Dillinger's Run

1st December 2009

Photo with 5 notes

Extreme Metal Hunks: Travis Ryan (Cattle Decapitation, 5/5/2000, UUM, Anal Flatulence, Strangulation)

Hot Because: This here is a hunk with heart filled with gooey sympathy for the Earth. An animal lover and vegetarian, Travis - along with his main band, Cattle Decapitation - write and perform songs entailing themes about pro-animal and environmental issues…and the um *cough* total destruction of the human race. This isn’t some hippy who would get his ass handed to him by a fucking squirrel in a fight. This hunk still loves   all the killing and murderous gore that comes with the genre of grindgore. But his pro-animal/gore-fetishism isn’t what makes this man a hunk, it’s his showmanship.

There are too few schools of the death/grind frontman: the basics including your guitarist/singers (e.g. Chuck Schuldiner, Muhammed Suicemz) and your stationary monolith/badass (e.g. George Corpsegrinder Fisher, Kevin Sharpe, Frank Mullen). Travis is part of a rare breed of extreme metal frontman of the fast moving wild man with the energy of crack baby with ADHD. What I’m saying is the man knows how to put on a show: he holds the audience’s attention hostage, toys with it, and leaves it battered, begging for more.

Plus he has pretty blue eyes that one can get lost in like a mighty maelstrom (and then you drown and your corpse is washed up on the shore three days later…)

Ideal Date: The two of you meet late (emphasis on the LATE) at out near the 7-11 that is conveniently close to the medical testing facility. As par your agreement, you both are wearing black along with gloves and full face masks. He hands you a crowbar and leads you towards the medical testing facility stepping lightly with the swiftness of a cheetah stalking its sluggish prey. After about four paragraphs of high stakes stealth maneuvers that rival the greatest scenes of a high budget 90’s spy film, the two of you break into the facility and enter the main testing room. The sights are unbearable: monkeys, being kept prisoner and forced into scientific experimentation are scattered around in cages. Travis stands still, his voice silent. His breath hesitant. A single tear rolls down his cheek.

“We must free them,” he says. As he makes for the nearest cage, a scientist (you assume due to the lab coat and regular lack of physical build) walks into the room holding a cup of coffee. He drops his coffee in shock and screams, “DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU”RE DOING?”

Both Travis and you stare with contempt at the so-called scientist, “THESE CHIMPS ARE INFECTED! IF THEY ARE RELEASED THEY WILL DESTROY ALL HUMANKIND WITHIN A MANNER OF DAYS BY SPREADING A VIRUS THAT TURNS ITS VICTIMS INTO HYPERACTIVE CANNIBAL RAPISTS!”

Travis pauses, his crowbar raised in the air about to strike the cage’s lock, “Cool.” Travis smashes each and every lock while the monkeys flood the halls of the facility, brutally killing and sodomizing the facilities faculty in a sadistic gore filled haze of ultraviolence that would make the Marquis de Sade blush.

The two of you then go for a quaint diner at a local vegan diner while the streets run red with the bodies of crazed murderous rapists.

Deal Breaker: I don’t know, this guys seems like the complete package: cute, compassionate, has a sense of humor and is part of an awesome band. However his greatest selling point could be his biggest down fall for some: the whole don’t-eat-meat deal. It’s not clear on whether or not he is a Nazi with his vegetarianism but if you’re anything like me then you’d rather die than give up on steaks and chops.

Tagged: Extreme Metal Hunksdeath metalgrindgrindcoremetal

24th November 2009

Photo with 5 notes

[via]

Extreme Metal Hunk: Dan Seagrave

Hot Because: There is a certain air of mystery to one Mr. Seagrave (the name alone can drop pants to the floor) but that’s mainly because I’m being snobby and assuming only a handful of people know who this man is. This is the man behind some of the greatest metal album covers ever - I cannot stress this enough, so I’ll say it again - EVER. As a self-taught painter he set the bar for death metal album covers and few have passed him since. His highly detailed and nightmarish images paint the picture of a soul twisted by a life filled with agony…or he just really likes fucked up shit. That’s cool, Seagrave, so do I.

