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why all radio people must die

For those of you who have not been part of an outdoor-music-festival wannabe-thing, let me give you the run-down on how it works.

Here are the players.

Here is how all of these people interact with one another.

Stu wants to fuck Lizardess, so he let her talk Imran into having some shitty band (Turdmoo) she likes be on the bill for the show. In the beginning the whole thing was just our band and Imran's band, but whatever.

So we get there and set our shit up. Dorknuts the Bud Lackey asks us if we want beer on stage, and we ask for bottled water instead. He tells us we can get our own fucking bottled water.

Dipshit, Dumpy and Bleachy conduct a Bud Girl contest, in which some young ladies stuff themselves into short skirts in an attempt to sell beer for a multinational marketing juggernaut.

I just want to play some music.

The radio groupies follow Dipshit around because they are morons, and that's what groupies do.

Dipshit has a wireless mic that he carries around with him, which is hooked up to some speakers on stands outside his radio van. From time to time he blasts stupid jokes into the mic, which no one even grins at.

Let me take a moment to expound on just how evil radio people are. They do not give a FUCK about music, or musicians. All they care about is their egos, and their paltry fame. Radio people are not in radio for the music, and they sure as fuck are not in it for the money. They are in it for the recognition.

I hope they all choke.

Anyway, after we played our set Stu was stumbling around, drunk. Someone said he had tried to fuck Lizardess and she had turned him down.

As the the next was coming on, we found out that Turdmoo was playing the bar inside, while these guys were playing outside trying to make a buck. The inside guys were keeping people away from the outside shit, which was the whole purpose of having the thing in the first place.

So basically, a small block party type of idea became a big goat-fuck of a stillborn marketing idea thanks to the intervention of Budweiser and a radio station. Thanks guys!

I sure do wish it was just about playing music and making people smile or dance, but the fact of it is that marketing drives the music industry. The sad truth is that the entire industry is a slow-moving city bus, encumbered by so many advertisements that it cannot see the way ahead.

It makes me want to puke.

What makes me want to puke even more is when people actually gobble up the tripe that this massive machine feeds them. Pop is not going to eat itself.

As I walked out, I passed a brand new SUV that I had seen the Turdmoo lead guy driving. It had a vanity license plate which read "TURDMOO".

Jesus.

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