Slayer Player Slayed?

On Thursday, 49-year old Slayer guitarist, Jeff Hanneman died of liver failure at a Los Angeles hospital.

Now, liver failure is not all that unusual–especially for a hard-livin’ rock star–but in this particular case it is. Some in the medical field are saying that a spider bite Hanneman received 2 years ago was the catalyst.

You read that correctly: A SPIDER BITE.

(courtesy Billboard.com)

(courtesy Billboard.com)

Here’s how the story goes: Apparently, whilst Hanneman was partaking in the ancient art of hot-tubbing, he got hisself bit by an arachnid. The owie healed–sort of–but Hanneman didn’t get medical help and soon necrotizing fasciitis set in.

Don’t know what that is? Well, I was about to post a pix of folks who had this ick, but the pix I found even made me wanna hurl, so I nixed it.

You’re welcome.

While I am not a huge Slayer fan (their music is too damn mellow for McCrabass), and I initially half-ignored the news of Hanneman’s death until I heard about the spider bite.

Some of the worst pain I’ve ever felt was when I got nipped by a Black Widow years ago, which is why this death-by-spider-bite-two-years-later angle has me flummoxed.

Spider bite deaths are rare in this day and age, which is why I am intrigued by what allegedly happened to Hanneman. I’ve heard of people almost losing body parts due to the toxic Brown Recluse bite.

But dying? There’s gotta be more to the this tale.

Until more is discovered, here’s a sweet, little slide show about the most toxic spiders on the planet. Hat-tip to the Daily Beast.

 

 

 

 

The Daily Earworm

Pick one or two or all of them. Whatever floats your boat.

I’ve given you a selection, depending on which year brings you the bestest/worst memories. In other words, I’m fucking with you and enjoying every damn minute of it.

#1 Mr. Leo Sayer. Nothing says secksy more than a Jew-fro, white duds and an adenoid-killing falsetto.

#2 Mr. Cliff Richard.

I had the pre-teen lady bits shivers back in the day for him — way before Rex Smith and Andy Gibb ended up on my bedroom walls. Cliff paved the way for my Marcia Marcia Marcia/Davey Jones crushes. However, prior to Cliff, there was Elton but my heart was busticated when it was revealed to me that Reginald preferred peen. I still loved his music, but his love for all things male stopped me from planning our huge county club wedding. (side note: My first rock concert was Sir Elton at the now-defunct Chicago Stadium. KiKi Dee showed up too. Elton tossed piano benches into the audience. Got a contact high from the hairdos in front of us who were smokin’ doobies with their parents. I got gum in my hair. I was ten.)

#3 Rex Smith. One of my oldest friends on this rock, Heather, and I would spend hours listening to the dulcet tones of Rex in her bedroom in the large house her family owned in the woods of Wayne. Heather was SO lucky because she OWNED THE RECORD. I was in awe of her because of that, and well, many other things.

This is my fave MOW ever, and Heather, I’m SO gonna marry Rex Smith someday. You can be my maid of honor and throw rice at us as we speed away in Rex’s Camaro.

#4 Andy Gibb.

I loved him so much I even named my horse after one of his songs. Let’s see if you can guess which one. (Hint: It’s not the one below)

He wrote this song for me, you know.

#5 Brothers Johnson.

I love the tummy gurgling sounds at the beginning of this tune. Makes me wanna pee.

There ain’t anything better on Earth than classic R&B music.

#6 FUCK YOU.

Coming soon: The Daily Earworm: Ladies’ Night

“Just call on me baby …”

I’ll be the first to admit that I am not a huge Whitney Houston fan.

Let me rephrase that: I’m not a big fan of that type of poppy, over-synthesized, played-on-one-instrument-and-one-instrument-only music.

Sure, the tunes are catchy, but lack the complicated layers I’m used to hearing a la Steely Dan, old Elton John, CCR, Zappa, Aretha, Gladys Knight, etc. Also, I enjoyed Ms. Houston’s voice when she was singing without all of the vocal gymnastics — showing off her vocal range instead of keeping it simple. Even with a voice like hers, simpler was always better.

Ms. Houston had a huge fan base that encompassed the entire world — and that’s a huge accomplishment –which garners a lot of respect from a hard-ass like me. She has tried and true fans even though she cancelled shows and the years of drug abuse came through in her voice — thinning it out to the point where she almost sounded like Leonard Cohen on a good day. Well, maybe not that dramatic, but you catch my drift.

Here’s my fave Whitney Houston song — she rocks it. Having good lyrics will do that to a voice and it helps a lot that Babyface co-wrote ’em. Plus the video is great too. She inspired me to buy and actually wear black velvet leggings back in the day.

Hope you find peace.