Ideal Date: He tells you to meet him in the park - more like commands you to do so - and so you do. You find him the center of the park near a fountain or some shit like that, painting…..wait. Sorry, already used this one.

He tells you to meet him in the park at the coffee shop. The two of you meet and sit outside drinking espressos and sharing a blue berry coffee cake over some polite conversation about the latest rumors about celebrities. As the conversation rolls past the possible sightings of a possible penis on Lady Gaga you notice Dan’s hand - furiously scribbling on a napkin as though independent from the rest of his body.

“What is that?” you ask.

“Oh this?” he looks down at the napkin, “Didn’t even realize that I was doing it. It’s just this idea I had in my head that I needed to get out.”

“Well let it out,” you say in an attempt to sound sensual, or whatever.

Nonetheless, Dan agrees. After the two of you quickly finish your coffee house snack you make way to his studio, where he must set his idea free. Upon entering his studio he dashes to an empty easel. In an almost trance-like state he throws down a few devastating strokes that alone remind you of that time you took acid and watched Aliens (if you have not done this then I highly recommend doing so). As Dan starts to get more and more into the painting, you calmly sit behind him, on his couch, waiting. Waiting to see what such a man can produce.

After an hour (or more realistically 1-3 weeks, but we’re talking about ideals here) the painting is finished. Dan steps back and reveals his final product for you to see. The horrors: the sharp spires, fluid winds, and blood soaked hellspawn. The image shows a man standing above a pit of HELL (or any fiery afterlife of your choice). The look of sorrow on his face as the wind blows through his hair and tattered clothes. He is looking at the many bloody and torture souls struggling up the jagged walls in futile attempts to escape their fate. A single tear is rolling down his face.

“He has lost someone,” Dan whispers, “someone he loves.”

“Brutal,” you reply, now wetter than a 14-year-old watching New Moon, “wanna make out?”

“Sure.”

Deal Breaker: This one is a strange issue, because for those who have dated artists surely know, that he can paint something so captivating that it can move you to tears but when it comes time to pay for diner his wallet is “mysteriously” gone because he had to pawn it for paint. At least this guy gets somewhat consistent work.

Just don’t ever respond to one of his paintings with, “I don’t get it.” He’ll either go into a rant about this being “what the Client wants” or that you “don’t understand abstraction” or something, which is altogether annoying and most of the time not worth it. (In summation: don’t tease him, he could be very sensitive about his latest picture of a nightmarish bulldozer)

[UPDATE! Apparently this is my 666th post! \m/\m/ What better way to worship Satan than with Metal-influenced homoeroticism? ]

Tagged: Extreme Metal Hunksartworkdeath metalmetal

10th November 2009

Photo with 6 notes

EXTREME METAL HUNKS SKIP WEEK! Why? Because I am tired. That and I don’t have enough written to make it worthwhile: allz I got is a couple of dick jokes and a short list for some potential hunks. I’ve been busy for the past couple of days and I simply don’t have anything prepared for today. Having said that I am actually preparing something big for next week’s EMH, it’s just not ready yet.

SO, check back next Tuesday for a SUPERAWESOMESPECIAL Extreme Metal Hunk. Seriously! It’ll be good. Tell your attractive friends to read it.

Tagged: Extreme Metal Hunks

3rd November 2009

Photo with 7 notes

Extreme Metal Hunk: Brann Dailor (Mastodon, Today is the Day, Lethargy, Discordance Axis (live), Gaylord)

Hot Because: I hesitate to post this because I just noticed that a lot of my posts recently have been about Mastodon. Can you blame me? This was the picture to do it for me. Man does a suit well. He does many things, well. Say what you will about the choice of hunks within the metal world but there seems to be a consistency of extremely chill dudes. Brann is the type to air drum to Rush, listen to Stevie Wonder while drunk, and leaves prank answering machine messages. No one understands him! But I/YOU DO! Maybe…

Plus tour schedule is what, like, 300+ days for Mastodon right now? 300+ days of high intensity, sweaty drumming can do wonders for sustainability and dexterity (i.e. he’ll bone you really good like).

