Mikey on YouTube Mikey's Facebook Group Follow Mikey on Twitter See where Mikey's gonna be... Visit Mikey's Website

Impotent Nerd Rage

by Mikey Mason

supported by
/
  • Immediate download of 12-track album in the high-quality format of your choice (MP3, FLAC, and more), plus unlimited mobile access using the free Bandcamp listening app.

     $10 USD  or more

     

  • Buy Disc

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
05:04
8.
9.
10.

about

DEDICATION
This one was for Tran, my first character, back when Elf was still a class, and to Neal, for introducing us.

Impotent Nerd Rage owes its existence to the many people who supported it, but these people in particular ponied up cash to have their names put in the credits (hey... I’m a word whore, and these were my Johns...): Tresi Arvizo, Sgt. Daniel W. Krenzke, USMC, Stacey Rigger, Arlie and Tricia Land, Felix Viator (Kevin Nolastname,) Les Howard (from the illustrious Signal Podcast,) Jason (Fougerhousen) Fougerousse, Sean Smith & Angela Gick (both of whom would’ve probably ended up in the credits, anyway,) The Fear The Boot crew (Dan, Chad, Pat, Wayne, & Chris,) Tim Golaszewski, and David & Jennifer Gray.
Oh, and ANTHONY MARKEL (because I really do still love you. Mad man crush, bro.)

Thank you to everyone who supported this album (and especially the Fear The Boot community who convinced me it was both a good idea and genuinely possible.)
Thank you to Jody for laughing with me (most of the time) and for being what it said on my silver yoyo.
Thanks to my brother, Neal, for bringing the Red Box home and initiating me in my geekhood.
And thank you to my sons for their constant inspiration and tolerance of my prolonged absences while on the road.
Thank you Ty Morton for introducing me to Firefly, and Kerry Anne Pritchard for being in the
She Don’t Like Firefly video, and to the Fickle Peach for being my favorite pub.
And thank you Spinal Tap (Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer) for teaching me that it’s possible to parody a genre without parodying a specific song, but still create credible, viable music. I hope I was able to do that on this album.


Recorded at Reber Recording in Muncie, IN. This recording is FTB 9000 compliant.
All songs Copyright © Mikey Mason, 2011.

credits

released 18 August 2011
All songs written & performed by Mikey Mason with the exception of the following bits:

Fingerless portions of the bass line on Me And Alan Moore’s Beard performed by Frank Reber.

Lead guitar solos on Too Fat To Troop, Me And Alan Moore’s Beard, My Next Girlfriend, Unicron, Strangling My Muse, and Unwed Teenage Gothling Mom To Be, as well as backing screams on Impotent Nerd Rage provided by Scott Lindell.

Kobold Horde shouts on Kobolds Ate My Baby provided by my gaming group (alphabetically by last name: Randy Davis, Benjamin Mason, Ty Morton, William Morton, & Sean Smith--ALL HAIL KING TORG!)

Screaming villagewoman on Kobolds Ate My Baby courtesy of Jody Mason.

Drums on all songs performed by Alan Smithee.

tags

license

all rights reserved

feeds

feeds for this album, this artist
Track Name: Kobolds Ate My Baby
Grab a poker, stoke the fire, get the water nice and hot.
Cut the onions, the potatoes, throw them all into the pot.
But it seems like something's missing in this bubbling vat of gravy...
From the village square a woman screams, “Kobolds Ate My Baby!”

Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!
Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!

Bar all the windows and lock all the doors, cause kobolds are hunting tonight.
They want a sweet little human treat, and a baby will do just right.
In honor of Vor, the Big Angry Red God, their ruler has declared a feast
Of succulent pastries and dainty delights, and exotic delicacies. (That means babies!)

Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!
Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!
Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!
Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!

They're short and they're hairy and so full of teeth, their mouth takes up most of their head.
Stupid and hungry, and tasty as well, most of them soon end up dead.
But quicker than tribbles or rabbits can mate, they repopulate with ease.
And so, to avoid being thrown in the pot, they gear up and hunt babies. (Catch that baby!)

Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!
Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!

Kobolds eat a bunch of different things, disgusting and delicious.
They don't care if it is fattening or cardboard or nutritious.
But they'll pass up almost anything to grab a little baby,
And the reason they like babies best is “'cause babies is so tasty!”

Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!
Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!
Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!
Kobolds ate my baby, for Torg—All Hail King Torg!
Track Name: Too Fat To Troop
“This one's for Jek...”

When I was a young boy, I only had one dream:
I wanted to carry a blaster rifle and wear white PVC.
But when the Empire came to Bestine IV, looking to recruit,
They took one look at me and cut me from the group.

They said, “Maybe you can fly real well and maybe you can shoot.
But take a look in the mirror, son. You're just too fat to troop!

