Crappy Dracula's Home Page!!!!!!11!11!!!!1
My Favorite things about Crappy Drakula
Krappie Drakula's Web Sites
Angelfire - Free Home Pages
R On Facebook, 2!
A band favoryte!F?!!1/wtflol?
Heroes (Not the sandwich nor the show)
Where Am I Right Now? And What Am I Doing?
The United States Constitution
Brock's Old Band
Justin's Old Band
Dug's Old Band
Crappy Draqula Fan Fiction
Band Frequently Asked Questions
Our Available Releases
Answers to any/and/or/all of these questions persistently raised by the band will result in the mailing of one (1) free copy of one of our first three 7"s to a person of your choosing other than yourself or Dustin Diamond.
Justin: How come Whatchamacallit isn't a more popular candy bar?
Brock: How come Whatchama ... oh, he already asked that? OK. Do I get another question?
Dug: Why do I talk nice and extensively on the phone with telemarketers, even after I've been burned into buying so many calendars and stickers?
Justin and Brock: You gettin' up, Fudgeworthy? (Jinx)
Brock: Why did my upbringing lead me to enjoy so much mid-80s electronic music?
(everything is $4 ppd except for the LP, which is $13 ppd ... mail crumpled bills and Canadian change to Dug/707 E. Wright St./Milwaukee WI 53212 ... OR go through PayPal at: email@example.com ...)
&&&& --->>>> "Almost" LP
(our masterpiece ... the 10 greatest songs you never had the testicles/ovaries to write and record yourself ... things on it that aren't necessarily "songs" include a distorted fax machine, a drunk driver, kazoos, and one of those Mac speak-and-spell voices busting a jive)
&&&& --->>>> S/T 7"
(four songs that all sound exactly like Camptown Races)
&&&& --->>>> split 7" with Sonorous Gale
(we have two songs, including a Leonard Cohen track that is nearly indecipherable; they've got one haymaker)
&&&& --->>>> "Out To Sea" CD EP
(the musical version of that time in cartoons when Aqua Man swam in alcohol instead of water)
&&&& --->>>> split 7" with Farms In Trouble
(we have three songs, including Milton's favorite, "Hospital Waste Management Facility Party Tonight" ; get on the Farms train before they're famous and wayyyyyy before they're infamous)
&&&& --->>>> "The Lockhorns" concept cassette
(Leroy and Loretta have more biting social commentary than any Updike garbage and better artwork than Chagall with a pencil coming out of his dingaling ... so we made a few songs about them, as well as Doc Ellis, and a time traveler who needs a hummer to prevent the Earth's destruction. Also includes our interview on WUWM from a few years ago, with added layers of commentary by us and Peanut the Kidnapper) AVAILABLE only through us live or SCOTCH TAPES
Hello again. It's me, Jerome Kern, the ghost of the grand, early 1900s composer of such hits as "Ol' Man River", and the great-great-great imaginary uncle of Crappy Dracula's guitarist and shittier singer, J. Allan Kern, Esq. I was just peeking through the seventh dimension and ended up on this here a-Web site for a spell, so I thought, "Jerome, why don't you let these good people know what the after-life is like." (Self, you've done it again ...)
I mean BAD. Real bad. Remember that part in "Event Horizon" where they show the one guy a vision of hell? Well, that doesn't even scratch the surface. I could try to fully describe it all, but they don't even have human words for what goes on here in the after-life. Sure, there are words for the despicable, despicable atrocities that happen here every minute, but to you they sound like this: bleakdjflkskkfooaslkdjboawwao8ablla! ! ! ! 1 1! !
Make sense? Of course not. There are other words, too, but those either sound like what I just wrote or something Rich Hall would put in a book to describe the stuff that clogs your shower drain.
I can only assume that I ended up in this version of the after-life because I gave my real-life to music. What a mistake! What an ultra-maroon! Heed my words, living readers (if you're a ghost reader, then give me a call on my spirit phone one of these space-days, I'd love to get coffee near the Murder Arena, or maybe take a walk by the Child Crushing Bulldozer one of these ether-weekends) ... DON'T CARE
. About anything. About yourself. And especially, about anything.