Ideal Date:

Watch this. Seriously, just do it.

Finished?

K. You’re the one holding the camera. He’ll eventually steal the camera away from you and the two of you will later be seen in a video leaked to the internet under the title of Banging the Not So Little Drummer Boy. You receive a healthy sum of money from a lawsuit against your roommate who posted it. But you don’t care about the money. You’re ashamed not of the video but for the loss of a private and beautiful moment you shared with this drummer from a metal band (who probably won’t even stop in your town on the next tour). A moment lost to internet perversion and so forth. A moment that was meant for you to watch whenever your felt like watching yourself fuck a drummer on digital video.

Deal Breaker: You can choose only ONE! I know this isn’t that big of a deal for some, to FORCE YOUR HEART TO DECIDE! I’d fuck it up. I know I would. I’m the type to kill both because I couldn’t stand to choose between them so I didn’t have to come face to face with my whirlwind of emotions that fails to subside no matter how many of my problems I kill fix it’s never enough!

Ok, now I’m happy again.

Tagged: mastodonsludgemetalhardcoreExtreme Metal Hunks

27th October 2009

Photo with 5 notes

Extreme Metal Hunks

Bill Steer (Napalm Death, Carcass, Firebird)

Hot Because: “Niche appeal” is something I’m hesitant to state in a weekly segment that talks about hot guys in extreme metal. However, within a niche, only one may live, and Bill Steer is the fittest survivor of the niche for “Your High-School next door neighbour who plays the guitar in a local band.”

Think about it. The slender build and long hair go nicely with a simple jeans and t-shirt combo but it all comes together beautifully when he has a guitar on him. Hes that one kid who has faith in his craft and art - or is bored enough - to stick with a band that many may have referred to as “a broken washing machine vomiting.” Metal.

Plus the band(s) he stuck with plunged the face of punk and metal mouth first into a 4 foot metal spike. Napalm Death. Carcass. You cannot know grindcore without first listening to these bands. They set the bar in every measurable way. Too bad the majority of the members are unfuckable. But not Bill.

Plus he is British and hasn’t been torturing his vocal chords for 20+ years, so a cute accent is a possibility.

Ideal Date: He is gonna teach you a bit of guitar, he is. You’ve been thinking about it on and off and you’re a little annoyed that you never took time out to play the guitar. It seems easy enough, right? Well now that you’re in your early to mid 20’s you feel animosity towards your past-self as apparently the ship to learn new skills in life has left dock. Or something. If you’re above the age of 27, then really you have no excuse to hide behind - we all know you just want to get physically close to Bill.

One day, after last lesson where he got annoyed at you for not practicing, you come to your lesson prepared for the worst (i.e. you have to play a full song). When trying to slowly maneuver around the chord changes in the song Bill stops you to offer assistance. As your sit with your guitar Bill crouches behind you and positions his hands over yours. His swift and nimble hands lead yours through a whirlwind of notes and and chords. The two of you stop 3 minutes later. You: exhausted. Bill: warmed up.

He later tells you that you played a total of 12 songs within the 3 minutes.

Deal Breaker: Firebird. Don’t talk to him about Firebird. Blues rock? Sure thing. But Firebird? Really?

It’s not that it’s bad, or anything. It’s just for the best. For your sake, not his, of course.

