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Please Ask Kid Rock About Twitter and Record His Response

July 31, 2009

“It’s gay. If one more person asks me if I have a Twitter, I’m going to tell them, ‘Twitter this [bleep], mother[bleep]er,’ ” the shaggy-haired rocker tells Rolling Stone. “I don’t have anything to say, and what I have to say is not that relevant. Anything that is relevant, I’m going to bottle it up and then squeeze it onto a record somewhere.”

So Kid Rock is not a fan of Twitter.  There are so many wonderful/terrible things about this utterance, I don’t know where to begin.

First, only sexually dimorphous organisms can be gay, not websites.  (OK, maybe this one.)  His early 1990s hyper-masculine tracks like “Yo-Da-Lin in the Valley”, “Wax the Booty”, “Fuck You Blind”, “Balls In Your Mouth”, and “Blow Me” prove that Kid Rock is totally not gay!  Only a huge gaywad would think that’s gay!

Second, Kid admits that, if asked if he has a Twitter, he will avoid the question and respond with a vitriolic stream of curse words.  He may think that you are questioning the existence of his “gear”.

Third, I am reminded just how funny it is to see curse words censored in print.  It leaves so much to the imagination—I assume that Mr. Rock said, “Twitter this shit, motherfucker,” and not the actual word “bleep”, but I just don’t know!  Now I want to experiment with all sorts of foreign and exotic curse words.

Fourth, he displays perfectly the stages of fading rock-stardom:

  1. Misunderstand the popular social media of the day.  Insult it without knowing the correct jargon or even what the hell it is.
  2. Slip up and say you have nothing to say.
  3. Well, nothing relevant to say.
  4. Realize this is a dumb thing for a musician to admit.  Take a call from the execs at your record label who suggest you walk back this statement or your TBA album this year might really be TBA, meaning no more pressurized Stroh’s beer hoses or cocaine inhalers.
  5. Save face by wearing a stained white t-shirt that reads something offensive to white middle-class churchgoers, but that is pretty safe otherwise.  Get in a fight at a bar, strip club, or Waffle House to show you are an American Bad Ass.  Get/give herpes or Hep C to prove you just don’t give a [bleep].
  6. “Squeeze” any relevant stuff you do have to say (see #3) out onto your new record like old, thick ketchup from a sticky red plastic bottle at an Arby’s from 1985.  Play tracks off this album and suck at the Super Bowl halftime show.
  7. Have sex with Pam Anderson (see #5).

@KidRock: Kudos for figuring out you don’t have anything to say that Hank Williams Jr. didn’t say first.  I just wish you would have realized that before churning out 11 records.

  1. Jay St. Orts permalink
    July 31, 2009 4:23 pm

    I have nothing to say but “Fuckin’ A.”

  2. July 31, 2009 11:30 pm

    Shocking that this magnificent thinker won’t be writing his brilliant observations in twitter. His magnificent literary contributions are instead published on bathroom stalls.

  3. Tim permalink
    August 1, 2009 9:29 pm

    “There’s only two types of men
    Pimps and John’s
    There’s one type of bitch
    And that’s a hoe
    God damn holly hooker this is my world
    God damn time to go
    Where’s my dough
    It’s startin to snow
    All I want is the dollas
    I’ve been a pimp so long I knew gahndi when he had an afro”

    I had to post the above sampling of Kid Rock’s lyrics, because I knew I had an audience here who appreciated such brilliance and subtlety in their music.

  4. Ric Hardshorts permalink
    December 17, 2009 3:02 pm

    Giving or receiving herpes or hep c has gotta be in the top 5 of the “I dont give a fuck” behaviors.

  5. October 17, 2011 2:01 pm

    I think that the “that’s so gay” idiom in American culture is something that should be erased from our collective vocabulary. This example by Kid Rock is just another case of cultural insensitivity. I have lots of close friends who are gay, and think the world should be more tolerant. Gay Pride all the way! If you agree with me, visit this gay pride store.

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