behind the posts (a throwback)

you know what one of my secret addictions is? no, not strippers or booze…those are FAR from secret. same can be said for women in general, piercings, tattoos, or concerts. again, ALL very public. no, this one i don’t think i’ve ever mentioned…and i KNOW quite a few of you are right there with me. you might not wanna admit it, but if the comments on this bitch doesn’t have at least ONE confession, then i know FAR too much of my readership is in major denial. and i wanna start a support group:

B.T.M.A.A.

behind the music addicts anonymous. and i know damn well i’m not alone here. if i was, vh1 wouldn’t play them three times a day…and wouldn’t do entire WEEKENDS dedicated to them. like this last one. and you wonder why little got done around here.

there are two types of btma’s…those who casually watch, and those who’s entire day SHUTS THE FUCK DOWN until the closing credits are rolling. guess which one THIS KID is…but i’m not just a casual observer. i use it for educational purposes. although, i can tell when i’m drunk, ’cause then i’m watching and hoping this time it ends different…but never mind that now.

the education has taught me the common threads. fuck that “separate the men from the boys” shit; this is where we separate the “behind the music” folk from the “where are they now?” folk. and it’s not just all current public interest: even REO SPEEDWAGON has their own behind the music episode. and nobody these days gives a FUCK about them. this is where the five D’s come in…

DEATH

someone’s gotta die. maybe it’s the artist being profiled…or just a part of it (like, the bass player or something). or the parent of the singer to where he has to question his career choice even though he’s got sixteen platinum albums and gets to fuck eighteen different porn stars a month at that point. someone has to go. even if it’s one of the fans who’s parents say that the drum line, when played backwards, OBVIOUSLY says “praise jukna”, the aborigine god of self-mutilation, so THAT’S why the kid who always mumbled to himself and wore black slit his own wrists…so now the parents DESERVE seven figures. but it’s just the way it is. like they say, nothing’s as inevitable as death and texas.

DRUGS

total no-brainer here. you have to do drugs. or get slipped drugs. or drive your friends and family into the habit. or have some stripper wife that has to go to rehab. and it better be severe. not that “i once inhaled in college” bullshit. this needs to be that “i got caught walking into a krispy kreme at three in the afternoon on a tuesday in nothing but a fishnet thong and wading boots” kinda shit. or, at the VERY least, maybe your dad had a smack habit and used to smack you around as a result of it. but that crosses into the next D, damn it…

DYSFUNCTION

have the model childhood? great at school? in church? never smoked, drank, or dropped a joint ’cause your dumb-assed friend rolled in a seed and it popped under your finger? BYE!!! have you mended your ways and started snorting blow? dating transvestite hookers instead of your super model girlfriend? what about shot homemade porn with private school girls? no? SEE ‘YA!!! how can we admire your rock and roll lifestyle if you don’t HAVE a rock and roll lifestyle? of course, that squeaky-clean act all fit hammer…and he got HIS own special. how? plenty of the next one…

DECLINE

so, you used to make more in a week than the gross national product of guam? and now you work at denny’s? you are SO in…nothing makes people feel better then to see the person who’s song and video and doll and video game and clothing line got on their LAST motherfucking nerve have to ask them what the problem is when their drunk ass throws syrup on their ihop waitress at three o’clock in the morning when she brings them sausage instead of bacon on their rooty tooty fresh and fruity combo. the higher you were, the lower you better be; cause if you were never that big anyway, you’re doomed to the “where are they now?” bin…

and finally, DEPTH

as in EMOTIONAL depth. someone had to care at some point. you had to make your mark. or STILL be making it. if not, there’s always the one-hit-wonder show with will shatner. don’t laugh…they still had one more hit than any of us.