also, one of my favorite tracks on the album, “Island,” was coming on next….but wait at these depths the music was fading away?! I needed to hear the next song!! I thought, “Oh well, I guess I should at least try to survive…” And so I did. With the giggling tom-toms a-poundin’ and the wavy screams a-screamin’ I made it to the surface and washed ashore beside an orange Italian eating an orange Italian ice. I raised my head to comment on the hilarity, but then I passed out because I had almost drowned.

I woke up around noon, half buried in the sand, and burnt to a crisp. Not from the sun, but because tracks 5, 6, 7 and 8 had melted my face. I crawled my way over to my blanket just as the summerjam tune “Hearts Alive” came on. Glad to be alive myself, I looked around the now-crowded beach and thought about just how terrific this album was for the sand-swept scene. I started to relax on my towel, but had trouble moving my newly burnt arms. I felt almost as immobile as Brent Hinds did after his brain hemorrhaged. ZING!!! As the song began to soar as high as the seagulls and banner-trailing planes, I looked at the children digging in the sand and thought of drummer Brann Dailor trying to dig up his dead sister while tripping on acid. ZING!!! I looked at the lifeguard stand and could imagine Queequeg climbing it like a crow’s nest. NOT REALLY A JOKE!!! I saw a young lady sucking on a popsicle like it was a harpoon. JOKE?? I saw a young albino boy devour a man’s leg.  LIKE MOBY DICK!!! Yes, I thought, “Leviathan” is the perfect album for the summer.

By the way, I’m just kidding…Twizzler never made a grape flavored pull-n-peel.

STAYED TUNED FOR MY NEXT SUMMER MUSIC REVIEWS:
“Blood Mountain” the Perfect Album for a Day of Family-Hiking!!
AND
“Crack the Skye” the Perfect Album for Your Flight to Disney!!

If you aren’t an alarmist FoxNews viewer, you’re probably not familiar with the term “sexting.” Clearly, I am. Sexting is the awful play on words that describes when one individual, by their own choosing, takes a naked picture of themself and sends it to someone else via SMS (Short Message Service). The solution to this scourge? Giving the sweet naked pics to this guy. What kills me about the following quote is the use of the sentence structure to create a scene which resembles that of a real job and attorney should be doing, like reviewing photos of the scene of a murder, rape, minor traffic violation, etc.:

Photos of their semi-nude or scantily clad teenage daughters were stacked before him. Mr. Skumanick said the images had been discovered on cellphones confiscated at the local high school.

I can’t believe this is really an issue parents (or anyone) is shocked by. It’s 2009 – could you dolts really be so naive to think your kids aren’t using every piece of technology almost exclusively for personal sexual gratification?

The first text ever.

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Who is Barry Popkin? You mean you don’t know! He’s the director of the obesity center at the University of Carolina (which means he probably looks like the offspring of Roseanne Barr and a skyscraper). Papa Popkin recently preformed a study (no, not breakfast) that yielded startling results. Hold onto your hats kids, because the Chach-nooka and he who loves it when you call him big Popkin are about to rock your world.

I’m not convinced. Here’s a picture of my breakfast. – DJ

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I like to have a good time! If you can’t stomach that fact, then it’s high time you got on out of here, because that, my friend, is an unquestionable truth. I like to have a good time. DJ likes to have a good time. Peter Paul Marsh III (American Hero) loves to have a good time. Of course, Chachi likes having a good time. Frank can have a good time. Even Patty, that old, puritanical, straight-laced lesbo, likes to have a good time sometimes. Everyone here at SmartassRadio likes to have a good time. Essentially, having a good time is what we’re all about.

When you’re having a good time you don’t want to be making decisions. And if you do need to make a decision, you want to make it fast. Still, sometimes making a decision can be difficult. Especially, when that decision involves the good time you are about to have.

Imagine the scenario: You’re standing in your kitchen getting ready to party. You are just on the brink of it, and you can smell the good times ahead. Then two of your best buddies walk in. One says: “Yo man, you ready to go bananas?” and the next says, “Hey bro, you want to go hog wild?”  What are you going to choose?

Filbert doesn’t do either.

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