Tagged: Extreme Metal Hunksgrindcoredeath metalbluesmetal

20th October 2009

Photo with 6 notes

Extreme Metal Hunks

Scott Hull (Pig Destroyer, Suppression, Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Head in the Picklejar, Enemy Soil, Treblinka, Japanese Torture Comedy Hour, Anal Cunt)

Hot Because: The man can write a riff. Need proof? The ENTIRE Pig Destroyer discography for starters. Not to mention the blood drenched fist full of side projects this man has taken part in. He handles a guitar better than Leatherface handles a chainsaw and has, over the years, become a modern grind legend. Modern legends are pretty hot.

Aside from his chops, I believe one of the best things going for him is that he has a job. Not just any job. Dude works as a secret government job as a computer specialist. This means two things: his job is “Top Secret” (which just means “Top Sexy” to the rest of the world) and he isn’t financially dependent on his artwork, which means his art will stay art.

Ideal Date: It’s the afternoon, it’s mid to late Summer and the air conditioner is broken. The two of you lie on the floor of your studio/basement/loft/apartment-thing, both too hot to really care about doing anything with your day. It’s around the point when you notice that the sweat from your forehead is dripping onto the floors when Scott gets up and walks over to your record player.

“It’s too fucking quiet,” he says as he reaches into his bag and pulls out Allan Holdsworth’s Metal Fatigue. The rest of the afternoon is wasted away as the two of you discuss the merits of jazz guitarist verses the so called virtuosos of today. After about two full hours of instrumental jazz fusion, Scott switches it over to The Melvins. You’re still to lethargic to move but that’s ok. Scott is here. He goes into the kitchen and starts to make a modest meal comprised of all the major food groups for the two of who to enjoy as an early dinner. The Melvins continue to play throughout the rest of the day.

After gaining back some of your lost energy from Scott’s diner the two of you go for a walk to the nearest forest-type place to your apartment. Nothing too fancy. But that’s what you want, nothing too fancy. It’s hot out; it’s a lazy afternoon and you have with you the best person to spend it with. The quality time will make the insane-monkey sex you’re surely to have together all the better… I assume.

Deal Breaker: You wanna get with this you have to find a way around this:

If you wish to ride the Scott Hull murdertrain of sexual delights then you must be like the mighty Lion of the Savanna and brutally kill the family in order to get to your lover of choice (seriously, Lions do that, look it up). This might be a bit harder for others to go through with, as I’m assuming the majority of people have a thing against murdering children in cold blood. Again, only assuming at this point.

Tagged: Extreme Metal Hunksdeath metalgrindgrindcoremetalpig destroyer

13th October 2009

Photo with 5 notes

Extreme Metal Hunks

Satyr (Satyricon, Storm, Thorns, Black Diamond Brigade)

Hot Because: Hair cut. Don’t get me wrong, most times there is nothing better than a big ol’ shag of thick and lustrous metal hair. But sometimes a dude can benefit from a haircut. And I’d know.

The short hair works. It kind of gives him a cold yet slick look that just works for him. Now he is Black Metal’s answer to Dave Gahan. Another way to describe it is a Nazi SS Officer mixed with Eric Northman from True Blood. Sounds weird, I know, but you know what? It works!

Ideal Date: Topiary Maze. Yeah, I’m gonna go with that…

In the late afternoon, after a quick snack of some surprisingly elegant street-vendor-hot dogs, you and Satyr go for a walk in a topiary maze. He calls it a labyrinth, which, of course, you don’t tease him about because he sounds so cute saying it in his little Norwegian accent.

Once the two of you are in the maze he suggests a fun little game of hide and seek. “Seems childish,” you say, almost downright boring, like you could predict that he was going to go with this.

“Well, we’ll see,” he strikes back at you. Before you can actually figure out what he meant by that he is off around the corner. Quick on his heels, you round the same corner to see where he is going, but there is no one there…

You look behind you. No one. You look around the nearest corner after that. Nothing. You walk 12 paces forward around a bend. Not a soul. After a solid 17 minutes of walking you come to a clearing within the maze. You’re alone. “Saytr…” you question the void.

“Yo,” Satyr rounds the first corner to your left, “sorry about that. I found this great spot where we can have dirty maze sex, want in?”

