Yes, I know they are a ways away, but I just figured I'd let you know.  See, this way you won't send me an email the day after and say "hey when are you guys playing in blah blah blah?"  So there you go.  Trying to get some other dates together, too, so hang in there.
 
So much like everyone else, I already screwed up my New Years resolution.  Oh well.
 
A lot of this political debate these days reminds me of a line from Archie Bunker.  Loosely quoted, the now ginormous Sally Struthers says "Daddy, thousands of people are killed by guns every year!"  to which Archie says "Would it make you feel better if they was pushed outta windows?"  Who woulda thought that after all these years, Norman Lear's comic genius would still be relevant?  Seriously, Sally Struthers is huge ...
 
Lots of snow lately, huh?  Hey, here's an idea, especially for all you ladies with the SUVs and the minivans - CLEAN THE F@CKING SNOW OFF OF YOUR CAR.  Please and thank you.
 
What else ... I guess that's it.  There's really nothing else going on in the world of Clutch Grabwell.  All is well!
 
See ya,
JC
 
 
 

Whoa!  That's right, this Saturday night we will be playing at the Beachcomber on beautiful Wollaston Beach in Quincy, MA.  Is there another band playing with us?  Couldn't tell you, pal.  I can tell you that it doesn't matter either way, because we will be there ready to rip it up ... so I gave you plenty of advanced notice, so get your act together and meet us at the Beachcomber (formerly known as Nostalgia, formerly known as the Beachcomber) on Saturday night.
 
Not a lot to report.  The boys are getting together tonight to play some tunes and drink some beers - basically a warmup for the show.  "Gonna have a good time," to quote Doyle Bramhall II ...
 
Wait - there is something to report!  For those of you that remember, and especially for those who don't remember, The Big Picture is being rerun over at gocomics.com.  Holy smokes!  Check out the one from January 9, 2013.  I got A LOT of crap for that one ... seriously, emails from fat broads all over the US telling me that there was a reason I would die alone and that nobody likes me, blah blah blah.  Awesome - obviously they don't know me and realize that any of those so-called curses would be wasted on me.  I would be completely content to just chill by myself.  Anyway, Lennie always found a way to push some buttons in The Big Picture, and I fahking loved it!  Check it out!!!
 
As for the news about Lance Armstrong, it's a great feeling to say "I told you so."  I've been calling that one-balled doosh out for almost 10 years people.  Is it because I care about the sanctity of bicycle racing or any other sport?  Nope.  You wanna juice and blow up to 400 pounds and hit/throw a ball 1000 feet?  Fine by me, don't care.  What I have an issue with is the legions of middle-aged men on $4000 bicycles pedaling around our roads in their skin-tight outfits thinking to themselves "man, if Lance can ride his bike for a million miles and get to start tagging broads like early 2000s era Cheryl Crow, so can I!"  And who hasn't had to drive 15 mph behind a group of 4 or more of them riding next to each other talking about their big M&A targets or little Johnny's college fund - hey dooshbag!  It's 8AM on a Saturday morning, I'm trying to get to work, and I just might still be a little drunk, so howsabout keeping it to the right?  Seriously, men on bicycles as a concept just annoys the shit out of me.  Let's be honest - bicycles are useful, and possibly even "cool" for a few years between the ages of 5 and 16.  After that, you get a driver's license.  Am I right?  If you're still riding your bicycle around after that, you fall into one of three categories:
 
- Multiple DUI offender
- Middle-aged dude who thinks the clothes will make him more attractive to the ladies
- A fatty who thinks a 1 mile ride around the block is a better weight loss plan instead of putting down the fork
 
Listen, I am beyond question on this, and everyone knows it.
 
OK, that's all I have to gripe about now.  Well, not really but I should probably get back to work for this faceless, soul-sucking international conglomerate of misery.  Good times?
 
