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xmag.com : November 2002: Rod Comstock


I've 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.

That is, with the exception of one man. A profoundly annoying, very seriously 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: Rod Comstock.

My 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.

I 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.

Rod 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.

Shuffling 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' YAMS.

His 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 underneath.

In summary, Mr. Comstock is awful. And he's going to be famous.

That's 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 not.

The Rod Comstock PR Machine fired its engines about two years ago
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

han 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:

A) con more of the poor and unaware into letting him MC a show, and

B) start an e-mail newsletter

concerning 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:



I'm 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



in 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.,


#2 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,


#3 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.


#4 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...


#5 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.


well 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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