Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Listen to phicklephilly LIVE on Spotify!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Listen to phicklephilly LIVE on Spotify!
“Look onto your own bloody lives.” – John Lennon
Hello all. First of all I’d like to thank everyone of my followers and everybody who reads and enjoys my blog. I really appreciate the loyalty and enthusiasm of my audience. You’re the best group of creative, intelligent, lovely people I’ve ever encountered in the writing community.
So, Thank you all. I appreciate your words and your thoughts.
The reason for this blog’s success is all of you over the last 3 years. I’ve posted thousands of pieces and have had over 40,000 visitors and over 80,000 page views. I hope maybe I’ve helped a few folks out there with my dating and relationship advice and also I hope they enjoy all of my heartfelt stories and crazy dating experiences.
I’m proud and humbled by all of the attention for my little blog here in Philly.
Anyway, I wrote a piece back in 2017, (nearly 3 years ago!) and forgot about it. It was a goofy post about somebody I met on Bumble but never went out on a date with because they seemed a bit crazy.
Again, it was so long ago and I’ve written so much over the last few years I simply forgot about it.
Two days ago, I noticed a spike in my viewer stats. Frankly I was amazed. (5 times my usual daily views!) Initially I was astounded at all of the attention. I thought that maybe my blog had finally taken off as a literary force!
But when I looked closer I realized that someone, or a group of someones had found this old blog piece and attacked me.
This mad group of trolls crawled out of their caves, or out from under their rocks, or from under their bridges where they live to scare the Billy Goat’s Gruff! (hopefully some of you get the reference!)
They called me all sorts of names and were really mean.
There are thousands of these pigs out there and they love to attach themselves to successful people like blood sucking sea lampreys.
This is my blog, my words and my truth. I control every aspect of it and enjoy that part of it. I happily have to approve every comment that appears on this blog. (I have to because I get at least 50 spam posts a week and it’s all a bunch of nonsense that could hurt the integrity of the site’s function as well as WordPress.)
Someone once asked me how to deal with negative feedback. I told them this: “Positive feedback usually makes you feel good. (The warm fuzzy’s we all like from friends, loved one’s and coworkers) and Negative feedback. Negative feedback, when done respectfully and properly, improves your performance.
But what if the negative feedback is mean and unwarranted?
Sadly, every moron now has a voice. The internet. For hundreds of years the only voices you heard were in newspapers, radio, and TV. But since the invention of social media every idiot that wants to anonymously make a comment or attack a person to hurt them can now do it.
We’ve all read about these cowards. These internet bullies who have even hurt children and caused some poor troubled souls to even take their own precious lives.
They’re all despicable cowards that I have no time for. I’ve had my share in the last 3 years. There’s always someone out there who won’t agree with something you did to express yourself and write and create. Most of these morons that attack those of us brave enough to bare our souls through our literature and tell the truth about our live and experiences can barely put together a paragraph of any kind of rational thought.
If it happens to you, please take my simple advice:
It comes down to simple science. As a musician and a man of science, let me share this with you all.
In order for a sound to be made, you need two things. A Transmitter and a Receiver. The transmitter emits a sound, or a comment or anything. It needs a receiver to make a SOUND. With no receiver, there is NO SOUND. You need both to make a SOUND. So if some troll makes a negative comment about your art, simply don’t respond.
The negative comment never sees the light of day on your blog and it silences these fools and cowards who hide behind their computers. Because their lives are so empty, and vacuous they want to hurt those who are strong and have a real voice with their art.
Anyone who holds them out in the public eye with creative ideas will always be met with some adversity from morons who don’t have anything good going on in their lives and have nothing better to do than to attack people with real talent like all of you out there who are writers and artists yourselves.
So these broken transmitters bark their nonsense on your blog and make their snide comments and all you have to do is not approve their comments.
It’s that simple.
Laugh at what they wrote and toss it in your spam file. It’s nothing but trash and don’t let these morons have a voice.
No voice, equals no sound.
Scrape them from the sole of your shoe like you would any other bit of excrement.
