You know what, guys? I am fucking BORED.
I hate the Year Zero ARG.
I know there are a lot of totally obsessive NINnies out there who can't eat enough shit with a spoon, and they fucking love it, Mmmmm-mmmm, and sure, there are some nice elements -- the "presence", the political perspective with which I couldn't possibly agree more, the "art is resistence" slogan -- but the whole fucking thing smells a little too much like a dipshitty geekfest master-minded by Rob Sheridan to me. Yeah, I know Trent says he and that idiotic beer-can vagina fucking frat boy thought it all up, but I don't give a shit, and I don't have all fucking day to learn morse code or some shit, after trolling the internet for the latest garbled website chock-loaded with painfully obvious paranoia-for-fun.
You know what else I'm fucking bored with? Gabriel and his fucking stupid minions. Seriously: all the spunk, dog-fucking, I-am-Christ tomfoolery is SO FUCKING BORING. I'm over it. All that ever happens around here is a bunch of total fucktards worshipping at the altar of the biggest bitchboy I have ever known. Jesus, people. GET A LIFE.
One thing that isn't boring, though? I'm seeing Nine Inch Nails tomorrow -- WITHOUT THOSE BITCHES. You know what else?
I swear to God, people, I loaded up the New York Times today and totally had an orgasm.
In my wildest dreams, I never imagined election results this awesome, and the resignation of Rumsfeld? My panties are soaked. Now, if only someone could drive the fucking PADDY WAGON up to the door of the White House and load all those fucking criminal bitches into it and try their lying, wrongful-imprisionment-supporting, murdering, torture-advocating asses for crimes against humanity, my fondest dreams -- yes, even fonder than that one where Trent "Sparklepants" Reznor nuzzles the insides of my thighs with his lovely, lovely beard, and bares his teeth in the very sexiest way -- will have come true.
You guys? Today is officially a good day. I didn't even have to use my A.K.
As if that weren't enough? I'm fully seeing my aforementioned sweet, sweet love in Europe this spring, and not only that, but plans are being laid for a possible FULL WTC STAFF APPEARANCE.
That's right, Trent. All of us. Maybe. IF YOU'RE LUCKY.
[Inside_Dierdre: Orgasmic_Joy, Coupled_With_Deep_Scorn]
Because, as I'm sure you all know by now, HRH Trent Reznor is finally getting his slinky little ass over to my side of the planet, and I am finally going to get to see the show here in the more civilized part of the world known as EUROPE.
Moreover, reports from inside the Empire of Dirt -- in fact, reports from the Big Giant Head himself -- are that a new record should "drop" in April, by which I assume Mr. Cool means "will be released". I can only dream that these developments mean that the tour which commences in the early part of 2007 and includes my adopted city should also include the following scenario: me, Dierdre Keating, reduced to slack-jawed admiration and brought to shattering climax upon hearing Trent sing new songs, alive and in person. In fact, I totally came as I typed that sentence, and when I did, I totally saw fireworks.
You guys know how much I kinda like Trent and his songs, right? So... yeah. That's my reaction.
You know what, though? My expectations for the new Nine Inch Nails record are very specific: basically, I am hoping that Trent will write the songs on it, and that he will sing them. I'm pretty sure that if those two criteria are met, it will totally ROCK my ASS, and some other parts of me besides, including my heart and mind. Yeah, it's cheesey to say that, but FUCK YOU, hater. I can only hope that when he arrives in Europe, Trent will not only be bringing the incredible continuation of his always riveting aesthetic journey, but that he will also be prepared to sonically make sweet, but nasty and sometimes violent love to all of us, because I adore it when he does that.
Not everyone, however, is inclined to BE FUCKING GRATEFUL FOR WHAT THE GOOD LORD HAS GIVEN, and by that, I mean what the good lord has given to Trent in terms of his volcanic artistic virility, some of which he will soon distribute to us via whatever channels he sees fit in the new year. Some people, people who call themselves CHRISTIANS, and who dare to call Trent THE PASTOR, don't really see fit to accept this unlooked-for mana from heaven (I mean, who knew that "shortly" meant LONG BEFORE we NIN fans even got the slightest bit antsy?! Praise the Lord!), and instead, would rather carry on and fucking on about how much it's going to "suck more than ever before" and how they are sick and tired of the same band line-up, and what the fuck ever else. Jesus Fucking Christ, it's tiresome how some people do carry on.
