Four Fancy Boys Club writers- Matt Drufke, Brandon Andreasen, Michael Grace and Jake Drummond- each chose 16 songs from their first two years of high school that had a profound impact on them. From there, the March Music Madness bracket was born.
From now through Friday, we’ll reveal the songs that made the cut by region and doing our first round. You can vote at our Facebook or our Twitter or at the polls at the bottom of this page.
With all the hubbub, hullabaloo or both if you prefer (after all it is your life), I completely neglected to scribble out something for the Roughneck Report, Take 5.
I mean what was I thinking about? What else could possibly be going on to thwart me from my duties as the Roughnecks numero uno fan of the fan base probably only known by me as the Rowdies?
I could have been thinking that maybe… possibly… along the lines of our esteemed federal government this whole ‘virus thing’ would blow over, cross our collective paths like an errant tumbleweed across the great American desert.
Well my friends, that was not it. Those of us who are relatively sane knew how the Administration of the Bloated Circus Peanut would stumble around like a bantamweight after a Henry Cejudo haymaker and for certain fuck this whole mess up.
Oh well, back to the report. Okay. The Roughnecks have finished the aborted season undefeated and for certain are the de facto champions for the 2020 XFL season which may possibly be the only XFL season.
Hand them the fucking trophy Vince McMahon, which I think is just his head in a fabulous bronze patina.
Congrats Roughnecks. Now you can afford to go out and find a logo that doesn’t rip-off the old Houston Oilers.
No ending cheer. Season’s over.
PS Seriously be safe out there and do not trust in the Federal Government to give two shits about you and your family, not with the bleating yam in charge.
PPS Weezer really got me pumped to whip this little old report right quickly. Thanks!
Last weekend, my wife and I met friends for a night of tapas. On the way home, with our bellies full of Spanish meats and cheeses, we turned on the radio and heard “The End Of The Game,” the newest single from Weezer. That a band who has been making music for 25 years can get a new single on the radio was, at the very least, surprising. The fact that the song sounds exactly like Weezer was, well, not surprising.
But as I heard the newest song from a band who has made 14 albums (their newest album, Van Weezer, will be the third album in two years), I couldn’t help but think about their second album. In the course of the song’s three minutes and twenty-one seconds, I didn’t even hear the new song anymore. Every chord and lyric I heard made me think of an album which came out over two decades ago. For days, one major question just kept popping into my brain like one of River Cuomo’s sing-along melodies:
Fancy Boys Club 