Greatest Rock & Roll song ever written. Hands down, no argument, universally accepted. Guitar, bass, drums, vocals and that's it. No bullshit. It's got the kick on the one and three, snare on the two and four; the foundation of rock music. It swings a little, but not enough to be distracting. The lyrics are about toil and rebellion, but not about real struggle and revolution. It's a perfect anthem for middle class teenage ennui. Or, at least, that's how I felt about it three months ago. Now I'm convinced it serves the roles of thoughtless filler, starting point for psychedelic epics, reminder of simpler times, point of irony, barometer of true talent, and occasional tool of sonic torture.

I made this one for last easter. It's still pretty good.

I'm working on something big and nerdy as all hell. It might take a week or two before I can share it, but when I do, I'm pretty sure you'll be excited.

I'm headed back to Japan for a few weeks in June and I'm already getting excited about it. Here is a bit of video footage I shot last time I was there. It really shows what a magical place it is.

Wishing you all a wonderful Valentine.

I hope you're ready for some serious heartache. The following story is true. I've changed a few names and locations to protect people's pride. It's such a weird tale that you'll be loathe to believe it at times, but I assure you it is recounted just as it was told to me by all the people involved. This story is called (in my best redneck accent) 'The Fart What Had Ruined A Man's Life'. This story tells the tale of a guy named Eric. He's from my home town, he grew up about a mile from me. The night I met him I watched him bone a fat ugly girl on the filthy carpet in his shitty apartment.

Jon Stewart on O'Reilly, Stewart gets it going near the end.

You take an old Soviet vacuum tube, a few bits of laser cut acrylic, and a fresh Zappa tune, smoosh them all together, and you get this:

Here comes my friend Adam, drunk as shit, doing his best to make it all the way through Max Romeo's Classic; I Chase The Devil. He's a trooper.

Another successful trip all the way around the sun without electrocuting myself, burning the house down with an unattended soldering iron, or falling asleep while driving. My birthday is Sunday the 31st and I'll finally be old enough to run for president! Sadly, I'll be working all day. It's cool, I need the money. If you'd like to send an electronic high five, you can do it via email, twitter, text, phone, smoke signal, whatever. I'd love to hear from you. If you'd like to be the coolest person in the whole wide world, you can get me this:


I'll be picking out some new seat covers for it so we can look absolutely pimp driving around town together.