Hello and welcome to
another exciting installment the first installment of Last Rites Presents: Ask 2 Idiots!
As you may have guessed from the title, we are two idiots. In ancient times, the “village idiot” was a well respected figure that played an important role not only in day-to-day life, but also in Victorian and Elizabethan literature, particularly on the stage. The idiots often knew secrets that the audience and cast didn’t. That makes the idiot an overlooked, but often very important person. No, we’re not that old, and we’re not those guys, but we are, nonetheless, idiots who are proud of our idiot lineage!
You might ask, “Why would two idiots be sitting around on the internet fielding questions in such an impressive manner, and what, pray tell, qualifies them to do so in the first place?” Unfortunately, that wasn’t one of the approved questions to be fielded by our two experts in our inaugural episode, so we don’t have to answer. Suffice to say, we (Manny-O-War & Captain) are handsome and intelligent idiots who are deserving of accolades because we have agreed to take time away from our busy red-carpet-gracing schedules to field your mildly interesting questions. Not all your questions, mind you—we’re idiots, not superhuman. We’ll pick the three most compelling Qs and give you hails for shooting them our way, and we’ll do it once a month from this day forward until the end of fucking time.
As far as what sorts of questions we’d like to see, it’s pretty much open season. We’ll give life advice, opinions on virtually anything, homework answers, and terrifying and/or sexy predictions for the future. The sky is pretty much the limit. Just don’t ask us to be your date to the prom, because we’ll probably be washing our hair or volunteering down at the soup kitchen. HEROES.
So, let’s get to it!
This month we have questions from an exciting array of hand-selected geniuses that are living their lives at a current 9/10 (save one) but want to up that to a 10/10. (Don’t even think about raising your game to our current 18/10 level because it’s impossible for you.)
First up, we have Mike Hill of Tombs, Vasilek and the decent podcast Everything Went Black. We urge you to check out his various musical projects and his podcast because, as I just fucking said, he’s living his life at 90% efficiency and awesomeness. Mike asks two burning questions:
Mike: What would you do if your significant other (male or female) said they want to have an “open relationship?”
Manny-O-War: This question is simple. First off, I would never be in a relationship that wasn’t open. Second, I would make sure that the male and/or female I’m in the relationship with is psyched to bring a bunch of strangers into our bedrooms. I’d include food, preferably buffalo wings and blue cheese dressing, and then I would toss on a pair of flippers and dive in.
Recommended listening: “Just A Mannilo”
Captain: I’d probably sneak into Toronto with said significant other. Pretty sure that’s the law on this side of the country. I don’t believe you’re allowed to live in Toronto unless you’re in an open relationship or hope to be in an open relationship. I think it says “Close the Borders from the U.S./Open the Relationships” on the license plates up there now.
Recommended listening: “Very Open Secrets”
Mike: What would you do if a really hot chick mistakes you for someone famous?
Manny-O-War: First, Mike, I doubt you have that problem. But, as I’m totally awesome this actually happens to me all the time. I’m constantly mistaken for a Jake Gyllenhaal or Ryan Eggold or Jude Law (before his hair receded). If this ever happens to you, say someone mistakes you for Hillary Swank or Danny DeVito, you just act cool, sign whatever they want you to sign and then make sure you get their bank account and routing number. You tell them to meet you in a hotel suite (use whatever is close and convenient). Promise that you’ll make them a star, then abscond with their bank information and wire that money into your account as you take a trip to Monaco where you can start a career as a Formula 1 race car driver.
Recommended listening: “Live Fast, Die in a Car Wreck”
Captain: Several hundred years ago, two girls invited me and a couple friends into a party because they mistook us for members of Testament. I really didn’t understand what the hell was going on because 1) they didn’t really seem like Testament fans, and 2) I had long blonde hair at the time, and everyone knows that Testament didn’t allow blondes in the band back in the late 80s. I have to say, it was pretty exhilarating being introduced to a room of strangers with “Hey everyone, these guys are in a band called Testament that’s playing the Empire tomorrow night,” and then having literally everyone else wonder who the hell Testament is. Anyway, we decided to roll with it, but we eventually snuck out through the back door because someone booted in the laundry room after trying to bong half a pitcher of Hairy Buffalo.
I also used to get Crispin Glover comparisons a fair bit back in the day, which is super if you don’t mind being compared to a guy who clearly makes most people uncomfortable when he’s around. When that happened, I think I mostly just did my best Layne/River’s Edge impression, which wasn’t really a huge stretch.
More recently, someone told me that I look like an old shoe.
If someone tells you that they think you look like someone famous, you should probably tell them that they look like Paul Dano after getting beaten to death by Daniel Day-Lewis.
Recommended listening: “What do YOU know about FECK”
Next up we have Jaci Raia. Jaci is a graphic designer who specializes in book layouts and zines that teach you how to get paid. She’s a bit of a lifestyle coach in that way. She was even once featured on Mike Hill’s aforementioned podcast. Jaci has a question that is gnawing away at everyone’s consciousness lately. She asks:
Jaci: What do you think about holographic performances? Fucking horrible? Fucking awesome? Why?
