This Post Is Rated NC-17

This Post Is Rated NC-17 : Stallone's "Cobra" was probably the single most offensive flick I've ever seen.  It's been 20 years or so, and I'm still not over the experience.

Reason for the Season

Well there are presents under the tree

For daddy's little baby and me

And rumors, now tell me the truth

Of reindeer up on the roof

A fat man with fur on his face

Popping out from my fireplace

The cocoa he left in his mug

And footprints all over the rug

But if there's one thing I can't understand

About the myth of this magical man

It's just why the fellow might choose

To steal the glory from the King of the Jews

 

'Twas Santa Claus who ripped off Jesus Christ

Don't matter who's been naughty or who's been nice

Like candy canes and mistletoe

Colors fade, you know the senses slow

May the reason for the season again suffice

 

Well the neighborhood is glowing at night

With a galaxy of colorful lights

The front lawn a holiday train

With aerosol snow on the panes

But despite all the garland and elves

We've unpacked from our attics and shelves

A detail too often ignored

Is the birth of our savior and lord

 

'Twas Santa Claus who ripped off Jesus Christ

Don't matter who's been naughty or who's been nice

Like candy canes and mistletoe

Colors fade, you know the senses slow

May the reason for the season again suffice

 

Seems everybody's out at the mall

Searching for that Cabbage Patch doll

There's a fist fight out in the lot

For that last remaining handicapped spot

We will load all our things in the car

Celebrate with a few at the bar

Stumble back to the sofa well-lubed

For  "A Wonderful Life" on the tube

But if there's one thing we people can do

To make holiday wishes come true

This Christmas as you climb from your bed

Remember what the Nazarene said:

 

'Twas Santa Claus who ripped off Jesus Christ

Don't matter who's been naughty or who's been nice

Like candy canes and mistletoe

Colors fade, you know the senses slow

May the reason for the season again suffice

Your Correspondent Speaks With NOFX - II

I was really floored by "Punk in Drublic". Let's say you put out a perfect album. What next?

You know what? Eighty percent of the people I talk to like "White Trash, Two Heebs and a Bean" better. And when that album came out, everyone liked "Ribbed" better. I think "Ribbed" is people's favorite album still.

Uh-huh. Anyway, back to "Punk in Drublic". Just who is this "Happy Guy" you sing about?

I knew this lady in the pharmacy behind my house. She was like, she always used to give me shit about how I dressed and stuff when I was a kid, tell me I was listening to the devil's music, shit like that.

She was pretty screwed up, but the thing is, she was always happy, you know? If she found happiness in the way that she was brainwashed or whatever, who cares? If she's happy, that's what everyone's looking for. And if you can find that, you're set. It doesn't matter. There's no rules.

Wow. Agreed.

I went to college, you know? Got a BA. And every one of my friends - I have probably 20 to 30 friends that have gotten degrees from college - none of them have a job that's worth mentioning. Retail. Retail clothes. Used to be, you could get ahead. And you can't anymore. You need more than just an education. But you know, I don't think people realize that you shouldn't have to work very often. That's what I'm shooting for.

Your Correspondent Speaks With NOFX - III

You know, I was listening to your song "Reeko" on the way over...

Yeah. How's it go? "The keg has been sucked dry..."?

The only guy who isn't drunk is the bastard counting the money.

We used to do all those things. With the Ex-Lax and all that.

But then you break in with the line, "Mr. President, please understand..." It's almost like another song has been grafted to the end.

The other song is about the economy, actually. You know, I've been to England a lot, and I see this country turning into England. You go downtown and all the stores are closed. It's a fish and chips shop, a couple of clothing stores and everything else is closed and everyone's out of work.

People have to... This is going too far. It's just all consumerism, you know? People ought to just stop wanting things. If you don't want anything, then you don't have to work so fucking hard.

Well, that puts you in an interesting position then, doesn't it?

Entertainment is different. Entertainment is something that... it's not a hundred dollar shirt, you know? Even though a CD's overpriced...

Look, I actually was going to try to set up Fat Wreck Chords, my label, in a lot of libraries, you know, across the country. You know, you could get so much music in a library. A library's like what America is based on. It's almost like the most communist thing there is, you know? There's no profit in it.

And like, you know, everything you see on TV is a gadget. You get it and you don't want it, you know? Everyone who's making these things is pissed off, 'cause they're sitting in some factory making some weird device and the one who has to sell it on the fucking phone is pissed off too. No one is enjoying this at all, so why not get rid of every part of it? And then you have people who aren't so fucked up.

Let's Go See Woody

Let's go see Woody

We'll hang around his shop

Far from the market square

Far from the traffic cop

He'll share Budweiser

And Riders in the Sky

And then he'll stumble home

Like you and I

 

When I was twenty-two

I wed his little girl

She was his favorite thing

In this whole wide world

He didn't like me much

I thought I might get shot

Before our common love of beer and pot

 

Let's go see Woody

We'll hang around his shop

Far from the market square

Far from the traffic cop

He'll share Budweiser

And Riders in the Sky

And then he'll stumble home

Like you and I

 

Won't have to work a lot

We'll mostly hang around

We'll watch him strip a stool

And stain it brown

He'll even cane the seat

Before the job's complete

And then he'll feed us all on smokey meat

 

Let's go see Woody

We'll hang around his shop

Far from the market square

Far from the traffic cop

He'll share Budweiser

And Riders in the Sky

And then he'll stumble home

Like you and I

Philosophical Finish

Newell S. Tobey remains quietly determined to continue the one-man business he's managed to maintain since 1933 in the shop behind his home, upholstering items of found furniture for friends, neighbors and Northern visitors.

At 91, Tobey takes shelter from the afternoon heat in the shade of a large oak, speaking in slow and deliberate terms as he attempts to explain the secret of his venture's longevity.

Prior to moving to Zephyrhills in 1958, the Massachusetts native spent his early years in a number of occupations before deciding to try his hand at upholstering.

"I bounced around quite a bit, trying to find myself. I went to Chicago to work for a few years around 1918 and stayed out there until the crash [of the stock market in 1929.  I started building models for Sears Roebuck for their advertising. There were eight or 10 house models that they sold and you'd buy the whole thing in pieces. I built the models and they had them on display in the main store down there."

Upon visiting his father's home in Vermont, Tobey happened upon an upholstery business almost by accident.

"I rigged up a bench, a few tools in a barn and just taught myself how to do it. There's nothing to it, you just have to use a little common sense, and a little artistic sense, too, you know."
After successfully pursuing his new-found calling in New England for some 20 years, it was while visiting Florida that Tobey would occasionally help with set construction. It was not long before he, his wife and workbench were on their way to permanent residence.

"I loaded my tools in the car and just set up shop. It wasn't a week before I had a piece of work."
A widower for 10 years, Tobey is content to spend his time between the company of a few good friends and his favorite pastime, and sees little chance of his business continuing if he ever sees fit to give it up.

"I always enjoyed it, and I still do," Tobey says. "I had thoughts that I might get my grandson to get into it, but it never developed. There's really nothing to pass on, I guess."

Mother Me

I've known some virgins,

I've known some whores.

 

Hey little sister won't you mother me?

 

I like both kinds when they're on all fours.

 

Hey little sister won't you mother me?

 

I don't care if you're black or white

Hey little sister won't you spend the night?

I'll talk real sweet and I'll treat you right.

 

Hey little sister won't you mother me?