Grandpa Jarrett's drunken, hate-filled rant #1 a.k.a. I'm getting too old for this shit

Hey bros, what's up? My name is Trevor McBlueSocks, but my street name is Johnny Rollerskates. I play in a popular band called Buttsex McGee and the Ghouly Toolies. I'm the upright bass player, and I get tons of pussy. You may have seen me cruising downtown on my lowrider bicycle, or you may have heard of my "car club". (If you're not a member already, then fuck you, you loser.) You've probably recognized me by my greasy pompadour hairstyle or the bandana hanging from back pocket of my "working-class" Levis. Yeah, that's me alright. Pretty bitchin, huh?

I'm really into Hot Rods, Bettie Page, hot chicks with Bettie Page bangs, fat chicks with Bettie Page bangs, switchblades, World War II, The Cramps, West Side Story, Chuck Taylors, and standing on my upright bass. I told you I was bitchin. I just wanted to tell you guys how Rockabilly culture has totally changed my life! Something about twingy-twangy Gretsch guitars and washboard players just do something to me. The music, the style, the 60-year-old culture - it just speaks to my soul! I realize that I live in an upper-class suburb. I know that I used to have a blue mohawk and I listened to Operation Ivy, but that was just a phase. Believe me - this Rockabilly shit is who I really am. I've got a different outlook on life now.

My crew is all about bringing the scene back to its roots. Like, punk was cool, I guess, but now it's all about punk-country. Puntry. Cunk. We're looking to the future by delving into the boring, pathetic past. We miss the good ol' days when girls wore poodle skirts and boys looked like John Travolta in Grease. (I've watched that movie 5011 times now, and I must say that I've got his style nailed.) Man oh man, those were the days.

Some people might say that my friends and I look like major try-hards, or that we're cookie-cutter assholes. Society may think that we're simply leeching off a vision of Americana that died out decades ago, but I say that society is a bunch of squares. Get with the times man. Some people might say that my grandfathers would smack the shit out of me if they saw me like this, but my grandfathers are dead.

Well, that's pretty much all I have to say, Daddy-O. My band will be playing a terrible show at The Ficklefling on Friday. We're playing with Tommy Thunder, The Riveters, Fonzi and the Blowfish, and Death From Above 1942. It's 50 bucks to get in, but free if you know the secret hand jive. I'm pretty sure that you don't know it, so the joke is on you. My band goes on first, so come early and watch me do tricks with my upright bass. I can do handstands on it now. Additional parking will be available in the back for your Model T or your flame-detailed scooter.

By the way, I know that I used to make half-assed breakcore on Tigerbeat, but never-mind that. I'm retro now. I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.