Audio By Carbonatix
Two guys are sitting in a pub knocking back shots. First guy turns to the second and says, “You see this bar? I built this bar with my own two hands, but do they call me Jimmy the Bar-Maker? No. And you know what else? That motel next door? I built that hotel from the ground up by myself, but do they call me Jimmy the Motel-Builder? No. But you fuck one sheep . . .”
“Oh yeah?” the second guy says. “Well, stop your grumblin’. I’m a singer in a metal band, and we’ve sold millions of records, but do they call me David the Platinum-Record-Seller? No. We just put out our fourth album a few months ago that debuted at number one, but do they call me David the Chart-Topper? No. We’re out on the road all the time, like with this Jägermeister Tour we’re doing right now, but do they call me David the Road Warrior? No. I come up with powerful songs about my pain and the state of the world today, but do they call me David the Intense-Lyric-Writer? No. But you start off one song, five freakin’ years ago, with Ahhhh wah ah-ah-ah‘ . . .”
“Holy crap!” says the first guy. “You’re David the Angry Rabid Monkey-Man? From Disturbed?!? Man, I feel so much better now!”
“Goddamnit . . .”
Will you step up to support New Times this year?
At New Times, we’re small and scrappy — and we make the most of every dollar from our supporters. Right now, we’re $17,250 away from reaching our December 31 goal of $30,000. If you’ve ever learned something new, stayed informed, or felt more connected because of New Times, now’s the time to give back.
