With a Yo Ho Ho and a Really Sweet Bass Riff

So I don’t know how many of you get your musical suggestions. Some people get theirs from friends, others by following such programs as Pandora or the suggestion box of Amazon.com, others just take a wild stab in the dark and buy (or download, let’s be honest here) whatever strikes their fancy. As for me, I usually stick with the things I’ve been listening to for awhile or overhear in a friend’s car or something similar. But one thing I’ve also tried out a few times is by asking random people on the internet.

Now this always meets with the most random results you’ll ever see, which makes it all the more fun for me. Sure you get a lot of shit in the process, from the guy who will admit he doesn’t like a band because “it’s not emo enough” to the guy who suggests a CD about the delicacies of devouring babies in the elegant usage of screams, grunts and death squeals. But you also come across bands you’d never even think of checking out otherwise.

Now I’m sure those of you who follow the Metal scene probably have already heard about this, but for those of you who like me, appreciate Metal but don’t track its movements like a hobo following a drunken tourist, you may be just as shocked as me.

Pirate. Metal.

That’s right, guys, pirate-motherfucking-metal. Let’s be honest and cynical as hell, because as people of the internet we can allow ourselves that. Now, Pirate Metal, allowing ourselves to our honest cynicism, sounds like the stupidest idea ever. But the reality, my friends? It’s like getting really stoned, watching Pirates of the Caribbean, only Johnny Depp also has a really bitching guitar. One person I know referred to it as “badass, but hilariously so” and jesus-tapdancing-christ that’s the perfect way to describe it.

Now while I haven’t fully immersed myself in this rather amusing genre of Metal, I have managed to snag myself a copy of Captain Morgan’s Revenge by (the appropriately named) Alestorm. I’m constantly surprised by finding how much I’m really getting into it. It covers such things as a crew mutinying and being cursed by their Captain before he dies, terror on the high seas, and to more amusing topics such as a man named as the Pintmaster who fights with a flagon of ale and is undefeatable to a song called “Wenches and Meat” which, knowing me, will most likely be the thing I sing next time I’m drunk in a bar with people who are similar to me in the fact that they will remember nothing of it in the morning.

Of course, those sad pitiful bastards that like neither Pirates nor Metal will naturally not like this either. Also, while I find the genre to be amazing and hilariously badass as aforementioned, I can also see how the novelty can wear off mighty quick. Nonetheless, if you feel like a quick laugh and something that is most definitely interesting as hell to listen to, pick up a stein of your favorite beer, drink up and slip in some Alehouse. If by the second or third drink you don’t find you and your friend swaying in unison and mumbling the lyrics under your breaths, then you’re obviously nothing but a sorry landlubber.

I have to say though, this does make me wonder about other types of Metal. I’ve heard of Power Metal, Speed Metal, Prog Metal, Symphonic Metal, Death Metal and many others, yet for some reason this genre keeps on throwing sub-genre after sub-genre at me. Each one has certain similarities but also brings something new to the table and Pirate Metal is merely my most recent discovery. I think out of curiosity if nothing more, I’ll start typing random words before Metal and seeing what pops up. “Boob Metal” perhaps. Or “Super Totally Awesome Metal”. But know this, oh readers, if I don’t return to rant on another day that’s only because I’ve found the one type of Metal that by its mere name alone will make all other subgenres of Metal completely obsolete.

That’s right. Ninja Metal.

~ Guest Article written by Agent 22

If He Lived In Korea, He’d Have a Lot More to Worry About

Hello there, ladies and gents. We interrupt your regularly scheduled internet surfing to talk to you about a subject that affects each and every one of us. From that big scary acne-covered badass that used to kick over your sandcastles at the beach, to that one kid back in preschool who never could seem to get the skid marks out of his pants. That’s right, ever so humble internet reader, I am going to rant on about fears.

Now that we’ve already ascertained that everyone has fears, let’s talk a little about the different types of fears people have. Now fears come in all shapes, sizes, intensities and bra sizes (if you don’t believe me, ask a prepubescent boy who’s working up the courage to ask a girl to the dance for the first time). However, it is my personal belief that almost all fears can be broken down into one of three
categories.

A) Rational Fears
B) Legitimate Fears
C) Crazy-ass whack-job fears.