I've really only got one thing to say to those people: SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU BITCHY QUEEN. I mean, not that the current collection of Stank COVERS OF TRENT'S SONGS isn't awesome in a rubber-necking-at-car-crash, Guns-n-Roses-show kind of way, but let's face it: Trent's worst moment -- yes, I mean "Deep", "Starfucker's, Inc.", and that time he wore sunglasses on Top of the Pops -- is still an accomplishment you can only dream of while you endlessly buff the bishop, squeezing off a few measly drops of diseased jizz, thinking about how awesome it would be if you had even a FRACTION of that potentcy, so why don't you just go outside and play a nice game of hide and go fuck yourself.
We'll just hang out here and count to 56 bazillion.
I justify this next post, which, technically, has NOTHING WHATSOEVER to do with Trent Reznor because of how His Majesty once directed us to "Stay gay".
Plus, Gabriel is gay, so...
I think we should all watch the following video clips, because they are fucking hilarious, and, as I mentioned, Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart are scrumdillyumptious.
And, on that note, it's MAN-SOON SEASON!!!
It's awesome, because it should occupy about half an hour of this horrible, dark, Trent-less day.
I couldn't resist it! I blame my mortal illness! DEAL WITH IT!!!
See what happens, Trent? See?!
Oh my motherfucking God.
I step away from the computer for FIVE MINUTES, and what the fuck do you all get up to? Worshiping at a spunk stained altar to GABRIEL "BITCH OF THE CENTURY" MILLER?
Pathetic. Seriously puke-worthy. When Meathead posted that retarded "Who Wants Attention" gameshow bullshit on the NIN Hotline, I thought that if he didn't mean Rob Sheridan, Aaron North, or Trent himself, he must have been poking a little well-aimed fun at himself for being a party to the whole "save Meathead's Wikipedia page" drive, spearheaded by his ass-licking minions at ETS, but now I know that Gabriel is even sadder and more pathetic than I ever imagined, because if he didn't go so far as to cook up his own fucking retarded fanbase (Lair of the Stank OBVIOUSLY consists of one or two smart-asses -- my theory? GAY MEN, NATCH! -- all posting under different names), he has been basking shamelessly in the paltry glow of having a fucking LIVE JOURNAL page dedicated to his STANKY ASS.
Let me tell you something, you fucking nitwits: I KNOW GABRIEL MILLER. Gabriel Miller is a fucking HEADCASE. Moreover, he has a TINY, TINY COCK, and a very severe problem with PREMATURE EJACULATION. I have heard ALL ABOUT how little satisfaction there is to be got at the business end of his so-called "cock". Why do you think he feels the need to endlessly bang on and fucking on about his SPUNK PRODUCTION? I'll tell you why: he practically throws a fucking PARADE everytime a single drop of pearly white emerges from the tip of his MICRO-PENIS!
I can't BELIEVE I have to remind you WHY WE ARE HERE, but let me do it anyway:
We are here to celebrate the VOLCANIC GENUIS and STAGGERING LUSCIOUSNESS of TRENT "SPARKLEPANTS" REZNOR, and gush ENDLESSLY (into our panties) about the way his HAIRY, SWEATY ARMS, SHARP, PORNOGRAPHIC TEETH, and RELENTLESS, HARD, THRUSTING ARTISTRY make us ache TO THE VERY CORE.
Remember when you were in grade school, and you did that science project where you make a "Volcano" out of vineagar and baking soda? Well, if Trent is fucking VESUVIUS, that's how Gabriel Fucking Miller compares to Trent Reznor.
Finally, FUCK YOU ALL!!!!
is brilliant, and I do
commend you all for
being so very
spectacular in your filth
but you know? I can't
help thinking Trent would
be appalled at the thought
of fucking his dog.
And, if we want to
be so retarded we have
to earn it with brains
sometimes. I demand
therefore, that Gabriel shut-up
and beg the rest of you
to say something sweet
and preferrably, clever,
before I fucking
crack. Dear readers, what
have we become? I thought
Trent was our sweet love?
Firstly, I think you should all know that Paris is about 1 mile from the sun today. It is very fucking hot, and that means I will be cranky. So... fuck you all.
Especially you, Gabriel.
Secondly, I want to hereby make the final comment I ever hope to make on recent events here at WTC. While I prefer to allow this website to be a free, self-regulating, and open forum for everyone who loves Trent Reznor to absolute pieces (even fucktards like Gabriel who can't admit the shameful truth), it has been true in recent days that such a laissez-faire approach is not always posssible.
