Mercy is for the Weak Dept.

It seems as if someone from the RIAA is reading this site (I suspect it's Elton John), as the divinely-mandated legal warriors of the music industry seemed to be taking my advice by going after a 12 year old girl.

Of course, their mollycoddling litigators only got it half right by settling out of court for a mere two grand. I would have taken my electroclash/pots-n-pans band, Hipster Douchebag, over to her house to shave her Barbies and hold her upside down from the ankles until her milk money clinked on the floor as our synth player urinated all over her coloring books. I hope she likes red. He hasn't been able to fully shake the kidney infection he picked up on a tour stop in Latvia.

I can sleep peacefully tonight knowing that the residual checks and settlement monies will begin flowing a beautiful river of green direct-deposited goodness into my offshore account very soon. If not, we have plans for the next file-stealing minor to cross our Internet path that bypasses wrongheaded RIAA mercy.

I can't tell you exactly what we have in store because it requires an element of surprise. But let's just say for now that our bass player picked up a black van on the cheap and fall into the sweet slumber of the vindicated righteous.


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