Too fat too troop. You're just too fat to troop.
Maybe you can jam in Max Rebo's band or fly an interstellar sloop,
But you'll never fit in the armor son. You're just too fat, too fat to troop.”

So I became a free trader and the Empire, they returned,
and like a psycho padawan, the anger in me burned.
I was a champion pilot, known for my T-16,
And the rebels, they were happy to squeeze me into an X-Wing.

And the next thing you know, it's a run on the Death Star, “Red Six, standing by...
I've got a problem here.” “Eject!” “I can hold it.” “Pull up!” “No, I'm alright...”

Too fat to troop. I was just too fat to troop.
I'd still be around if I'd put the fork down, probably still be a virgin, too.
But I wouldn't have died a hero. I'm so glad that I was too fat to troop.

Too fat to troop. I was just too fat to troop.
Now I'm a legend of the Rogue Squadron, I've got my own action figure, too.
I might have died as Ewok fodder. Thank the Force I was too fat to troop.

I was just too fat to troop.

“You will be avenged...”
Track Name: Me And Alan Moore's Beard
I was stumbling through the darkness of an alleyway in Chinatown, where the guy showed me the mogwai that night.
And I was laughing to myself, and thinking all is well that ends well, I won't feed them after midnight next time,
When a subtle voice inside my head suggested I turn right, not left, and I wound up in a dimly lit pub.
And it was roughly ten pints later, on my back upon the floor, when I found my swimming eyes looking up...
...into Alan Moore's beard.

Alan's beard, it introduced itself as Nick and smiled a wicked smile. I was a little nervous I found.
Until it soon put me at ease, my inner fears began to cease, because it offered then to buy the next round.
He said he really liked his job, but Alan was a little too much for a beard to have to deal with, sometimes.
And he needed some time off, so when Alan wasn't looking, he sneaked off and went to find a good time.

Me and Alan Moore's beard took a walk around the universe,
Making subtle changes to the landscape as we went.
Me and Alan Moore's beard watched a midnight screening of Psycho.
We ate dinner from a dumpster, and we danced in an opium den.
Sometimes the night can get real weird, when you're with Alan Moore's beard.

The night was blurring softly 'round the edges as it went on and ol' Nick and I we got on just fine.
We made a buddy film in LA, sold some fruit out by the freeway, wrote our names across the Hollywood sign.
Nick told me Alan had awakened, and for sure he would be shaken when he found his beard had run off again.
Last time it was a test of wills, he'd sent the Hound of Baskervilles. We'd start running if we had any sense...

Me and Alan Moore's beard, we layed low in the Serengeti.
We went cloud busting in Poughkeepsie, and stuck our fingers in a dam.
Me and Alan Moore's beard took a wrong turn at Albuquerque.
We hunted swamp things in the bayou, sat in a window in Amsterdam.
Some nights the time can get real weird, when you're with Alan Moore's beard...

He showed me wonders deep inside myself, where no one else had been.
He helped recover all my happy memories and secret sins.
He showed me how I could defeat myself, repeat myself, complete myself, concrete myself, not cheat myself... He showed me how to live.

Well, our vice was out undoing as we stopped inside a Waffle House to grab ourselves a morning repast.
He sat there at the counter, looking up at us in anger. Alan Moore shot out his arm, lightning fast.
He snatched his beard up by the scruff and stuffed it back onto his face, and he was out the door without a single sound.
Around the edges of his head, ol' Nick had stretched to wave goodbye, and I stole the cashier's pen to write this down.

Me and Alan Moore's beard drew a mustache on Mona Lisa. We added letters to the alphabet, and we learned how to travel time.
Me and Alan Moore's beard laced the puritans' bread with ergot. We smoked a cheap cigar with Cheetah, and we swung from a Tarzan vine.
Me and Alan Moore's beard double-teamed a bearded lady. We had an ice cream in the Parthenon, and we turned water into wine.
Me and Alan Moore's beard held a wake for Mad Sweeney. We used a rainbow for a slip and slide, and taught the planets to align.

Sometimes life's more than it appears, when you're with Alan Moore's beard.
Track Name: My Next Girlfriend
I sold all my comic books to move out east with you.
I cancelled my WOW account and Steam subscription, too.
'Cause you hated hearing video game noise,
And you got me a real job and Ebay-ed my toys,
And my autographed pictures of Leonard Nimoy.
And then you said goodbye...

And my next girlfriend will be better than my ex-girlfriend.
She'll get all my jokes and read Penny Arcade.
She'll come to my bedroom all dressed for cosplay.
She'll want a three-way with Felicia Day.
My next girlfriend will be the best girlfriend of all...

