Billy Joe, Tre Cool, and some guy that looks like your molester uncle Carl. They were a three piece punk act that brought you catchy tunes about jacking off in a pseudo-british accent when you were young, or a lot younger than you are now. I got the absolute prostate exam pleasure of catching these dictionary definitions of the word “sell outs” on the season finale of Saturday Night Live. Their first song of the night during the Will Ferrell hosted show, immediately dipped my comedy induced boner into a bath of boiling acid. It was entitled “Know Your Enemy”, hmmm, a song about political shit and rebelling against the system, why does this sound familiar? Oh, now I know, it’s like that Rage Against the Machine song about political crap, with a similar, no, the exact same title.. Nothing like cashing in on the nation’s hard times by switching your M.O. (mode of operation for you geniuses) from songs about jacking your sweaty dick to over throwing the government.
I guess masturbation has finally lost it’s fun. And who better to take advice from than Billy Joe, who now looks like Froto Baggins in heavy eyeliner, dressed to go to a My Chemical Bromance concert in his three inch platform creepers, so he can see above the bar top to order his appletini. Speaking of sweet looks, Tre Cool now looks like one of the characters from a Dr. Seuss book, which one you ask? Well, I wikipediaed that shit and couldn’t find anything in the first thirty seconds and then realized how little I fucking care which one, fuck you for asking. The second phenomenally gay song they played was an acoustic “jam” about Vietnam or Apartheid or the price hike on cherry lipgloss. Like the first song, they were not a three piece again. The first had an extra guitarist which is understandable since Billy Joe has gotten far more faggotty over the years, it stands to reason that his ability to play an instrument would diminish also, science. But this one, since playing an acoustic song with three people is about as possible as Webster beating Michael Phelps in butterfly, had three extra guitarists, a douche on piano and one of these three mystery stringmen was backing up on vocals. So, two bassists, three guys playing guitar, hm, Slipknot has fewer members.
Gee, I can’t wait for Green Day to get the London Philharmonic to play old songs with them for a really special album with hot violins and homo vibes. It would be just like that other band that started out as something somewhat genuine and then morphed into a gang of turd burglaring dicks, Metallica. Maybe Green Day and Metallica can all get together for a wine and cheese party on one of their yachts bought with money dirtier than a prom night cock, and discuss how much they hate torrents and how they can better acclimate themselves to the TRL crowd. Green Day, take your pink ties and hang yourselves. You went from punk to punk-pop to Gap dressing room musak to a point of selling out that makes truck stop sodomy look wholesome. You’ve been dismissed.