What it does is it gives you a pool of names and cell phones that were at least within 12 yards of the building. Once you’ve weeded out the names of those who belong there, you have a reasonably comprehensive list of people who were there that weren’t supposed to be there. Armed with that info, you can cross reference…

In the words of the great Ivan Drago, “If he dies, he dies.”

Probably tired, with about three different areas of unexplained joint pain and strong opinions on the cost of things now vs. thirty years ago. 

I’m not going to get on any kind of soap box to stick up for Joel, but Elton John’s best friend, the Princess of god dang England, tragically dies and instead of writing her an original song, he just changes the lyrics to a song he had written earlier for Marilyn Monroe. I’m just some dumb shit on the internet with a…

Alice Cooper should be top ten and I’m available to fight and die on the hill over this.

By being terrible.  When you can write a song about Cocaine and make it slow and boring, you’re just terrible. 

Foreigner and Journey are great, but the true kings of late-70s, early-80s kind-of-hard rock is Loverboy. 

While 100 percent true, I also couldn’t name a single Tom Petty tune that was particularly remarkable.  You sing along, maybe with a bit of a smile and when it’s over, you’ve already forgotten about it. 

In the immortal words of Johnny Rotten’s T-shirt:  I hate Pink Floyd.  They are the worst band of any genre that has the word “rock” attached to it.  They are the musical equivalent of watching ice cold molasses pour out of a jar and the antithesis to the definition of rock and roll. 

I can sing along to Bowie pretty well, so he/she might have a point.

Good lord, man.  Show some kindness.  That was an uncalled for gut punch. I remember getting into the Sex Pistols in the mid-80s and feeling like I was really digging into the past.

I’m coming out and saying it right now. I like overproduced, glossy, MTV-friendly, 80s Heart better than early Heart.

That’s goddamn right Pat Fucking Benetar.

I think of all three of those bands as New Wave bands which, at the time they were popular, fans of the other classic rock bands would have detested. 

I think classic rock has started to encompass anything even peripherally related to rock that someone with gray hair would listen to that doesn’t fall solidly under “punk”, though I have even heard the Sex Pistols a couple times on our local classic rock station.

Between him and Elton John, he’s the far better of the two piano playing guys. 

Dead on about Bruce Springsteen. His hits are okay, but there isn’t one single song that you are supposed to “take seriously”, you know, the deep cuts that only his fans give a shit about, that isn’t complete dog shit.  Okay, I like the song about Youngstown for no good reason. 

It’s okay if you can see your breath in your house. The furnace should click on somewhere around the danger of frostbite.  300-500 dollars is a car payment. New car > warmth.

Summer can eat a dick and now, thanks to dickheads burying their heads in the sand for no other reason than to own the libtards, global warming means summer in the Midwest lasts from April through October.  

Yeah, did they really just say that it was made of freaking wood?  If I was Mexico, I’d constantly be hurling Molotov cocktails at it.