Remember how you used to call my action figures dolls?
And slept with my jock roommates? And our neighbors, down the hall?
And how you would never drink good beer with me.
And how you had laughed at my virginity.
You took my heart and my dignity,
And then you said goodbye...

And my next girlfriend will be better than my ex-girlfriend.
She'll collect Star Wars and like geeks more than jocks.
She'll drink good beer and like bourbon on rocks.
And her vagina will be mint in box.
My next girlfriend will be the best girlfriend of all...

Yes my next girlfriend will be better than my ex-girlfriend.
I might be aiming high, but I'll settle if I have to.
My next girlfriend will be better than my ex-girlfriend.
It can't be that hard to find someone better than you...

And my next girlfriend will be better than my ex-girlfriend.
She'll get all my jokes and read Penny Arcade.
She'll come to my bedroom all dressed for cosplay.
She'll want a three-way with Felicia Day.
My next girlfriend will be the best girlfriend of all...
Track Name: Impotent Nerd Rage
I correct your spelling online. And your grammar and reasoning.
I reply to your posts with Snopes links all the time,
'Cause you don't bother fact-checking.

I don't know why you never learn. I don't know why I never win.
I should nuke this frakkin' world before the gene pool gets too thin.
You're all just lab rats out there huddled in your cage,
And I shake my fists in impotent nerd rage...

I keep a tally of your faults, just to prove my supremacy.
I validate my life by criticizing yours,
But still you nimrods just can't see...

I don't know why you never learn. I don't know why I never win.
I should just nuke this frakkin' world before the gene pool gets too thin.
You're all just lab rats out there huddled in your cage,
And I shake my fists in impotent nerd rage...

And every crap movie that you flock to in droves,
All the music that youlike and books you read (CRAP!)
A million glaring faults that papercut my mind.
Not intellectual enough for me.

I critique how you talk and think. Even how you walk, sleep, eat and breathe.
I shake my angry fists in impotent nerd rage,
'Cause you won't accept my sovereignty...

I don't know why you never learn. I don't know why I never win.
I should just nuke this frakkin' world before the gene pool gets too thin.
'Cause you're all just lab rats out there huddled in your cage,
And I shake my fist in impotent nerd rage...
I shake my fists in impotent nerd rage.
Track Name: She Don't Like Firefly
She's got a good job, she works hard for the money.
She looks like a model, like a Playboy Bunny.
She likes comic books and video games,
She even plays Warhammer 40K.

But she don't like Firefly.
That's why I had to say goodbye.
No, she don't like Firefly,
So she's gone, gone, gone.

She drinks good beer, she drives a hybrid car,
Shes hotter than her Warcraft avatar.
She's got her own dicebag for role-playing games.
She even wears steampunk lingerie...

But she don't like Firefly.
She didn't even cry when Wash died.
No, she don't like Firefly,
So she's gone, gone, gone.

For our one month anniversary
We spent a weekend naked playing Halo 3.
We had a great time laughing at zombie movies,
Til I pulled out my copy of Serenity.
She got all tense, said, “Do we have to watch this?”
I just said, “Xiao Jie! Hit the bricks!”

'Cause she don't like Firefly.
She didn't even cry when Wash died.
No, she don't like Firefly,
So she's gone, gone, gone.
No she don't like Firefly.
That's why I had to say goodbye.
No, she don't like Firefly,
So she's gone, gone, gone.
Track Name: Unicron
I've gotta say, I've seen a lot of world-destroyers in my lifetime. I've been around...
Back in Star Wars, Darth Vader had his Death Stars, though they only really shot one planet down...

There was the Galaxy Gun, and the Sun Crusher too, and the World Devastators, but they don't move me like you...

Unicron... A planet sized transformer, laying waste to all that's in your path...
Unicron... Although your name almost spells unicorn, you're a total planet-killing badass.
I don't think that I could love a world without you there to eat it, Unicron...

The X-Men had to deal with the Dark Phoenix, Fantastic Four, they fought Galactus, and Annihilus too.
In Ragnarok, Thor faced the Midgard Serpent... and the Daleks, how they plagued old Dr. Who.

And Lovecraft scared the hell out of us with Cthulu
But no matter how you say his name, he doesn't hold a candle to...

Unicron... A planet sized transformer, laying waste to all that's in your path...
Unicron... Although your name almost spells unicorn, you're a total planet-killing badass.
I don't think that I could love a world without you there to eat it, Unicron...

I remember when I first saw you there, in Transformers: The Movie,
You ate a planet that had a robot with a mustache on it (Arblus, Kranix)
Oh, how that filled my heart with glee...

Unicron... A planet sized transformer, laying waste to all that's in your path...
Unicron... Although your name almost spells unicorn, you're a total planet-killing badass.
I don't think that I could love a world without you there to eat it, Unicron...