See ya Saturday,
Basshole
 
 

Happy 2013, people.  Yeah, it's been awhile, but you'll be happy to know:
 
- Resolution Number 1: update the website much more often than I do now.  I have allowed the presence of social media to turn me into a lethargic website owner.  Why add content when you guys can do it yourself?  Unfortunately, there's only so many pictures of people's kids, monkeys in coats and "caption this" posts that I can stand ... there are more important things to discuss.  Exactly what they are remains to be seen.  For example, I endeavor to keep this website as "politic-free" as possible, because to be honest, most people are nitwits and get blinded by red herrings like "women's rights" rather than focusing on the real issues, like entitlements and unfunded pension liabilities.  But I digress ... those things are boring, anyway.  I want this to be a place of a simple, one-sided exchange of ideas and opinions.  Specifically, my ideas and opinions to you, the reader.  You can exchange your ideas on Facebook and the like, where I can read or ignore as I see fit.  Sounds a bit totalitarian, I know, but really, it's for the best.  You don't want to think or provide for yourself, you know you want Clutch Grabwell to do that for you.  We accept the invitation and will strive to do our best to provide for you.
 
As you can see in the header, yes, we have a show coming up on January 19th at the venerable Beachcomber in beautiful Quincy, Massachusetts.  This leads to:
 
- Resolution Number 2: continue to ignore people who email and post to say things like "hey guys, go get a show together at Chlymidia's Bar & Grill" or "hey guys, go get the opening slot on the Foo Fighters tour," usually followed by "that would be great!"  Indeed, that may be great, but so would be getting a 1987 GNX or a fully restored 1969 Chevelle SS - neither of these things are going to happen, though.  For those who have never been in a band, please understand that one doesn't just call the House of Blues and say "hey, I want a show there."  Much like walking up to a young lady you don't know and saying "hey, howsabout you and me go make out?" doesn't work ... although it did work once for a friend of mine ... again I digress ... so, yeah, we want to play as much as we can and will continue to do so whenever we can, OK?
 
Oh, as a sidenote, Showcase Live in Foxboro is not having bands anymore, leaving a large hole in the touring schedules for Boyz II Men, Lynch Mob and Sebastian Bach.  Seriously, what did they think was going to happen?
 
OK, I'm not going to crap on clubs, although I challenge you to look up the listings at a few of the "big clubs" and tell me who any of the bands playing there are ... one of them looks frozen in the 90s with the likes of Marilyn Manson and Reel Big Fish, another I don't recognize a single name ... I guess I'm not hip to the scene anymore, man ...
 
All right, now I'm getting b#tchy, so that has to stop.  We are fired up for yet another year, and another show at the Beachcomber, a place near and dear to my heart ... I've told you the stories, so I won't repeat them, but make you arrangements now, people.  As long as the drummer doesn't break another snare head and derail the first set after 4 songs, it's gonna be a good time!  You have more than two weeks so I don't want to hear any excuses about the kids, or work, or whatever lame reasons you have - let's do this!  Drink beer, play some rock, chase some women - whatever it takes!
 
Again, Happy New Year from Clutch Grabwell Industries and all of our affiliated partners.  You guys are the best and I hope this is a great year for all of you!  I know it will be for us!
 
 
 
 

Well, well, well ... GREAT time at the Lucky Dog!  Thank you to everyone who came out - lots of familiar faces that it was great to see!  Check out that Facebook thing for some pics but the always awesome Jolene ...
 
 
Whoa ... so here it is ... we will be at the Chicken Bone in Framingham on the Night Before Thanksgiving ... will the Fresh Meat Butcher be there?  No sure what his schedule looks like yet, but the NBT is the new NYE, you know what I'm saying?  Nobody goes out on New Year's Eve anymore ... too cold, too expensive ... who wants to pay $100 for a sh#tty buffet and crappy champagne while listening to some douchey wedding band play your favorite songs of the 80s, 90s and today, then have to dodge all the State Troopers on the way home (ALONE, I might add)?  Screw that, you can just stay home and drink by yourself ... that's what I do.  Another year down the drain ...
 
BUT ...
 