Yes. Yes you do want in.

Deal Breaker: Competition. Specifically, blondes. If they aren’t taking pictures with him they’re constantly fawning over him on their blogs. Think you can take on such creatures? Fine, go ahead. I’m not stopping ya! Just don’t come crying to me when you fail …actually, I take that back, you can come to me.

I also vaguely remember this one bland interview of his where he mentioned something about not liking Death that much. If that is the case then consider him not worth it. Death is Death. You do not fuck around with such laws, especially when I’ve included you in such good company.

Tagged: extreme metal hunksblack metal

6th October 2009

Photo with 7 notes

Extreme Metal Hunks

John “Bloodclot” Joseph (Cro-Mags, Bloodclot!, Both Worlds, Mode Of Ignorance, Fearless Vampire Killers)

Hot Because: Honestly…just look at him. Those pipes. And the tattoos (few wear them better). Dude is all beef and ink, but this isn’t some meathead body builder with a discount at American Eagle, this is John “Bloodclot!” Joseph, a man who’d sooner curb stomp a Polo Shirted Jock than share a beer with him. The man looks like the offspring of Henry Rollins and Nathan Fillion (or a dude that looks like Nathan Fillion) and with the all skull crushing power that comes with the genes.

Plus, if you front a band as seminal as Cro-Mags without loosing all your teeth, hair and wasteline by the age of 25 then you’re basically guaranteed underground Playboy status.

Ideal Date: The two of you meet on a highway overpass in the early morning — so early that the sun is just now pealing away the morning shade that was once cast over the highway’s car ladened horizon. You meet for a bike ride, a suggestion of his that he graciously brought up in a manner than in no way sounded like he was insinuating that you could stand to loose a few pounds. He just likes to bike. He’s got a “thing” for it, if you know what I mean (it’s ok if you don’t).

He takes you for a ride across town, which may seem like a somewhat daunting  exercise but you make frequent stops at ‘hip’ locations such as the Farmers’ Market, an independent coffee place that you never seen in your life, and well-stoked pawn-shops and thrift stores.

After eating fresh apples while browsing for second-hand short pants and tank-tops the two of you make a final stop at the park for lunch. While snacking on an elaborate  organic salad that he made with little to no effort you coyly ask him to rub your legs, having grown soar after attempting to keep up with his Olympian-strength legs, which have grown superhuman abilities from years of hardcore shows and biking.

“I can actually do you one better,” he says. He then briefly touches on his experience with the Hare Krishna and the many techniques that he learned. So instead of rubbing away the pain he has you meditate. Sure, the idea seems silly at first but he is hot enough that you play along, that is until it actually starts to work. With your eyes closed, he slowly takes you through some deep breathing exercises and with the rasp of his husky man-voice easily soothes you into a state of utter relaxation. 

After about ten paragraphs of mind melting hallucinations that lead to the opening of your “third eye” that I’m too lazy to write out, you finally come to. The pain in your legs is gone and even the lingering back pain you’ve been experiencing due to work has washed away. Thanks to all the good vibes and zero back-pain you lock eyes with John and stare into them for a solid minute and a half (seriously, I have this all timed out). The two you start making out at this point, because it was going to lead to that either way.

Deal Breaker: This one is a fighter. I highly doubt he’d be the kind to hit a woman (and if he did I should ask what it was that you did to him that forced him to) but he does seem to get in a lot of quarrels with bands members, which leads to a lot of unsustainable projects. If he can’t stay with a band for an extended period of time what makes you think you have the power to keep him?

Next Week: I continue to provide evidence to contradict the fact that I’m not gay.