Everyone here who is a regular reader knows that we have a couple of commenting rules. First, we do not discuss Trent Reznor's lovelife here, because this is my website, and it rubs me the wrong way. We don't discuss the size of Trent Reznor's cock**, because that topic is banal and boring, and no one here cares if he's working the full nine inches, or, as Courtney Love so famously asserted, three inches of pure fury. Trent is Trent is Trent, and his cock, while I don't doubt that it is spectacularly magnificent in every single conceivable respect, is beside the point.
Likewise, we will not tolerate incessant spamming or flooding. We've seen our share of ungrammatical posts from awesome, haterific trolls, and frankly, we love them because they make us laugh. Just to be clear: we are not going to edit dissent from our pages, but the tsunami of meaningless, deeply tiresome crap we've had to wade through on this website for the past week or so is just too much trouble. In future, without comment and without regard to post content, any posts that are deemed by me, or any other editor of this site, to be spam or flooding will be deleted. Protests about such actions can be submitted by e-mail to any one of us (addresses at the bottom right of any page on this site), but I'll tell you fuckfaces (you know who you are) right now that the answer will probably be a bored and beleaguered "Go eat a bowl of dicks."
Meanwhile, I encourage all of you readers who truly do enjoy this charming website to avoid feeding the monkeys who are throwing poo around. Just ignore it. If you have questions, again, you can e-mail us, and our answers to you will probably be more like "Love, Love, Kiss, Kiss!", unless you write to Gabriel; in that case, I can't vouch for what he might say, and you just have to take your chances.
Finally, I'm sure this got lost in the scrum somewhere, but the next item on our listening club schedule is Saul Williams's self-titled record. In my opinion, it's fucking great, and since our attempt to include him in our book club wasn't the hugest success, I thought we might be able to give him his due in listening to his record. Like always, even if you know this record well, give it a fresh listen. I can't wait to hear your comments, and we will discuss it on Monday.
Finally, let's just not forget one very important thing around here, ok?
Trent Reznor is fucking scrumptious.
PS. I love you readers who send me pictures! You guys rule.
**Except Gabriel. Gabriel can feel free to discuss the size of Trent's cock ALL DAY LONG if he wants to. I certainly don't want to rein anything in that might be a boon to his sexual freedom, because God knows he needs all the help he can get.
I'm pretty sure this deserves a post of it's own. I know you guys are really going to love the hair-flipping. Personally, I love the way Trent is DEAD FUCKING SERIOUS about this shit.
I've just got one thing to say to Mr. Hair, here, who just got finished opening for Culture Club, and being compared to Thomas Dolby, and that's YOU'VE COME A LONG WAY, BABY.
Do you guys have a sec? Because I need to splutter incoherently, here... Have you SEEN THE NEW VIDEOS on nin.com?!
Do you think Trent is trying to kill me?
Seriously, the part where he tickles the ivories on Iggy Pop's Niteclubbing, just for example, fucking SLAYS me. I love the close-up on Trent's fucking HOTT hands cam, and gentle readers? I love that man so much it makes me mortally ill. I totally don't want to die, though, dudes, because I know there will be more of these absolutely delicious little slices of PURE HEAVEN to come, and if I expire now, I'm going to miss them! I guess I need to fucking cling to life just a little bit longer. I'm a fighter; I think I can hold on.
I have to say, people, I'm pretty disappointed in the general lack of enthusiasm everyone around here is showing for these absolutely magnificent little collaborations. These new videos show Trent Reznor, the world's hottest man, in a room with a bunch of total studs (ok... maybe not Jeordie White), doing exactly that thing that makes him such a fucking force of nature: playing bee-yooot-iful music. There are millions of little details to enjoy and enumerate in rapturous terms, like Trent's hands, the way Trent looks when he's concentrating on shit, the way he's playing nice with others, how fucking awesome "Warm Leatherette" is, how Peter Murphy completely shreds on "Reptile"... I could go on and fucking on, but I seem to have a whole internet community of Nine Inch Nails devotees who can't SAY A WORD ABOUT IT.
Seriously, can someone please pipe up with some actual discussion of how motherfucking awesome this is? HELLO? IS ANYONE WATCHING THIS SHIT?
Because, to me? It looks like the most miraculously beautiful magic trick ever. I am beside myself with happiness. There are TWO OF ME typing right now.
Also, Trent? I LOVE YOU.