Ding Dong Paste Is Dead!!!

So I’ve been doing snow angels in the front yard all afternoon. The last time I’d done said activity was when I confronted a local right-wing(nut) ‘rock’ ‘journalist’ who was away from his day job as a record store curmudgeon and was visiting yet ANOTHER record store. Such good memories. Oh! And for good measure? I knocked his dick in the dirt. But enough about me and my silly snow angels. It is Georgia fer Pete’s sake…

I’d like to say that music fans worldwide will mourn this development, but Paste was never known for covering music. One of these days I’d love to tally all the writers that were never paid by Paste. Y’know, off the top of my head I can list a dozen. Good riddance to bad trash.

Q: What’s the difference between a bucket of shit and Paste Magazine?

A: Nobody’s dumb enough to have a benefit show for a bucket of shit.
There is none.
A free CD.
The staples.
A bucket of shit doesn’t ask you for money.
Most people won’t open a bucket of shit.
There is an off chance that a bucket of shit might contain nuts.
A bucket of shit can tell you more about what you like.
A bucket of shit doesn’t like crawl up Ryan Adams’ ass and set up camp.
In five years people will still know what a bucket of shit is.
More work goes into a bucket of shit.
If someone has a bucket of shit under their arm you might think they’re crazy but you don’t instantly hate them.
A bucket of shit doesn’t try to convince you to buy a Jack Johnson CD.
A bucket of shit only requires one asshole, not a building full of them.
The bucket of shit just might have a well designed cover over it.
A bucket of shit has substance.
At least flies are attracted to a bucket of shit.
A bucket of shit has staying power, especially downwind.
A bucket of shit doesn’t have lofty aspirations.
A Fat Possum can’t carry a bucket of shit.
I’d donate money to save a bucket of shit.
A bucket of shit grew weary of Uncle Tupelo a long time ago.
A bucket of shit has potential.
A bucket of shit doesn’t have a specially designed logo that always reminds me of the edgy lust for life present at the salad bar at whole foods.
A bucket of shit represents spoils of a fruitful effort.
A bucket of shit has useful fertilizing possibilities.
A bucket of shit is most definitely not insipid.
A bucket of shit never tried to rip off NME.
It’s possible for a bucket of shit to have been made by a talented writer.
You can’t use the discounted media mail rate when shipping a bucket of shit via the USPS.
People who stare at a bucket of shit are far better informed.
A bucket of shit knows more about typography.

Now seriously, Paste. Die.