Or, look at this way. I once wrote a manuscript for a book 20 years ago. It wasn’t very good and I sent it out to several publishers. I got tons of the usual rejection letters, but there was this one that struck me. She said I was a good writer but didn’t like all of the sex and violence in my work. I took it as an insult. I spoke with an artist friend of mine and he said, “No man, don’t you get it? She rejected your work, but she cared enough to tell you that your work disturbed her. It moved her to have a feeling. Whether it’s joy or revulsion, that’s what art does. It makes you feel something. You made her feel something. That’s a good thing!”
So sadly, in this day and age, haters are going to hate. They’re all a bunch of losers so don’t worry about them and don’t give them a voice.
I’ve decided to cut and paste their words here in this blog piece that I control. I will hold these ugly trolls out to all of you, and I will show you what they are… but on my terms.
Here’s what these cowards said about me.
What a collection of failures. All the poor grammar and bad spelling!
Can you imagine taking the time out of your day to write the above nonsense and actually think that your little pathetic voice is heard by anyone who gives a damn about anything you have to say?
I thought I’d share what these morons said so you can all have a good laugh along with me as I continue to bring you quality content everyday…
Twice a day!
Oh… Here’s the best part. All of this nonsense, rage and curiosity caused an incredible spike in my traffic. Thank you trolls and haters.
(Insert hysterical laughter here)
My father once said to me the following words, and it was one of the best pieces of advice he ever gave me.
“Son, the emptiest barrels make the most noise. Ignore them.”
Thank you one and all for your continued love and support! I’d love to hear your experiences with this sort of nonsense!
Jethro Tull leader Ian Anderson recalled how he met future Led Zeppelin singer Robert Plant – and how Anderson’s band “got out pretty quickly” after Plant took a guest turn onstage.
The incident took place sometime in the mid ‘60s in London, before either artist had reached the pinnacle of success. “I’ve never been a strong singer,” said Anderson, who was complimented for retaining the vocal abilities of “a man decades younger” during a recent interview with Prog magazine. “Comparing me to, say, Robert Plant is absurd – he has a God-given talent, which I recognized, fearfully, the first time I ever met him, when [British blues icon] Alexis Korner brought him into a club we were in.”
Anderson said they were playing in a “dreary, shitty club in town and it was awful” when Korner “came in with this lean youth and said, ‘All right if my boy stands in and does a number? He sings and plays harmonica.’ And I was like, ‘Well, that’s what I do, but sure, I’ll just sit this one out and he can have a go.’”
Anderson recalled that his reaction was immediate. “You knew instantly that he had something special about him,” he said of Plant. “And he was a good harmonica player too. I sat there feeling this growing dread. … We got out of there pretty quickly, as I recall. Not too much looking back that night.”
Jethro Tull are marking their 50th anniversary with a tour that launches in the U.K. on Apr. 3 before reaching the U.S. on May 30. Anderson started work on a new album last year, although he remains unsure whether it will be released under his name or the band moniker. Plant recently said that Led Zeppelin were planning to discuss ways of celebrating their own 50th anniversary this year.
If the legends are to be believed, a rock star’s day is two hours of playing music and 22 hours of sex, drugs and worshipping Satan. Are the legends true, though? We assembled the most unsettling myths and, wearing elbow-length rubber gloves, took a closer look.
Stevie Nicks Rides the White Horse
The legend: Stevie Nicks, easily the most bangable member of Fleetwood Mac, was at one time so tolerant to the effects of cocaine use that in order to achieve a healthy, atomic-grade high she had to have it blown up her rectum.
Why it grosses us out: Because people who snort cocaine nasally spend approximately 90 percent of their time wiping their constantly running noses. If the legend is true, things don’t look good for that awesome dragon chair she’ sitting on.
Why we still hope it’s true: Aside from giving us reason to discuss Stevie Nicks’ ass in social situations, it would be the most hardcore thing anyone’s done with their body since that dude at Lollapalooza hung a bowling ball off his dong.
Shoving cocaine up your ass is extra-strength crazy, unless of course it’s your source of livelihood (apologies to any drug mules who may have been offended). As an added bonus, it could be considered an anthropological throwback to the Mayans, who used to imbibe alcohol through their rectal lining via beer douches. Tastes great and less filling! Not that you’ll notice.
