This is called Kid Rocking up and down the block

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Sort of a sad commentary on the current culture.

Bobby the Kid

MOST PEOPLE don't or can't stand or even understand my affinity for Kid Rock. Women think he embodies every bad, despicable, and vile quality that men hopelessly look up to. Smoking, drinking, drugs, fucking strippers and taking them to breakfast the next morning.

Ya know, rock star.

Which is why I found it weird when many of my friends scoffed at the idea that I was so psyched about the new Kid Rock album, Rock N Roll Jesus. They probably think that he is a white, trailer trash redneck piece of shit.

And he is from Romeo, Michigan. So go figure.

But this little tale happened way back in the old west. Back when nights were dangerous and people that were claiming they were holding were strangers....

I started listening to Kid Rock when the shit was hitting the fan. My friend, who I have a hankering suspicion, is nursing a serious drug habit, introduced me to Devil Without a Cause.

And I thought it was brilliant for the time. Mix a crazy white DJ, give him a record and let him rock out with his cock out while spittin' out rhymes about nickles and dimes.

Oh those were the times.

Is he immature?

Well, let's say he's one cocky motherfucker.

And he can be.

Now, sure with iTunes, getting music is easier these days. But I was never fond of buying music. Shit, my CD collection is what one of my good friends called, "An ode to the 90s."

So I don't buy music. And the only thing that I make an effort to spend my drinking money on was always Kid Rock albums.

Fuck, everyone has a story.

Because, contrary to popular belief, I still think that Kid Rock embodies everything that Rock N Roll should stand for. The bad shit. The stuff that makes you lock your doors, drink, and yell at your typewriter, and go to strip clubs, and call assholes door knobs, and order drinks from guys named Bob.

It's rock and roll baby.

To me Kid Rock, embodies America. It sounds simple, but Pollacks have weird visions of this country. And this one is mine. This is freedom.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here?

Maybe we're not ALL doomed. Just on Mondays, you know.

And he sings about love. And as fucking sappy as that sounds, every man needs an angel to rescue him from himself.

Or put him in the gutter.