Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Tales From My Inbox

*The names in this story have been changed to prevent publicity.
Everything else in quotation marks is word for word, cut & paste.*

It's amazing to me how stupid some people are.
What's even more amazing is how shifty & 2-faced some folks in this music "business" are, and how quickly a ghetto-hard thug can be reduced to a childish bitch.
Case in point...
A few days ago I received a message from some kid from Michigan named Cornell, who was obviously going around, messaging every musician he could find to try to weasel his way into a mailed-in bullshit collaboration with them & capitalize on other peoples' hard work & ready-made fanbases, not that I have a fanbase, or anything...

Anyhoo, the subject line read "Wusup bro i got a proposition 4 ya".

The message itself read:

"My music is on the *ButtFuck Jerkoff* and *Dingleberry Cocksucker* myspace pages check em out show ur connects and let me kno wat u think and if we could do biz peace"

To me, this message comes across more as an advertisement than a proposition, so I told him so-

"That's not a proposition, it's an advertisement".

To which he replied:

"my bad dude I wasnt try to advertise im tryin 2 get soljas 2 collab wit i seen ur myspace page and we share the same veiwz"

So I say:

"That's funny, because if you read my page you would have seen a blurb that says I don't collaborate with random jerks.
What shared views might those be?"

His reply:

"my bad again thats right besides i said collab wit soljas not hataz or bitches and u fall under both fag"

At this point, I almost hyperventilated from laughing so much... I've successfully alienated this kid in only 3 sentences, possibly a new record for me...
Once I regained my composure, I type back:

"Haha. Arguably.
An hour ago you were riding my nuts, and as soon as I call you on your bullshit, I'm a "fag". Who's the real bitch here?
I can't imagine even wanting to listen to a song written by someone with such poor language skills as yourself, let alone appearing on one.
Now fuck off, learn to spell, & go wallow in your obscurity.

Your pal,

It was at this point that he must have called up his homeboy Polly to bitch about what a fag I am, because next thing I know, I get a message from Polly which states:

"u know talkin shit to my homeboy on the internet is bad for your health dontcha"

My reply:

"Why dont you go read the conversation I had with him & tell me if you stand behind that threat. Personally I think your boy is a dumbass, and it's none of your concern."

A few minutes later, Polly writes back:

"personally i think you suck dick and your music sucks, so get a life fag and meet him 1 on 1 if u so tuff i guarantee he will fuck your fagat ass up"

I just want to point out, these kids are from Michigan, & I'm from New York, so it's not like I'm gonna walk down the street & put these kids on the ground, so I MUST be the bitch in this situation.

My reply:

"All this hostility is unnecessary man. All I did was call him on some bullshit, and now he's got kids throwing threats at me? Because I won't make music with him? Fuck all that. And fuck all you. I'm done with this petty shit."

Polly never replied to that one, and it broke my heart. But it's ok, because Cornell got back on his grind, and sent me this last message:

"Alright u win Ur pathetic i feel sorry 4 ur intellectualy challenged less then moderate brain capacity being 1 step above mental retardation must suck i feel 4 u pal alwayz in my heart p.c. I love you"

My reply:

"Whatever you want to think, you bitter fuck."

That was the last I heard from either Cornell OR Polly, but, you know, keep your ears open, because they're doing big things with *The Turd Burglars*, or whatever their shitty band is called.
Thus ends the first installment of "Tales From My Inbox".

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The Story Behind The Song: "Gettin' Juiced"

"Gettin' Juiced"

I have a love/hate relationship with this song... on the one hand, the lyrics are pretty nonsensical & bragadocious, and the song has no cohesive concept.
But on the other hand, the beat is ridiculously intricate & catchy, and there's a Ric Flair impersonation slipped into the 2nd verse.
And on the first hand again, I feel like a dick on the rare occasion when I perform it live, because I don't really stand behind most of the lyrics.
But back on the other hand, there are a lot of sections where I don't have to conform to a song structure, and I'm free to just shit-talk with whoever stuck around the club to watch the set, and Afterbirth LOVES to do this song because he can run around like an asshole and scream "Woo!" like the Nature Boy...

This is one of the first solo tracks I recorded for my "Pleased To Meat You" LP, after my old band, SCK, dissolved. At this point, I have no beef, and as far as I know, neither do they, but regardless of that, we don't really know each other anymore.

The song begins with samples of my own voice hijacked from an SCK track called "Shanked". The lyrics are about stabbing a girl with my penis until she bleeds.
I'm a classy motherfucker.

There are a few thinly veiled "fuck you's" to the guys from the old group in the first verse...

The hook in this song is a heavily processed lament about a lack of my music on fM airwaves, followed by illegal samples from an old computer game whose name escapes me.

The second verse is interesting in that it's very boastful, in a severe "i'm the shit" type of way, which a severe departure from the self loathing & depressing melodrama you've all become accustomed to.

The second "hook" consists of more samples of my own voice from an unreleased SCK track called "I'm The", which was a misguided attempt at some art-fag metaphorical shit.

The 3rd verse was originally supposed to be included on an SCK track called "Payback". I don't remember if it was ever recorded or not, but if it was, I've never heard it, and it was never released. Anyway, I had the verse laying around, and it seemed appropriate given the circumstances at the time.

After the 3rd verse, there's a little interlude where I talk about a chick's butthole. That's in there strictly to fill time... I don't like to leave empty gaps in my songs, I didn't write enough lyrics to fill the verse, and I was too lazy to write something... so I just hit record & talked about buttholes for like 2 bars.

The outro on this track is pretty much the same as the intro. Stabbing girls with my penis. Of course.

The video that appears below is some random footage from some old shows that Afterbirth synced up to the Squeaky Clean Radio Edit of the song, as if it ever got radio play.
I believe I recognize some of the footage as being recorded in The ABC Lounge in Manhattan, and some of it from Molly Blooms in Long Island, if anyone gives a shit about that.
If you look closely, you'll see guest appearances by The One & Only Joe Brown, PissFace, Toe-Dizzle & Ms. PinkCookie.

First post here... Testing the waters...

Welcome to!
This is fOREVERMAN typing at you.
If you just randomly stumbled on to this blog, and don't already know me, visit and find out what I'm all about.
If you don't have the new flash player, you can listen at
If you're on an iPhone, you're assed out on the streaming music, but you can watch many YouTube videos by searching "thatmffm".

I set up this blog, but I'm not really sure what I'm going to do with it.
I thought it would be cool to use this page to post stories & ponderances that are too long for Twitter, and not fleeting enough for a myspace bulletin, but it's probably going to wind up degenerating into just another avenue to shamelessly promote my new projects and upcoming performances.
Anyway, if you want to keep up with what's going on on my end, add this page to your RSS feeds, or bookmark it, or web-app it... Whatever it is that you do in that situation, do it.
And feel free to leave comments. I'm all about comments, especially if you're well-spoken and disagreeable.

For now, I'm out, but I'll pop in when I have something to say.