“But oh, wise Teapot Army, ye who allows me to kill five minutes every Monday and Thursday and occasionally on other days when the whim strikes you, how can I possibly tell the difference between these types of fears?” you are most likely asking. Well, luckily for both you and I, the internet allows me to be as anonymous as a myspace hacker, so I shall use myself as a quick example of certain types of fears I believe fall into these distinct categories.

We shall cover rational fears first, as surprisingly these are the fears that we usually try to avoid letting people know about. For my own example, my mother suffers from a condition that certain Spanish specialists refer to as being un loco bitch. And of course, such a wonderful condition is hereditary but since the specialists in this field are little more than glorified pill-pushers, I was basically told, “Eh… you seem alright, I guess. Probably, oh I don’t know, 50/50 chance you got it? Whatever, don’t worry about it unless you feel like killing yourself. You might want to call me if that pops up, just as long as it isn’t on the weekend.”

Is worrying about one’s sanity rational? Probably not for most people but I like to think I have a good excuse for labeling this into such a category. Other rational fears I would include in the list would be such things as Superman being afraid of kryptonite, most people’s unwillingness to see how deep their thumb can go into a crocodile’s bunghole and similar worries.

Let us move on to legitimate fears. Now these are fears that are perhaps a little bit irrational but you have a reason behind them. I also put certain fears in this category that aren’t perhaps life-threatening but still annoying as hell. Do you want some examples, oh faithful internet reader? Of course you do and luckily for you, I have two.

One such legitimate fear I have is regarding my car, which my friends and I affectionately term “The Crimson Deathtrap.” Mostly because I’ve only had it for less than a year and the goddamn thing has nearly killed me not once but twice! The first time badly enough for me to require a short hospital stay, though some would argue this was due to my own stupidity combined with the car. Anyway, long story short, whenever my car makes any sort of funny noise, whether it be a hum, a click or a loud pop followed by grating and the whump that comes from diving deep into a snow bank, I am convinced that I am most likely going to die immediately afterwards in a fireball of epic proportions. Needless to say, driving is a rather adrenaline-pumping experience for me.

The other fear I am going to mention is certainly just as rational (translation = not very) as the other fear in my legitimate category, however to me it is far more serious because it has happened several times before. I’m sure at least some of you have been there. It’s been a long week at work, you have a party to go to on Friday night and then you look forward to nothing more but being able to vegetate in your apartment with a case of beer, a pack of smokes (and for some of you perhaps) a nice, jolly bag of some sort of illegal substance or other. You make an appearance at the party, enjoy yourself for a bit and then head home. Only to wake up the next morning, with a case of beer and a pack of smokes, but neither lighter nor bottle opener. Have you ever tried to light a cigarette from an electric outlet? Not as easy as those career criminals make it look, trust me.

Lastly we have our crazy-ass whack job fears. Oh, you have them, I guarantee it. Afraid of spiders? Guess what, bitch, your twenty bazillion times bigger than it is, get over it (or for the love of God tell me how to get over it). That’s a rather crazy fear. But I’m sure if you dig deep you’ll find fears that surprise you with just how absolutely crazy they are. Want to hear mine? Of course you do, that’s why you’re still reading, isn’t it? Well, here it is:

A Pillsbury Dough Boy Action Figure (not doll, never doll!) built with Terminator technology. I shit you not, ladies and gentleman, the very idea absolutely fucking terrifies me and if you’d been in that urine-soaked bed being chased by a two foot tall monster with glowing eyes every time you closed your eyes when you were five years old, let me tell ya, you fucking would be too.

Now I know these rants normally end with a witty way of tying the whole subject together, perhaps amaze you with some intriguing wordplay or something like that, but I will not stoop to such tricks, oh readers. Instead I will tell you, if you ever even think one of your friends is considering building a Pillsbury Dough Boy Robotic Action Figure with Terminator Kung-Fu grip, you slaughter that son of a bitch right then and there. It might not be considered rational at the time but the people of the future will hail you as their Messiah.

~ Guest Article written by Agent 22
If you have any comments or questions for this guest author, please email us at teapotarmy@gmail.com and all questions or comments will be forwarded on. If you are interested in submitting your own piece, email us about that as well!