Yeah, but is it: Nicks most certainly blew the blow, and it is biologically feasible that one could get high by reverse-farting cocaine, but we still find the claim pretty dubious. She has publicly denied it, which could be taken as proof either way. If someone at work started spreading a rumor that at last year’ Christmas party, you snorted cocaine through your sphincter, would you dignify it with an on-the-record denial?
As far as the official record is concerned, the field remains wide open for a phicklephilly reader brave enough to claim the title “first person to take cocaine anally.” Get to it!
KISS’ Comic Book Petri Dish
The legend: KISS, in one of the more ridiculous marketing gimmicks of the last 50 years, mixed vials of their own blood into the red ink used to color the blood for the first issue of Marvel’s KISS comic series.
Why it grosses us out: KISS isn’t exactly the model of sexual restraint. Their blood would probably be more valuable at a clinic documenting the evolution of various strands of STDs since the ’70s, and less valuable staining our finger tips. We’ll stick with our Whitesnake coloring book, thank you very much.
Why we still hope it’s true: No one does zany, goofy, ultimately innocuous horror like KISS, and what better manifestation of that than mixing their blood with comic book ink? Yes, they’re bleeding, but at some point that blood is going to be mixed with the palm-sweat of a thousand chubby sixteen-year-olds as they read about Ace and Gene battling space-pirates with their righteous riffs.
Really, the only way this can be considered hardcore is if you assume-as we do-that the blood was not extracted by a needle, but rather sopped up from the floor after the guys rolled in bacon fat and waded through a trough of alligators.
Yeah, but is it: Absolutely. KISS flew to Marvel’s inking facility in between tour stops and dumped vials of blood into the red-ink vat. Not only is there a picture of it happening, but it was witnessed by a notary public and subject to a signed contract. Comic fans are apparently very particular about the validity of their blood-infused inks. You can now rest assured that if you see someone licking a KISS comic, they are either a vampire or a huge freak.
Mick Jagger’s Goes to Mars
The legend: Mick “the rooster” Jagger was caught during a drug bust eating a Mars Bar from between the legs of Marianne Faithfull, as well as nude in bed with effeminate rocker David Bowie. And, he was caught by Bowie’s wife, no less.
Why it grosses us out:
Now picture that, but without any clothes on. Yeah. That’ why.
Why we still hope it’s true: We like our rockers like we like our parents: androgynous and sex-crazed. Jagger eating a candy bar out of someone’s cooch is alright, but ultimately just another entry in the pantheon of “rockers have so much sex they get bored with it and do crazy shit” stories. Add in some Bowie-humping, though, and you’ve got rock-legend magic.
The only thing that could make it better would be if Prince had filmed the whole thing and the tape leaked to the Internet, revealing Bowie in full makeup and demanding to be called “Major Tom.” We can dream, can’t we?
Yeah, but is it: In a happy twist of fate for lovers of bizarre celebrity behavior, the Mars Bar bit is a definite no, but the Bowie-banging may actually have some truth to it. Police did bust in on Jagger and Faithfull looking for drugs, but reported no sexual activity other than the fact that Faithfull was naked except for a large blanket. By rock standards, she might as well have been in a burka.
As for the latter incident, Bowie’s wife detailed it on an episode of Joan Rivers’ radio show, but later claimed that the men weren’t having sex, just nude in bed, which, you know, is totally normal.
Frank Zappa Eats Poo
The legend: Misanthropic hermit and erstwhile experimental rocker/composer Frank Zappa got in an onstage gross-out contest with friend Captain Beefheart, in which Beefheart took a dump onstage. Zappa then promptly won the contest–and put Ozzy Osborne’ bat stunt to shame– by scooping up a handful of poop and popping it in his mouth.
Why it grosses us out: Because it’ the most disgusting thing you could possibly do, other than eating two pieces of shit.
Why we still hope it’s true: OK, we kind of don’t, since we like Frank Zappa and it would force us to lose a healthy amount of respect for the guy. But, his notoriously bizarre musical style, and the fact that he named his kids Moon Unit, Dweezil, Ahmet Emuukha Rodan and Diva Thin Muffin Pigeen, doesn’t help his case much.
Put that guy in front of a crowd, goaded on by a competition and under pressure to perform, and who knows what he’s capable of? As anyone who’s watched Fear Factor knows, people will eat a lot of crazy shit for very little compensation. Of course, this would be the first time the phrase “eating crazy shit” was used so literally.