Tagged: hardcorepunkExtreme Metal Hunks

29th September 2009

Photo with 12 notes

Extreme Metal Hunks

Troy Sanders (Mastodon, Social Infestation, Puaka Balava, Four Hour Fogger, Knuckle)

Hot Because: Beard. Not just any run of the mill beardo beards you see guys with rapist glasses wearing nowadays, this beard is rich with metal heritage spiced with the perfect blend of mountain-man shag and high-seas sailor madness. His vocals are also hunk worthy as they carry more character than the average modern American metal band has. His vocals carry a range from husky growl to surprisingly lovely (but still MANLY) cleaner tones.

He also has a good family relationship (for those into that) as his brothers Kyle and Darren are both involved in music. Kyle being the bassist for Bloodsimple, and Darren is Troy’s own bass tech and roadie for Mastodon.

Plus Crack the Skye was pretty boner inducing, in and of itself.

Ideal Date: Because you’re boring and can’t come up with good ideas you suggest sailing. The option is quickly shot down, instead the two of you go MOUNTAIN CLIMBING! However the scale of the actual “climb” will depend on you own physical ability/willingness, so it will vary from a multiple day journey  that involves supplies and possibly a couple of Sherpas OR it could be a pleasant hike that takes up the afternoon. Either way, that aspect isn’t important.

As the two of you journey together discussing things such as anthropology and the latest Bruce Willis film, Surrogates - which you both agree did the job it set out to do and was enjoyable despite any complaints about the trailer giving away most of the film’s plot - you happen upon a small quarry. Something isn’t right though: this quarry contains tropical flora when you’re in a temperate zone. Sun rays bleed out from the clouds to highlight the majestic palm trees and series of awe-inspiring orchids. In the center there is a small man, sitting with his eyes closed. As you approach the closer you get to him the smaller he seems to become and how extreme his features appear. Small, modest ears give way to sharp, pointed ears. Where there was a clean shaven chin there is now a beard that reaches the man’s feet, which seems to be not that great of a feat since he is a hair under 4 feet. Halfing? Or is it Gnome? Is that what they’re called?

“He is a gnome,” Troy says to you, as though he read your mind.

The Gnome opens his eyes and looks to Troy, “What is the meaning of life?”

Troy rebuts, “I do not accept your question. The answer to life is not found within open questions or meditation but through the practice and experience of life itself. The meaning of life should not be the Philosopher’s stone that many believe it is to be when in actuality it is more the Apple of Eden. To search out such answers is to be temped by the evils that waste life.”

“Hmmm? Ok…” says the Gnome. Troy then boots it in the face - blood pours from his hairline and ears as he lays on the ground in agony, knowing that his life was one that was wasted. You and Troy ignore this as the two of you straight up get it on in this little Oasis in the Mountains.

Deal Breaker: Considering how close his is to his band and how often he tours you might be in constant competition with a a bunch of heavily tattooed and evidently overfed (i.e. chubby) dudes. This isn’t too bad depending on how badly you love your man to have an epic beard. In such a case you’d be able to take them on no sweat. They maybe talented musicians, but you have a vagina. Use that to your advantage.

Tagged: Extreme Metal HunksMastodonmetal

22nd September 2009

Photo with 3 notes

Fuckit! It’s the end of the semester for my school which means it’s project time for me at school. I’m a bit behind on all my writing right now: I need to finish my overdue piece on Tesla and start a review of Jennifer’s Body for a paper that feels obligated to publish me for fear that I’ll make a scene at their pitch meetings and I have an essay on Motown still due for my Business class. I have only bits and pieces laying around for this week’s Extreme Metal Hunk and no time to properly piece them together. In fact I’ve been so busy lately that I can’t even post regularly (which is why my tumblarity is back down to two digits). For those who care (thanks, the 4 of you who do) I’ll come back to doing EMH next week. I just don’t have the time right now. I didn’t even have the time to find the right font for the lolcats joke!

I’ve been doing this a lot lately but then again I’m also running out of potential hunks so this is a good way of thinning out my material. So, in another sense, yes, I am doing this because I am a lazy jerk who can’t manage his time properly.

Tagged: Extreme Metal Hunks