Well, it looks like it's my turn to fwoiefuowiemfweiofiwoemf, or what you humans similarly refer to as punching a bag of used syringes. See you in Hell! (literally)
Both Sides of the Coin
In our segment, "Both Sides of the Coin", we, The Crappy Dracula Foundation, present an academic breakdown of two viewpoints -- or "sides" -- of a hot-button topic. This century's topic: booty rap.
PRO BOOTY RAP
: DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMNNNNNNNN! Turn that bass up. Let me hear it go ... hump ... hump ... hump ... hump. Finally, a collection of booty rap favorites all in one place so that I don't have to lug out my old albums or 8-tracks. Thanks, Time Life!
CON BOOTY RAP
: Booty rape is an atrocity. Wait, let me re-read that. Ok, sorry about that first sentence. However, my outcome remains the same: booty rap is an atrocity. Can I get my promised bus fare now?
If you would like to contribute to "Both Sides of the Coin", please submit two, 4,000-word essays probing the respective sides of an issue, along with a slideshow to: firstname.lastname@example.org
As part of the federal grant we received to start and maintain a band, our mission statement includes a literacy promotion leg, which we call NOW YOUR REALLY REEDING!
Here, we'll reprint portions of books, magazine and newspaper articles and columns, and text messages that Aaron drunkenly sends, and add background and commentary for our younger and stupider readers.
Voyage au Bout de la Nuit by Louis Ferdinand Celine (available in Harcourt Brace paperback, hardcover and booty rap LP) +++++++ �He was thinking so hard about it that he had hardly touched his cassis. A little dust was rising on all sides. Some children with big bellies and smuged faces were wandering around under the plane trees; they too were attracted by the phonograph records. Nobody can really resist music. You don�t know what to do with your heart, you�re glad to give it away. At the bottom of all music you have to hear the tune without the notes, made just for us, the tune of Death.�
+++ Ok, right, I think, um, wait, no that's not right. I knew I should have written this in pencil. Let me get a pencil, I'll be back in a second. Alright, still there? Here's the deal: this book was moody. And by moody, I mean more than 400 pages. What kind of unemployed fuck has time for that? In the last 30 years, human ingenuity has brought us the TV, fast cars, the "Fast and the Furious" franchise
, Shoney's, airplanes, and digital TV. Yet there is no way, electronic or otherwise, to make books so that they're short and fucking cool. That's why you only see old people and teachers reading them. Oh, and the unemployed. So kids, unless you want to be old, a teacher, or unemployed with a diet of freezer-section Pasties, absolutely do not read this novel (more like No-vel). NOW YOUR REALLY REEDING!
An interview with political commentator and professional skateboarder Ann Coulter by Jamband.com's Taylor Hill ( http://www.jambands.com/Features/content_2006_06_23.06.phtml ) +++++++ Hill: What exactly do you love about the Grateful Dead?
Coulter: The tie-dye of course. Truth be told I hated tie-dye, though I finally broke down and would wear tie-dyed Dead shirts to concerts solely as a tribute to my fellow Deadheads.
Oddly enough, I like the music. No one believes that I never took drugs at Dead shows (except for the massive clouds of passive marijuana smoke) but I went because I really liked the music. There are various groups I get enthusiastic about for awhile, but of all the music I've listened to over the years, the Grateful Dead is the one band I never grow tired of. Apparently, the same is true of me for ski-lift operators.
Moreover, I really like Deadheads and the whole Dead concert scene: the tailgating, the tie-dye uniforms, the camaraderie � it was like NASCAR for potheads. You always felt like you were with family at a Dead show � a rather odd, psychedelic family that sometimes lived in a VW bus and sold frightening looking �veggie burritos.� But whatever their myriad interests, clothing choices, and interest in illicit drugs, true Deadheads are what liberals claim to be but aren't: unique, free-thinking, open, kind, and interested in different ideas. Also, excellent dancers! Watching a Deadhead dance is truly something to behold.