Yeah, but is it: Despite strident and persistent claims from fans who “totally saw it happen,” it almost certainly didn’t. Zappa was actually boringly conservative for a rambling guitar rocker and was one of the most vocal anti-drug performers of his time. When asked directly about the incident, Zappa said, “I never took a shit on stage, and the closest I ever came to eating shit anywhere was at a Holiday Inn buffet in Fayetteville, N.C.”
Marilyn Manson Gets Flexible
The legend: Marilyn Manson, who decided getting breast implants and being an ordained priest in the Church of Satan didn’t make him creepy enough, had his lowest set of ribs removed so he could perform autofellatio (That’ where you blow yourself. Read a book, dammit.).
Why it grosses us out: There’ basically nothing Marilyn Manson can do that wouldn’t make us uncomfortable. Also, this myth requires that you acknowledge the existence of Marilyn Manson’ penis, which we’re assuming bares its fangs and writhes around like a snake when exposed to daylight.
Why we still hope it’ true: We, uh … have this friend that’ worried he’ going to break his neck, and we think it would just make things easier on “ÃÂ¦ our friend if this “ÃÂ¦ Oh hell, it does not make you gay if you try it to yourself. Ok?
Yeah, but is it: A thorough investigation into the matter, conducted only for the purposes of this article, proved that there is no evidence of a successful rib-removal surgery in all of the Western world. Of course, that doesn’t take into account the Eastern world, as well as any surgery attempts that aren’t on record. Also, medical research conducted for this article, and only for this article, reveal that it would actually be more helpful to remove a vertebrate.
Rod Stewart Gets Pumped
The legend: Rod Stewart passed out at an after party and had to get his stomach pumped after ingesting a gallon of semen.
Why it grosses us out: A gallon of semen? We can’t even get through a gallon of milk without throwing up.
Why we still hope it’ true: The Rod Stewart-semen-stomach-pump story blazed a path for the same rumor to be applied to countless modern pop stars. There was Jon Bon Jovi, various members of New Kids on the Block and, more recently, Justin Timberlake.
So, either blowing thousands of dudes is a proud tradition passed down from one pop star generation to the next, or there is an intergenerational tendency among American men to imagine popular male musicians with dicks in their mouths. We’ll take the option where Jon Bon Jovi’ the creep and we’re just doing our jobs reporting the gruesome facts.
Yeah, but is it: It’ almost definitely false, though Rod isn’t helping his case with his denials. In a Rolling Stone interview Stewart commented, “It was so laughable, it never really hurt me. What could it have been? A fleet of fucking sailors? Or, footballers?” They cut the quote off there, but we’re assuming Stewart continued naming the professions of all of the different people he didn’t blow to get that much semen in his stomach.
Led Zeppelin’s Mud Shark
The legend: While staying at the Edgewater Hotel in 1969-a hotel that allows guests to fish from their room balconies-Led Zeppelin caught a mud shark and then proceeded to use it sexually on a bound groupie. Exactly how is a matter for grim speculation only.
Why it grosses us out: Because it sounds like an even more disturbing version of the most disturbing scene in A Clockwork Orange. It also, for whatever reason, makes us acknowledge the existence of Marilyn Manson’ dick again.
Why we still hope it’ true: The way we heard it, the chick was totally into it, which helps undercut the “Oh, my God, that’s horrific” factor. Still, a shark? And, you thought that little pussy-riding prop you brought home to spice things up was “edgy.” Try introducing Jaws to your significant other’s privates and see if one or both of you doesn’t end up taking a trip to the emergency room.
This legend is also appealing because it takes some of the sting out of realizing your favorite rock band is singing primarily about Lord of the Rings characters. Zep aren’t nerds, man! Zep boned a chick with a fucking shark!
Yeah, but is it: Sort of, but in a stripped-down, pathetic kind of way. The widely accepted “true version” of the legend is that the band’s road manager Richard Cole caught a red snapper, and, as the groupie in question was a natural red-head, made the inevitable lame joke and applied the fish to her crimson honeypot. Legend also has it that John Bonham was present, but otherwise engaged in a rousing game of Dungeons and Dragons.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
I was over at Vicki Yamamato’s parents’ house on my 21st birthday in her room watching TV and she says to me “Babe you wanna play truth or dare?” I said: “What are you 14?” She replied “No! I think you’re just chicken.” Now I couldn’t just let her win so I said: “Sure, come on let’s play.”
