"Can we, as a country, all
: November 2002: Rod
earned my increasingly useless dollar a day as a bartender
for the past four years, and in that time I've regrettably
had interaction with a cosmos of low men. I've listened
to no-talents ramble for hours about their shitty alternative-music
endeavors. I've stared deep into the jaundiced and bloodshot
eyes of hard-line alkies. I am in no way a stranger to
the olfactory karate-chop of sour vomit. I've been offered
such in-demand items as half-eaten corn dogs, pornography,
and the promise of arm-wrestling humiliation for drinks.
Some pygmy glam rocker took a shit in his lycra pants
not three feet away from me, then simply shook the offending
turd down his leg. I have been in more fights than you
can imagine, and Jehovah help me, I'm used to it.
is, with the exception of one man. A profoundly annoying,
creepy man. A man whose very existence serves remind me
that all is not right with the world. A low, low, man.
My niggaz in San Jo already know who I'm talking about:
brain cramps into painful synaptic seizure when the name
is said aloud. Rod...oh, the agony...Comstock. I'm not
nearly a descriptive-enough writer to give an impression
of what a horrible, mumbling freak-out this dude is. The
foul aspects of his character are nothing short of panoramic.
scarcely know where to begin my detail of the man. He's
a vociferous, phlegm-hacking tool of the system/part time
haiku poet. A charmless reptile with a social disease/part
time water-quality moderator. Noticeably unclean/part
time Sno-Cone vendor. Slightly Hunchbacked/part time MC.
Rod fucking Comstock. Roderick middle-initial-K-but-doesn't-know-what-it-stands-for
Comstock, 37, hails from a wasteland known as Madera,
California, which could be best described as a gloomier
version of Fresno with LESS TO DO.
hunched as if he's been beaten about the shoulders, Rod
sports a matted combover atop his wobbling biscuit head.
A dirty-blond crustache saves flavor above his wet, slacken
lips. He wears large, brown-tinted glasses, plays with
his ears incessantly, and has the most ungodly, fake-ass
tan you will ever see. A tan like Karen Black under a
McDonald's fry lamp. The man's skin is the color of frickin'
unseemly appearance isn't merely genetic, mind you. Fashionwise,
the decisions at which he's arrived are unbelievable.
The shirt: ruffled. The suit: a faux-denim elastic
monstrosity with brown corduroy lapels, featuring a long
gold zipper in place of buttons. The socks: yellow. The
shoes: gray plastic crocodile-skin loafers. I'll take
the high road and not even speculate as to what he wears
summary, Mr. Comstock is awful. And he's going to be famous.
right, my little marzipan kittens. The defects in looks
and personality are not going to encumber what Rod describes
as his "trail to fame." Despite consistent failure in
ANYTHING he attempts, Rod Comstock has decided that he
WILL be a star, whether you and your momma like it or
Rod Comstock PR Machine fired its engines about two years
when he conned a hapless bar owner into letting him assume
the role of Master of Ceremonies for an evening. Bitching
about the lack of Zima rather
concentrating on the duty at hand, he got every band's
name wrong. It was later discovered that Rod had stolen
mailing lists from said bands, using the
contact info to:
con more of the poor and unaware into letting him MC
a show, and
start an e-mail newsletter
his rocket to superstardom.
These infrequent newsletters are composed entirely of
bizarre, incoherent sloganeering. Every other word is
either mispelllled, CAPITALIZED FOR NO REASON, or awkwardly
nestled between quotation marks that don't "need to
be" there. It was through this communiqué that
I was able to touch base with Mr. Comstock. Rather than
a standard phone interview, I asked Rod to please review
five of his favorite records, so that you might see
his peculiar style for yourself:
asked by the rock magazene Exotic to write my favorite
bands that Ill do, because I introduce alot of them.
I decided Im soppost to focus on the old and new. I
hope that the matter can be a COMSTOCKS CORNER in futer
for the new bands. Getting, started
PABLO CRUISE BAND LIFELINE
this is there second album, the boys really do it right
assnd you can see clearly how they' eve progresed from
before. There are ten tracks and I use TEARIN DOWN MY
MIND when I'm doing the stage at shows as an "intro",
which is approriet because the band useD TO PRACTICE
FOR THEIR GIGS IN SAN JOSE! It was east side. The "town
girls" must have gone crazy for knowing it! I have it
on record but I dont know if theres a CD, which they
should do so you can here it in the car. Moving along.,
BRUCE WILLIS AND THE ACCELARATORS BAND RETURN OF BRUNO
not only can he show you he can do "action" but also
play in a band! Artists who aren't the hot thing have
a difficult time,' Wills says (from a website). Well
you know that hes on "easy street" because he's the
hot thing in two diffrent ways! when it ca,me out RESECT
YOURSELF GOt to the top hits and you should respect
yourself and respect for the man Bruce wllis. Nextly,
MARILIN MANSON BAND MECANICAL ANIMAL Ill "start
off" with a few words about faggets. We should be sensitive
to all faggets and espesally those who become famous
and live it through the music. I bought it because of
this, and you KNOW its got to be the good thing bacause
I listen and Im no fagget.
JIM GOED BAND TRUCK DRIVING PSYCHO I review this
because Jim Goed is the magazine you have. I have to
say it, HE'S NOT JUST FOR WRITING ANYMORE!!! This is
the sort of thing i would buy anyhow! Because the album
is contry western and his is "trucks", and you can beleve
ROD COMSTOCK can relate because (befor it broke at a
"gig") I had a van AT LEAST truck big. This is a CD
which like i said for PABLO CRUISE BAND, you can hear
it in the car or shuld I say truck! (ironical, the record
title) I could go on for ten but the last one is...
EMINEM RAP BAND THE SHOW EVERYBODY plays this "bad
boy" cause he's all street hard but white! I dont usully
listen to rap, but this time to show that I'm modern.
You need to be open to everything even when other records
are better, cause I ain't saying no ones a person. the
best is even if you dont have the "scratch" (mony) to
buy the record you can still here it cause it's all
over the place! Werever you go someone plays the offensive
jams. I tried and they wouldn't let me in, but you know
he was really doing it on the stage.
that's all, but I will say that I dont have Britny Spears
band rtecord, but I sure have seen her! I normally go
fot the "thick girls", but I can asure you I'd go "skinny
minee" for that little larynx. Anyhow like I said this
should be ComSTOCK'S CORNER for every time.
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