Mailmanbro Walk with Me
Pssst. Hey you. You wanna see some metal merch? Come over here. Hop on in my creepy-ass van. I got more metal merch in here than your dad keeps hidden in that shoebox under the basement stairs. I got metal merch that would make your mom’s hair turn white. Trust me, kid, you’ve never seeeeeeeeen metal merch like the shit I got in here. And you can look for free.
I’m going to begin this month’s Mailmanbro Extravaganza with a short personal essay. In case you haven’t already skipped ahead in order to beat off all over the photos below, I urge you to do so now.
Still here? Suit yourself. I have writer’s block, people. It took me nearly an hour to think of something to say by way of intro to this article. And since all I was able to do in that hour was obsess over how little I had to say, this is what you get: a miniature rant about the pain of writer’s block. I do not get it very often. Maybe once every few years if I’m lucky. When I do, it is likely to trigger the sort of paralyzing depression that can only be quashed by spending a full day drinking High Life and watching Neil deGrasse Tyson videos on Youtube. Only Neil’s crystal clear arguments for the value of Science can lend this puny life the sheen of purpose. Only watching Neil crush anti-intellectualism and pure idiocy with the twin hammers of Knowledge and Logic can distract me from the agonizing emptiness which has profaned the creative and linguistic centers in my brain. So I dedicate this month’s Mailmanbro exhibit to Neil. And to High Life, the Sean Penn of beers.
First on the docket, LEIF BEARIKSON kept it classy and also deathy as fuck with LPs from Stargazer and Venenum. (Proven Toilet faves.)
Power-commenter HANS FAKELASTNAME keeps it concise with mixed merch from Insect Warfare, Riot and Conan. (You can’t really see it but there are a bunch of Queen albums tucked behind that Riot one. Thank you, Hans, for sparing me the burden of editing them out.)
KARHU, god of all things bearlike and curmudgeonly, bought a whole bunch of shit with his mom’s credit card while blackout drunk. Here it is. Highlights include Azaghal, Fin, Impaled Nazarene, The Man-Eating Tree, Fin again, Blind Guardian for some reason, Impaled Nazarene again. Oh, and the edgiest, most satanic trash can ever to blight the corrupt face of this Earth.
Our cold-blooded editor LACERTILIAN started the month out right with a tiny-yet-tasty haul containing Obliteration on vinyl and nothing else. Then things took a swift and inexplicable nosedive for the worse. What is going on in that second haul? I don’t know what happened; I don’t know where it all went wrong. I only know that we need to get him help. Perhaps an intervention of some kind? Are flights to Australia cheap this time of year?
Nextly, ELEGANT GAZING GLOBE continues to put money in the pockets of aging metal dudes and total fucking nerds. His gargantuan haul begins with a whole bunch of sexy Fates Warning merch. Then things get a bit rocky with some kind of limited edition Eternal Champion box set (I could have rotated the picture but I think it looks better lying down). The course begins to correct itself with LPs from Iron Maiden and Dokken which I presume are backup copies of records he already owns. He finishes strong with Toilet friends Slugdge and an OG pressing of the only Metallica record worth anyone’s money.
Moving on, we come to the Recordstorebro haul from the Toilet’s resident noisenik, EDWARD. No noise this time around, though. Just the smooth, silky sounds of Today is the Day, Oxbow, Acid Bath and, uh…never mind.
Let us forget about the complete life failure in that last photo by turning our attention to the esoteric haul of the elusive JAY RIEMENSCHEIDER (or whatever the fuck his Disqus handle is today). Mailmanbro brought CDs by Samo (that totally does not say Samoo), The Great Deceiver, Swans (Schwaaaaaaaaanzzzzzzze) and a shirt by that band Emptiness he’ll probably never shut up about.
Check out this haul bequeathed unto newcomer JEFF [REDACTED]. CDs from Ayeron and Amon Amarth and an LP by some obscure entity called Bolt Thrower which definitely does not get enough love ’round these parts. Also some cassettes which appear to have been blurred by the profundity of their obsolescence.
Nearly last, not nearly least, PAGLIACCI received some lesser known Sabbath n’ Shit. Followed by some sexy-ass shirts from Neurot Recordings, including Neurosis, Harvestman and tiny square shirt that looks like it might fit a chihuahua I guess?
Mailmanbro continued to heap records and patches upon our resident filth-worshipper, SWEETOOTH0 (did I spell it right this time?). Look upon this haul and then go take a shower. LPs from Body Count, Ahna, Gorgoroth and…uh…Delphaed? Patches from Dopethrone, Wodos and Anal Cunt. Poetry by GG Allen.
Who’s next? Me. I am next. Mailmanbro brought me these shirts from Xasthur, Leviathan and Gnaw Their Tongues. I don’t even like any of these bands. I just use the shirts to keep strangers from talking to me. Works like a fucking charm.
That’s it for this month. If your haul is not pictured here it is because you did not send it. Also, if your haul is not pictured here then it is FALSE. Also also, if you sent more than four photos, some of them were dropped. Why? Because I’d rather be binge-watching Neil deGrasse Tyson videos. Toodles.
(Header image VIA)