Somewhat contrary to the image of Deadheads as hippies, the Dead were huge in my hometown of New Canaan, CT, which is a pretty preppie town. We toyed with the idea of making "Truckin'" our prom song with a "Long Strange Trip" theme, but we ended up with some dorky rainbow theme instead. I tend to associate the Dead with lacrosse players and my favorite fraternities, Fiji and Theta Delt.
The one time I missed not being able to go to Dead shows more than any other since Jerry died was during the Clinton impeachment. There was so much viciousness - killed cats, punctured tires, threats, investigations and slander against those of us favoring impeachment. (Anthony Pellicano, you'll recall � the Hollywood private investigator now accused of criminal conspiracy, attempted murder, and making criminal threats � was working for the Clintons during the Monica Lewinsky investigation.) I don't really care what people say about me � I'm a Christian so there's nothing anyone can ever do to me � but I kept thinking: �Boy, would I like to go to a Dead show and dance with happy, friendly deadheads for just one night!�
+++ I'm getting a tattoo of this entire interview on my back, ass, thighs and calves to ensure that its contents are never forgotten, at least by my peeping Tom neighbor
. NOW YOUR REALLY REEDIN'?
A report from Sarajevo by contributor Zlatko Dizdarevic in Time magazine in 1994 +++++++ Meanwhile, the U.N. Security Council lifted some of the sanctions leveled against Serbia after Belgrade closed its border with Bosnia. A ban on civilian air traffic will be lifted for 100 days, and the Serbs can resume international sports and cultural contacts. The council also condemned Bosnian Serbs for renewal of their ethnic-cleansing campaign in northern Bosnia, where about 3,000 Muslims have been driven from their homes.
What of Sarajevo itself? As Bosnian Serb units once again tightened their grip on a city to which they have denied water, gas and electricity since Sept. 14.
+++ (The synopsis for this selection is generously written by Marvel Comics founder, Stan Lee): Greetings, true believers!
We've got a real downer of an item in this breakdown of the war-torn world city. Why don't we get a real-life Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. in there and wipe out the evil-doers? Or maybe this word-slinger should move to another city. Make mine Montenegro. 'Nuff said! NEW YOUR REALLLY REEDING!
@@@@ Crappy Dracula's ... GUIDE TO AVERAGE SPORTING FRANCHISES @@@
The highs and lows of being a fan can take a lot out of you. If you're some jerkoff who cheers on all of the teams that are always great, then fuck your mother. If you're one of those people who sticks with lousy teams, then I (we?) feel for you. And if you're one of those rare supporter of teams that find incredibly tragic ways to blow it, then you are from Buffalo (which means I love you).
But there is yet another, fourth category of fandom: the fan of average teams. I feel nothing for these unremarkable people. Here are some of their "teams", spotlighted with some taunts or congratulatory phrases to use when you stumble across this person at your local Dave & Buster's:
+++ NEW YORK JETS ("Joe Namath caused the Armenian genocide.")
+++ UTAH JAZZ ("What's the matter, was 'Utah Religious Freaks' already taken?")
+++ KANSAS CITY ROYALS ("And a good day to you, fine madam!")
+++ HARTFORD WHALERS ("How much is too much blood in your stool?")
+++ Any Premier League team that isn't Liverpool, Man U, Arsenal or Chelsea (NEVER taunt these people. Unless you are also a 7-foot, 300-pounds of muscle National Front member.)
+++ ESTONIAN TRACK AND FIELD SQUAD-1968 OLYMPICS ("Ya'll sure aren't Tallinn-ted.")
Here are some song titles we might never use
(feel free as long as you give us credit or mock us in said song):
The New New Vaudeville Band
Ron Schwartz's Pamphlet of Lesser Known Stereotypes
Paying Down Profane Existence's Debt (With Limited Results)
ALF Should Stand For Alien Laugh Form
Queen, Prince and King Crimson: Rock's Royal Court
Sept. 11, 2004
Dan Ackers Pool Party
Jack Chick Magnet
Honey, Can You Pick Me Up Some Breakfast Chicken From the Market?
