It’s finally going to happen . . . Paramount is finally pulling its head out of its ass and releasing a DVD of Friday the 13th: Uncut Special Edition. And rumors say that uncut sequels may be included for an uncut box set. Hi-o-dig-a-lie!

So I’m glad I never purchased the box set that they put out not long ago. I feel bad for the people who did – my friends Kingstown Ted and Tony over at the Horror Etc. Podcast for one. But I’m sure they’re ecstatic about this news.

I just can’t wait for new scenes of bloody slasher goodness!

Yesterday was one of my favorite days of the NFL season: my chance to watch my kick-ass Steelers beat up on the stupid Browns. But before I get to that, I have a few more comments on other things that went on in the NFL yesterday.

Before I go any further, let me warn you: despite the fact that I enjoy watching football, that in no way means I know what I’m talking about. If you really want to hear someone that knows what they’re talking about, go visit my brother, who’s developing a sports blog and is much more knowledgeable and I am.

Since the Steelers game was on at 8:15pm, I had time to watch the Patriots and the Jets go at it. To be honest, I didn’t care at all who won or lost in that game. I’d be happy to see the Patriots lose, because they’re nothing but a cheating pack of cocky assholes. And while it’s a bummer to see people get hurt, a grin crossed my face when I heard little Tommy Brady was out for the season.

And I would have been happy to see the Jets lose because of that washed-up out-of-retirement greedy egomaniac Brett Favre. And let’s get one thing straight: it should be pronounced FAV-ER. Not FARV. It’s like me saying that my name is spelled C-O-R-E-Y, but’s it’s pronounced NARVARCTIM. Anyhow, Brett looked old and tired yesterday, and his quarterbacking sucked; and while the quarterbacking on the Patriots’ end wasn’t anything to crap your pants about either, it was at least slightly better.

So, in the end, it was the Patriots and I really didn’t care.

That evening, I finally got to sit down and watch my Steelers in wonderful HD. Unfortunately, I got to see all of about 5 plays before my power went out because of the high winds blowing up from that hurricane that blew through Texas the other day. The power was out all night, so I couldn’t enjoy the massacre of the Browns. What a ripoff!

But I had no doubts that the Steelers could murder the Browns yet again. I even had dreams last night – I kid you not – where I was checking the scores, seeing that the Steelers had won. One web site in my dream reported that the score was 143-7. I’ll be damned.

I knew it as soon as I saw one of the tracks titled “The Unforgiven III.” Let’s just say they should have called this Shit Magnetic.

I haven’t had any hope for these guys in about 15 years. I bought Load when it came out, then promptly sold it at a used CD store to help buy a Butthole Surfers CD instead, which was much more worthwhile. Then I hoped Reload would let the band redeem themselves . . . but was disappointed again, and lost interest in them all together. The only reason I noticed them again during that time is when they released Garage Inc., because hey, the re-released Garage Days stuff kicks ass (but none of the new stuff did, though).

I won’t even mention their retarded symphonic thing. St. Anger was a disc that sounded much better if you vomited on it and played it on a CD player that didn’t work.

So Death Magnetic was supposed to be the triumphant return. All the reviewers talking about this CD have been crapping their pants, saying this is And Justice for All part 2. So what the hell, I’ll give it a chance. I love heavy music.

Well, Metallica pulled the wool over my eyes again. Those bastards. They’re trying really, really hard to sound like they did 20 or so years ago. But they’re old. James is sober. Lars is even more of a tool. Gorilla-man is on bass.

Frankly, the only worthwhile member of the band is Kirk. He really needs to find some new friends to hang out with. Ones that have some sort of realistic musical aspirations. His solos rock.

Hetfield’s voice is worse than Bob Dylan’s nowadays. I think the only way he can get back any of his former magic is with the aid of that magic juice. When he’s drunk, he’s interesting. And the riffs just aren’t that heavy anymore. Yeah, they’re close, but just don’t cut it.

So Metallica has crossed me one too many times, and I’m now officially swearing them off for good. On a scale of 1 to 10, I give it a 2.

I’ve just wiped out my whole blog here and started from scratch. Truth is, the thing was big and weird and fragmented, and started feeling out of control.

I was going to be Mr. Fancy Pants and design a big new complicated look for the re-launch of this blog, but then I said to hell with it. Simple look this time around.

At some point I’ll be re-posting my Podcast M songs, just for old time’s sake (ANYTHING is worth doing for old time’s sake). For now, that project is on hiatus, as my duties at the Midnight Podcast have reduced my songwriting time. But I may post something new from time to time, as I am in a constant state of songwriting. I can’t help it. It’s like crack to me. Audible crack.