NBT is FULL of reasons you have to go out.  For the twenty-to-thirty crowd, it's high school reunion night - time to catch up with the people you didn't really like when you were locked in a building with them for four years, but hey, might as well see how they're turning out right?  You know, Jimmy's getting fat, Billy's still fat, Sally is still a tramp, but she's getting fat, too ... Seriously, this I do not get.  You wanna know how many people I went to high school with that I still talk to?  None.  You know why?  Because I went to a private high school in Dorchester that has singlehandedly produced some of the biggest dooshbags to walk the earth, me included.  Not that I'm hung up on the rations of sh#t that I got from the teachers there, I just prefer to leave it all behind me.  No use in going back there and talking about the good ole days of almost getting expelled two months before graduation, or hearing about the legions of disappointed girls my male classmates left along the South Shore (a veritable Trail of Tears along the Irish Riviera).  And what's with going to the high school football game?  The only reason I ever went to any of those was because I was in the band - yeah, you heard right, I was in the high school band, go ahead and say it ... are you finished? ... anyways, I went to the "big game" once after I graduated and the students were still d#cks and the teachers were the same, and I got busted for drinking Keystone Lights in the stands.  Ugh, enough.
 
For everyone else, it's time to prime it up before you have to head to your parents or the in-laws.  My sympathies to you all.  I know I say it every year, but I look forward to the time with my family so I can be reminded of past indiscretions, failures and bitter disappointments of my life thus far.  Good times.  I know I'm not alone, so that's why you gotta come out and rip it up with us!  Get some good karma flowing before your day of turkey legs, mashed potatoes and general sh#t-talk at the dinner table.  You know you're gonna need to start off strong if you're going to tolerate the pain, so do it right!
 
Yeah, and I know it's Framingham, but it really isn't that far away from Hingham and Cohasset.  So, all you late thirties broads can put your 75 year old husband Thurston to bed early, have the nanny but Madison and Mackenzie to bed, hop into the BMW/Benz/Lexus, and come out and have a good time like you used to, before you got yourself trapped in your sham of a life.  Yeah, you and Thurston have so much in common, beside his checkbook, right?  Sure, you were in high school and he was on his second marriage to the Thai hooker he fell in love with while he was ex-pat for JP Morgan, but that doesn't mean you're not in love, right?  I mean, the kids he had with Pho Dong are only a few years older than you!  Downright creepy.  And you broads in Wayland, Weston, Dover and Sherborn, you're right there, too, so make your arrangements for the sitter, nurse, home healthcare aid or whatever, and get down to the Chicken Bone.
 
Done.
 
 

Check.  It.  Out.  This Saturday night, people.  Just after one hurricane is history, Clutch Grabwell will rock you like the proverbial hurricane at Erick’s House of Debauchery, also known as the Nightmare on Green Street, AKA the Lucky Dog.  Oh, that silly Klaus Meine with his hacked English language skills.  Winds of Change, indeed, my balding German metal friend.
 
Honestly, I don’t know if I can say it better than this:
 
 
 
Wow.  Pretty sweet.
 
There are a lot of things I question in life.  Like, why do I go into CVS to pick up some Brylcreem (A Dab’ll Do Ya) and always end up behind some chick dropping $100 on shampoo and bags of candy (Halloween or not)?  Seriously, how can chicks spend so much money at CVS?  What do you guys do with all that crap?
 
Why do people with Rhode Island license plates drive so damn slow on 128 and 95?  What are they doing on 128 anyways?  Dude, if you have to find a job 100 miles away from where you live, at least get on the gas and get there.   No wonder you’re unemployed.
 
Well, whatever.  I still have power, at least at WORK WHERE I AM UNLIKE EVERYONE ELSE I KNOW.  Here’s something to think about – are you really “non-essential personnel?”  Yeah, might want to rethink that … or actually, I’m the jerk, because everyone else is at home getting paid while I’m listening to the wind blow through the office park.
 
Alright, enough of my depression.  Let’s get fired up for Saturday night!!!