(She's Takin' My) Pregnancy Test <<<<---- I think we're actually going to use that one now, so cease all use of it. Unless it's better. If you think it's better, call Dug's house and hum the melody into his voicemail and we'll make the determination.
8============D------ (to the left, the 8 is balls and the dash is cum ... I'll leave the rest to your imagination, sicko!)
Vote in the Official Crap Drac poll!
Now, we present a list of different kinds of jokes mixed together. (Writing everything in list form is easier for the author and the reader. Less thinking = more funny) For example, there is a set up of one type of joke like a redneck or yo' mama dis, and a punchline from another "type" of "joke", like a shaggy dog tale or Irish pun. All entries are submitted in order of importance and are either stolen from Web sites across the Internet or completely made up. The separate sources are separated with ellipses:
Your momma is so stupid ... Michael Jackson thought Boyz II Men was a delivery service! (ZING!)
A blonde, a brunette and a red head were smoking cigarettes one afternoon. The blonde had Camels, red head had Marlboros, and the brunette had Kools.
It began to pour down raining, so the red head and brunette both pull out a condom and put it on their cigs. The blonde says �what are you doing?� � and they say �we�re saving it for later!�
Impressed, and in a hurry, the blonde goes to the nearest store and asks for a condom. The clerk says �What size? small, medium, or large?� She said ... The redneck student replies with a nod and a grin, and begins to make his way up to the podium. The professor says, �Well, tell us what it�s like to have sex with a ghost.�
The student replies, �Ghost? Oh� I thought you said �goats�!� (OH NO HE DIDN'T! ACTUALLY, HE DID!)
After a heavy night of drinking at the local bar, a drunk stumbles into a Catholic church and slowly makes his way into the confessional booth. There, the priest patiently awaits the man to begin his confession. ... I voted Democrat because I love the fact that I can now marry whoever I want. I decided to marry my horse. (OUCH! PLEASE, NO MORE, YOU'RE KILLING ME!)
1) Diarrhea School
2) Soccer Riot Victim
3) The Eagles
5) Esa Tikkanen Sex Slave
6) Prison Cigarette Ponzi Scheme
7) Transnational Pornography Settlement
8) The Eagles Reunion
9) "I've Got To Put My Arm In How Far? For How Long?"
I'm really getting into cooking. Any body out there have a good meatloaf recipe? I'm completely serious. E-mail it to: email@example.com
A Fun Time I Had Camping Once
(by one of the band members who isn't Dug) ...
PART ONE: In the summertime about 6 years ago, my friend Josh was planning on moving (back to Ohio? Rhode Island? Italy, maybe?) from Buffalo. So, Ben and I arranged to have a "dude's night" (including fucking ... I dressed my butthole up like a vagina) with Josh, as well as Ben's brother, at some campgrounds in Central New York. There was allegedly some guy who could get us mescaline, but Josh advised against doing that psychedelic and we instead bought a bunch of beer and Old Crow. Bif was nice enough to let me borrow his old car and Josh and I met Ben and Matt at the camp.
THE SECOND PART OF PART ONE: It was nice out, so the great spots were taken and ended up pitching our tent on a plot of hard dirt. There were a bunch of lush trails and people fishing. We took a walk through a small waterfall and wooded areas before going back to the campsite and drinking our respective birth weights in shit booze. We had a fire and shared dirty jokes. Then, Matt and I got in one of those fist fights that starts as a joke then gets serious. I punched him in the kidneys until he collapsed, and when he stopped fighting back, I got off him. Subsequently, he turned over and clocked me twice in the face, giving me a black eye. It's still debated to this day as to who won the fight, but ultimately I think we both lost. We made up and are still friends (our friendship is actually exactly like the show "Friends" ... we work at a coffee shop together and both have women's haircuts and outrageous daily adventures with seven other assholes) We finished the bottle, thankful that we hadn't purchased the mescaline. What else ... um, oh yeah, Bif's car smelled a little bit like a dog and the CD player understandably hated the Sockeye disc I brought (but not The Strokes one, much to Josh's disgust). That's about it.
Ch eck out our cool a dverti sers!