You complete me.

You had me at hello...
Track Name: Strangling My Muse
So I'm stuck at my computer with a blank screen staring back,
And my reflection on the surface, man, I swear I heard him laugh.
'Cause there's nothing coming out between the keyboard and my brain,
And I've got a deadline looming. I'm about to go insane.

And it seems that I've done everything to shake an idea loose,
So I sit here tonight, strangling my muse.

I've watched all my favorite movies, Princess Bride, Serenity,
But my brain won't walk or crawl, and Captain Mal won't carry me.
I've tried prying my brain open with both sugar and caffeine,
And I've been up for forty hours straight, and I can't seem to sleep.

And I watched Next Generation, asked, “What would Wil Wheaton do?”
Still I sit here alone, strangling my muse...

Strangling my muse for wasting all those years writing crappy love songs
For girls who never heard them and didn't even care...
Strangling my muse for every great idea I had while I was driving,
And couldn't write it down, no pen or paper anywhere...

Now I'm wired and unsettled and I just can't seem to think,
And with desperation kicking in, I'll probably turn to drink.
So I'm off to grab my guitar and two sixers of Three Floyds.
I don't think my muse can hold out after seven Pride and Joys.

'Cause I'm up against a deadline—I've got nothing left to lose.
So I sit here tonight, drowning my muse.
I sit here, all alone, strangling my muse.
I'm stuck here, all alone, beating my muse.
I sit here, all alone, strangling my muse.
Track Name: Unwed Teenage Gothling Mom-To-Be
The moment I saw her waddling through the maternity ward doors, wearing her My Chemical Romance t-shirt, with bandages on her arms, and that baby bump, and red and purple hair, I knew the child she carried in her womb could only have been the result of long-term and careful family planning sessions...

She's an unwed, teenage, gothling mom to be.
Baby mama to a daddy that her kid will never see.
She shops at Hot Topic for baby clothes,
She's got a diaper pin stuck through her nose,
She's gonna get that baby a tattoo when it turns three.

Well, of course she's gonna wait for it to be three. To get a two year old a tattoo would be...irresponsible!

She's an emo kid about to be a mom...
She's got razor scars all up and down her arm.
She expresses her individuality
By dressing like every other goth kid she sees,
And that sense of entitlement's just part of her charm.

She said, “Mom and Dad can't tell me what I should do.”
But now they're holding her hand in the delivery room.
She fought so long, so hard (so long, so hard!)
To live free and wild,
Now she's living in their basement so they can raise her child.

She said, “Mom and Dad can't tell me what I should do.”
And now they're holding her hand in the delivery room.
She fought so long, so hard (so long, so hard!)
To live free and wild,
Now she's living in their basement so they can raise her child.

She's an unwed, teenaged, gothling, emo, angst-ridden, nose-pierced, tattooed mom-to-be.
Track Name: Yo Brain Turns Me On
As we lie here, baby, covered in nothing but sheets and sweat,
I think the time's appropriate, yes I do,
For some talking to, while I'm doing you, I wanna hear your point of view
On abortion, legislation, politicians, and religion.

Ooohhh... Yo brain turns me on.

Now roll over girl, I want some of that
“Ask not what your country can do for you”
Sort of rhetoric, as I pull out my dictionary.

Ooohhh... Yo brain turns me on.

I wanna give your verb some conjugation (yes, I do!)
Study some interspatial relations.
Maybe hit some geometry, between you and me, baby just wait and see...
It's length times width times pi times the radius squared. (That's girth.)

Ooohhh... Yo brain turns me on.

So maybe we don't agree on every decision,
Maybe we could talk about it, change my position.
Yeah, we could compromise, 'stead of fantasize, til we both see eye to eye.
(Just roll over again, girl...)

Ooohhh... Yo brain turns me on.

I remember when I saw you at the library, and the librarian asked you if you were Team Edward, or if you were Team Jacob, and you looked her in the eye and said you are Team Stephanie Meyer Is A Blight On Literary Society Who Will Burn In The Lowest Pits Of Hell For Using Her Abominable Fiction To Make Pop Culture Abortions Out Of My Favorite Mythological Beings, and I said I knew then, baby, I knew then, I've got to have you. I've got to have you! Say it with me now...

Ooohhh... Yo brain turns me on.

Talk to me now, I need a little verbal lubrication
To grease the gears of this conversation.
Cause the reality, is that it's killing me, and your ideas arouse me (yes, they do...)

Ooohhh... Yo brain turns me on.
Talk to me in circles, girl. Baby circles. Baby, baby circles.
Post hoc, ergo propter hoc, baby. Aww... yeah.