Manny-O-War: Well, Jaci, I’m glad you asked such a pertinent question. You might be referring to the recent Ronnie James Dio concerts that featured his hologram. Or, you might be referring to a Beatles show you saw in Vegas. Regardless, the answer is always the same, holograms, as art, are unacceptable. But, let’s talk about some ways in which holograms are acceptable. First, holograms are acceptable in war. Now, a hologram might not do much damage but it sure beats getting shot. I’ve proposed that America send a hologram army to North Korea. I think this might scare their leader and his impeccable English vocabulary into surrender. If you recall Lord of the Rings, you might understand how powerful a ghost army can be. Second, parental communication. Parents are insane. All of them. That’s just a well known fact. So, why not send a hologram of yourself to spend the weekend with them? Finally, a hologram is acceptable when you’re getting arrested. You’ll sure get a laugh out of trying to watch the boys in blue try to cuff a hologram!
Recommended listening: “One Night in North Korea”
Captain: Hologram performances are 100% horrid, and people who pay money to witness them are dumber than Tommy Lee the morning after he huffs an entire cabinet of aerosols. The only case where it’s acceptable is if you send a hologram of yourself to see the performance, and that performance includes a believable facsimile of Dio wearing Mithril and brandishing a trident against a 20-foot spider in a dark crypt that’s set to the tune of “Evil Eyes.” Then you could wait for your hologram to come home and be all “Oh, hello. No, I was just up reading this book. So, how was the show? Wait…is that alcoholohol I smell on your breath? Did you ride your gryphon home after drinking at the show all night?! HOW CAN YOU BE THAT IRRESPONSIBLE? You know you have to work for me tomorrow!” Then you’ll guilt your hologram mercilessly for the next few months until it feels as though it has no choice but to move out and try to make it on its own. Then, in terribly dramatic fashion, you and your hologram will eventually make amends when you’re on your shitty deathbed. “I’m so sorry, holo-me. You were created in my imagine and I feel terribly about driving a rift between us all these years. I want you to know that I’ve always been very prou…” *beeeeeeeeeeeep* *excessively holographic holo-weeping*
Recommended listening: “This is Your Holo-life”
Finally, we close out with our dear friend Shannon Void. Unlike the aforementioned people who are living at brisk 9/10, Shannon often fails to reach 6/10 in her personal life. Fortunately, she runs Perfect World Productions where she’s a solid 9/10 PR rep with a sense of humor that would make your grandfather choke to death on his dentures (if he’s still alive).
Shannon: What do you do with 14″ Riffs?
Manny-O-War: Riffs are great. I’ve often advocated that a riff run for president. I don’t know which riff, or what that riff’s policy ideas would be, but I would absolutely support a riff before I support an insane dotard. We must unpack your question though. You clearly referred to “inches” which severely limits the countries in which these riffs can unleash their fury. Obviously, inches are relevant in America. It helps men understand how ineffectual and inadequate their genitals are. The metric system is also scorned in Myanmar (Burma) in which there is an actual genocide occurring. So, you don’t want to take your riffs there. Unless those riffs are in the form of humanitarian relief aka “relief riffs.” Finally, Liberia also shits all over the metric system. That’s a fine place to unleash the hell and fury of a fat riff. The main point is, use an adjective that is broad to define a riff, rather than a measurement. Some suggestions: fat, thick, burning, ripping, girthy, broad, chunky, squat, pudgy, stocky, obese, burly, massive, blubbery, substantial, badonkadonk, elephantine, distended, bulging, swole, weighty, stout, plump, porcine, corpulent, corpuscular, gargantuan and many, many more.
Recommended listening: “Summoning Courage to Pull Your Pants Down”
Captain: Great question. What needs to be addressed right off the bat is whether or not 14 inches of riffs represents a lot of riffs. 14 inches of snow is a pretty big deal. 14 inches of shit is a REALLY big deal. 14 inches of blood would probably make 3 Inches of Blood feel very self conscious. But just how many inches of riffs does a record like Effigy of the Forgotten have? 72 inches? 72 FUCKING TONS OF INCHES?
Ultimately, I think I’d like to make 14 inches of riffs look a little nice. Perhaps hang a nice picture of a boat on the water somewhere on the riffs. Place a tempting accent candle in the corner of the riffs—one of those big vanilla candles that ballbags always bring as a housewarming gift. Vanilla scented things always seem to make people more happy. If you just got fired from your job for getting BBQ chicken sauce inside the primary server, light a vanilla candle when you get home and wrap yourself in 14 inches of riffs and just let your worries melt away. 14 inches of vanilla-scented riffs will remind you of that long weekend you spent up at the lake when all the leaves were turning beautiful colors. And look over there—it’s a goddamn boat. Vanilla is a bangable scent, too. Can you make love to 14 inches of riffs? Or do 14 inches of riffs make love to you? Maybe that’s the question we should be asking.
Recommended listening: “Infecting the Riffs (with Vanilla)”
Interested in submitting a question? Hit us up on Twitter using the hashtag #Ask2Idiots. Or you can shoot an email to contactlastrites at gee mail. We will make our selections using a sophisticated algorithm developed specifically for this feature that balances all the really important and cool factors that make great questions irresistible, so make it count. THANK YOU AND YOU’RE WELCOME.