Editor's Note: I'm the first to admit that, as an editor, I'm something of a pain in the ass to work with. To put it mildly, I tend to get a little carried away. My revisions are often so dramatic that my writers don't recognize their own work. And bless their hearts they really don't complain about it as much as they have a right to. Tyson Cantrell has suffered the most under my meddlesome hand - as I cobble away at his words and twist them to my own purposes and at the very least cut the "curse-word count" in half.
As he has worked his way into a position of value in our intimate stable, he's earned the right to complain and the following review is his way at really getting back at me. It's a review that I'd either have to run as is, or scrap altogether. The clever bastard has written a review that is way beyond fixing and yet he knows that I respect him too much to dismiss his rights out of hand. Thus the following review is a bit of an illustration (it should give the average reader a better understanding of what it's like to be the captain of this ship. And it will also be something of a test - A test of the parental control devices you've installed into your browser. So without further ado - Ladies and Gentleman the Unexpurgated Tyson Cantrell:
If you're looking for the perfect soundtrack for an anal raping, then buy Adam Richman's new album, Patience and Science. If you just want to keep it real like a thug then find Adam Richman take his guitar and slap him in the face with it. I really hope Kevin Jones isn't a "big follower" of
Richman or I'd put in my two week's in disgust.
This album is fucked up lame. It sounds like that dipshit from A New Found Glory went and did a solo project - which translates into pure effervescing shit. I haven't heard anything this shitty since that enema blew out my constipated ass last week. "Eat more fiber" that doc says, screw that idea, how about I just listen to Adam Richman, then for sure I'll shit my pants listening to the biggest pussy since Chris Carraba. I saw Richman's picture on MySpace as the artist of the day (Sorry, MySpace is dumb I know). I should've known by the Buddy Holly glasses that I was in for a treat of stab-the-part-of-your-brain-out-that-remembers-this proportions. They were ranting and raving over this nerd so I decided to download his whole album like an asshole would thanks to LimeWire. Thank God too; I wasn't about to waste my money on this. I'd rather buy the entire Night Ranger collection on vinyl.
I would hate to see the throngs of retards that made this dude popular. That would be witnessing humanity at its worst. I suppose there is a little bit of a likability factor represented in Richman's musicÂ….pffft, just kidding. Listening to this was like watching a hideously fat woman try to pry her ass out of a late 80's model Camero, all the while wearing
a pink, skintight t-shirt so boldly stating "YOUR BOYFRIEND WANTS ME." I was confused, felt kinda sorry and embarrassed for her, but at the same time wanted to scream, "What the FUCK lady, fix that shit." Yeah this guy sucks.
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