I got home from last night’s ridiculously, ludicrously fun Dillinger Escape Plan’s show at The Music Hall of Williamsburg in the wee hours of this morning to find a new Limp Bizkit single, “Shotgun,” in my inbox. (The above cover art was apparently done by Wes Borland. Good to know he’s multi-talented.) And even though I was riding high on the buzz of DEP (and other things) and should have just gone to sleep, I decided, no, let me listen to this right now, and in doing so take my joy out back behind the barn and shoot it dead.

And shoot it dead I dead.

There’s a lot about this song that is just bad in a regular, fairly boring way — like the main riff, which is pretty standard 120 Minutes stuff.

But then there are parts of this song that are so phenomenally terrible as to be truly worthy of the name “Limp Bizkit.”

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In 1997 there was this girl that I was really into. I don’t even remember what her name was now, but I remember being very excited when I finally found myself at her place with just the two of us for company.

“Hey, wanna hear something awesome?” she asked me. The correct answer in that situation is obviously “Yes,” and so she walked over to her stereo and hit “play.” And this is what came out of the speakers:

The song ended and I figured out some excuse to leave and I left. Later I wondered if the girl really liked the song (she certainly seemed to) or if she played it knowing it was awful because she couldn’t think of a polite way to reject me, but it’s a moot point: I will never know how my relationship with that girl might have played out, all because she had to go and be the first person ever to introduce me to Limp Bizkit, and, more specifically, Limp Bizkit’s terrible covers.

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I don’t know. I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know. I’ll bring it up in therapy this week.

In any case, I am now about to listen to this song for the first time, and just type out my thoughts as I do. Should I get high for this, take the edge off a little? I think I’m gonna get high for this. Be right back.

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Uncle Vinnie is back; under a moon-lit sky at Saturday night’s Tool show in New Jersey, Axl and I had “a moment” and kissed and made up.

Seriously though, folks, I was just on vacation at the MetalSucks Mansion Kentucky Korner. Did some of you ninnies actually believe I quit?

Wouldn’t be surprising given all the feuding that’s gone down in metal this summer already, though, and we haven’t even reported on the tummy-tickling beef between Machine Head and Limp Bizkit.

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