It started off with just a few simple questions because we both did truths like do you love me and little things like that. I started getting bored with it and said dare. I should have never said it. She sat and thought about it and with an evil little grin she said: “okay my parents are not home so I got a great dare for you.”
So my mind went straight to the gutter, I mean what guys mind wouldn’t right? I said: “What’s this big bad dare you got in your pretty little mind?” She looked me dead in my eye and said: “You gotta run around the entire house naked!”
I thought okay that’s easy, I mean her parents had a huge house, but it wouldn’t take long to run around inside. And the worst that could happen is that her parents show up and then I gotta explain we were just playing truth or dare.
So I said: “Alright the basement too?” She smiled again and said: “no.” Then she laughed and I asked what was funny? She said: “The entire outside of the house!” I told myself don’t be a sissy just do it. So I said: “Okay I’ll do it.”
I got naked went outside and darted around the entire house as quick as I could, but as I opened the front door to get in there stood half of Vicki’s family standing in the living room. I ran upstairs and got dressed as quick as I could. She had really got me, when I came down she was holding a cake smiling and the cake read “Happy 21st, DON’T END UP IN YOUR B-DAY SUIT”
I had never been that embarrassed or pranked that bad in my whole life.
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Some musicians just have a freakish amount of talent. Most of us learn at a young age that we are not those people. The realization probably came as soon as you were old enough to read social cues and you tried showing off your amazing talents to anyone except your pet. (Daisy is a very good dog, but maybe not a very good judge of musical ability.) Those who do have that freakish amount of talent are the singer-songwriters, the people who can play any instrument they pick up, the ones who get lost in the music of their own making whether they’re in the studio or on stage. There’s something almost magical about listening to a true musical genius, and they’ve definitely earned our respect. But it’s easy to forget that behind all that music is a very ordinary person, and sometimes, that ordinary person is a terrible human being.
There’s a lot of dark stuff in Johnny Cash’s life, but let’s talk about just how horrible he was to women. Vivian Cash’s book I Walked the Line: My Life with Johnny was a heartbreaking tell-all detailing how she continued loving her husband even through the drugs and the affair with his more famous second partner, June Carter Cash. It was Vivian who gave him four daughters, raised them, and who stuck with him through the worst of the arrests and the accidental forest fires (via USA Today), but Johnny gave all the credit to June.
Behind closed doors, June Carter didn’t actually have it any easier, in spite of the storybook romance performed in the public eye. Biographer Robert Hilburn (via Esquire) says he was stunned when he found out Cash had cheated on her when she was pregnant with son John Carter. There were more than a few women, but the one that had to hurt the most was June’s own sister, Anita. John Carter has also gone on record talking about his parents’ less-than-perfect marriage, and has said (via Reuters) his mother’s drug addictions and descent into paranoia came from a near-constant fear he was cheating yet again. That fear spread to their son, who grew up well aware that his family could fall apart at any time because his father couldn’t stay faithful.
Chuck Berry was a legend who helped shape rock and roll, and when he died in 2017, The New Yorker described him as “a proud and difficult man” who “was also a genius.” He also once punched Keith Richards in the mouth for touching his guitar while they were getting together to organize Berry’s 60th birthday party. That’s the attitude that got him into all kinds of trouble, and Berry even had a name for those incidents: his “naughties.”
It started when, as a teenager, he did three years in a reform school for stealing cars and a bit of armed robbery. Fast-forward to 1962, when Berry was 36 years old. He was tossed in the clink for violating the Mann Act, a law that prohibits taking a woman across state lines with “immoral” intentions. Oh, and the girl was 14. He served 20 months of the three years he was originally sentenced to (via NPR), getting out because they appealed after the judge made racist comments.
Let’s not forget about the 1989 accusations, either. That’s when law enforcement raided his property and found a few weapons, some pot, and videotapes of women in what they thought was the privacy of bathrooms and changing rooms of his properties. The official suit, says Riverfront Times, accused him of filming women in compromising positions for “entertainment and gratification.” Berry’s camp eventually settled, but that seriously tarnishes any legacy.
Lead Belly died in 1949, and if you don’t remember him, you should at least be glad groups like Creedence Clearwater Revival and artists like Bob Dylan didn’t forget him. Even George Harrison once said, “No Lead Belly, no Beatles.” You know the songs he recorded, too — like “The Midnight Special” and “Goodnight Irene” (via The Telegraph).
Huddie Ledbetter was born in 1888, and he picked up the name Lead Belly in prison. He did several stretches in jail, starting with 30 days on a chain gang in 1915 for getting in a particularly violent fight. Two years later he was arrested again, this time for killing his cousin’s husband and nearly killing another. He was pardoned in 1925 but went back in jail in 1930, this time for stabbing and what Black History Now says was “assault with intent to murder.” It was during this stint he was discovered by a pair of musicologists who were recording songs for the Smithsonian, and Lead Belly recorded hundreds for them. The rest of his life was a combination of performing at venues of all sizes across the country, and more time in jail. There was another stabbing incident in 1939, assault in 1940 … you get the picture. He was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease only months before he died from it, and he left behind an incredible legacy. And some dead people.
It’s impossible to describe the effect Elvis had on music history, so let’s get right to the dirt. He was 21 when he became ridiculously famous with the success of “Heartbreak Hotel,” and after that, all bets were off when it came to how far he was going to go. Along with the fame and fortune came the admiration of countless women, but according to biographer Joel Williamson (via Broadly), there was a particular type of woman Elvis liked: the really, really young ones.
The right age to be an Elvis girl was 14, and when the 22-year-old megastar went on those early tours he took along a little group of 14-year-olds. Williamson says he was a huge fan of tickling and wrestling, along with everything else short of actual intercourse. Future wife Priscilla was 14 when they met (he was 24), and just what went on behind closed doors is debated. What’s not debated is that he lost interest in her after Lisa Marie was born, and went on to court another 14-year-old named Reeca Smith.
There was a bit of violence in Elvis, too. Years later, he was engaged to a 21-year-old who claimed he once pulled out a gun and put a bullet in the headboard of the bed she was sleeping in, saying it was “an attention getter.” The Guardian says in between those major relationships there were a ton of others, many with underage girls who preferably had tiny, tiny feet.
Frank Sinatra was iconic on stage, but there was a lot of shady stuff that happened off-stage. Let’s talk about one part of that: his temper. According to The Telegraph, it was so bad that one of his wives once described him as a sort of Jekyll-and-Hyde character, and there’s a whole list of physical altercations he was involved in. First, the ones where someone got seriously hurt.
He punched a reporter in 1948, eventually settling the assault and battery charges filed against him. He was staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel when he threw a phone at a random businessman who was also there, and cracked the man’s skull. He nearly killed his then-wife Ava Gardner by throwing a champagne bottle at her so hard it cracked the bathroom sink.
Sinatra destroyed an insane amount of stuff, too, usually in fits of rage. He took a knife to a Norman Rockwell painting and shredded it, threw a malfunctioning TV out a window at Sands Hotel in Las Vegas, and smashed a car radio when The Doors’ “Light My Fire” came on. GQ says some of the stuff that met an untimely end under his boot was pretty priceless, too, like the Ming vase he destroyed at a Hong Kong hotel after someone missed a lighting cue. That’s what happens when you get too used to having things your way.
Whatever you think of Slash — the guitarist / aspiring magician of Guns N’ Roses — you probably wouldn’t expect that he’s really, really into dinosaurs. For starters, he has millions of dollars’ worth of dinosaur artwork, which is apparently not only a real genre, but one that you can spend millions of dollars on.
Despite dressing like a Hot Topic brought to life by a careless witch’s curse, Slash knows his stuff. He has several paleontologist buddies, keeps current with the major dinosaur museums, and is able to make intelligent, convincing arguments about niche subjects in the field. We like to imagine some stuffy high-society gathering attended by portly fellows in tweed jackets carrying on at great length, when one of them is gently corrected about the mating habits of the diplodocus, turns to find the source of the interjection, and sees Slash standing there.