What's Fred Durst Up To These Days?

If you are unfamiliar with the sharp rise and steep decline of angry American rap/rock of the late 90s/early 00s, I simultaneously am in awe of, and feel sorry for, you. It was a weird time: people dressed in velour tracksuits, bright pink newsboy caps, and a lot of denim, and also the word “terrorism” entered the American vocabulary. We got into a war, but only kinda according the the US government, but with the boom of the Internet things that would have been secret in earlier conflicts were suddenly much more easily accessible. And some people got really mad.

Popular music at the time was all over the place, but teen pop specifically dominated (at least that’s how I remember it), and to music purists that was just the last fucking straw. And so Limp Bizkit was born.

Actually, no, that’s not their origin story, but that’s how I like to think it happened. I do, however, remember bands like Limp Bizkit constantly talking shit about bubblegum pop while likely jacking off to Britney’s Rolling Stone cover every night, so it seemed like without manufactured pop, nu metal wouldn’t have ever existed. Or at least they would have had a lot less to be pissed about.

In reality, Limp Bizkit formed in 1994 in where else but Florida, and according to Wikipedia, they wanted to repel people with their band name, reasoning that, “The name is there to turn people’s heads away. A lot of people pick up the disc and go, ‘Limp Bizkit. Oh, they must suck.’ Those are the people that we don’t even want listening to our music,” and that sort of just sums up their whole thing.

Amongst all the strange rap rock that they put out, my favorite song, and possibly their most popular, was a cover of George Michael’s “Faith.”

I could write you a whole post about why this is genius, but I’ll spare you.

All this is to say that sometimes nostalgic radio stations will throw on “Faith” or “Nookie” or if you’re really lucky “Rollin” and when that happens I always ask the same question: What’s Fred Durst up to these days?

Because I really can’t imagine a Fred Durst existing outside of 2001 with his backwards baseball cap, soul patch, and constant middle finger flashing. Some musicians evolve with the time, some musicians even make time evolve around them, but then there are those that are a product of and so heavily defined by an era that there just seems to be no way they’re living a normal, modern life somewhere. Fred Durst grocery shopping at Whole Foods? Fred Durst swiping through 30 photos of himself for the perfect Instagram selfie? Fred Durst Tweeting his thoughts on the Game of Thrones finale? Impossible!

So I fucking looked it up.

He’s made some movies, been divorced three times, scared the entire country of Ukraine into banning him and his music from entering the country, and gone vegan. And after all that, the band came off hiatus

Limp Bizkit is apparently touring and preparing to release a new album as soon as Freddie feels he’s been given the right message from God or whatever. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what he’s saying in this Loudwire interview. I’m sure that message will be something like “stick this up your ass.”

But even more interesting is his actual foray into The Gram and the Twitterverse. Fred joined Twitter in 2009, but only has one Tweet, likely due to old ones being purged, but I like to imagine he used Twitter only once, five years after he joined, just to retweet this:

I followed him immediately.

But perhaps even more perplexing is his Instagram which appears to solely be photos of station wagons. Aesthetically, it’s fucking great, but brand-wise? If you showed me this, I would never in a million years guess this belonged to Mr. Durst. And even if you showed me this video he has posted there, that would give me no clues:

View this post on Instagram

#calipoopbags

A post shared by Fred Durst (@freddurst) on

Is this even him? I don’t fucking know!

I also followed this immediately.

But I think most exciting might be the fact he’s made a movie starring John Travolta that looks like it might just be Misery:

And look, I know Travolta is a crazy Scientologist and BattleField Earth…exists, but my god, do I want to see this. I mean, I think it actually looks good. Is that possible? There’s only one way to find out. I’ll see you on the other side, Dear Reader.

#calipoopbags

Dear Spider On The Ceiling Of My Kitchen

I know I am about a million times bigger than you (do your multiple eyes allow you to comprehend our size difference?), I produce loud obnoxious noises (do you even have ears?), and I appear to have the powers of a goddess by turning on and off the sun (okay, that one’s real), but I assure you: I only want to be your friend.

You see, unlike most irrational humans, I understand you have intrinsic value as a living, breathing creature, and I understand you have extrinsic value because you feed upon my nemeses: mosquitoes. This is all to say, I have no desire to smoosh you.

However, none of these perfectly rational realizations preclude me from that most based reaction of fear when, bleary-eyed and hunger-panged, one nearly walks head-on into a shockingly large, dangling, brown-recluse-looking mother fucker. I expected you to be there just about as much as you expected me which is to say not at fucking all, and I appreciate your instinct to scurry up your anal silk to avoid collision instead of swinging onto my face and crawling into the closest orifice to lay eggs. See, I know you’d never do this, but that weird, primordial fear is inherent in so many of my species, so you probably have your ancestors to blame for my response.

I am sorry my shriek was so ear-piercing (again, apologies if you don’t have ears) and my movement to quick that you likely felt threatened. Further, I am sorry that I maneuvered around my kitchen while I went about normal human chores in such a way as to make you feel I was distrustful of your kind and you were being watched. It was very speciest of me, but I can be the bigger creature (which, I guess, I naturally am anyway) and admit that that is exactly what I was doing.

I’d like to start over, turn a new leaf, spin a new web, as it were, and extend to you a…fly carcass wrapped in silk. In this vein, have placed a small plastic container on the counter, very close to the spot you are currently occupying next to the pot light (and have been occupying for a few hours now, a fact I know because I can’t help how I was raised). You would only need to move a foot (something like a few hundred spider-feet) or so across the ceiling and drop down into said container. Once you have done so, I will very gently slid the lid on top so as not to jostle you, but I will not latch the lid. Then I will carefully place the container outside, open, so that you may exit it at your leisure.

I think you will find the out of door suits you immensely better than my kitchen. Yours in sincerity and solidarity,

Ashley “Arachnids Are Friends Not Foes” Caggiano

Thoughts While Watching 2001’s The Fast And The Furious

For reasons unknown, Husband got it into his head that we, as a couple, need to subject ourselves to the entirety of the Fast and Furious movie franchise. Because I love him, I have agreed to devote 15 hours and 57 minutes of my life watching ethnically ambiguous men beat one another up furiously between races where they make their cars go, what I can only assume from the titles, is very, very fast.

We began with the first of what is currently only eight films: The Fast and the Furious. A la my She’s All That post, the following are my thoughts while watching, jotted down in real time in a notepad application on my phone. I have no screen shots, but I am sure, Dear Reader, that you remember this movie masterpiece frame by frame.

We’re 3 seconds in, and I can already tell this is not a movie that was made for my 31 year old lady demographic.

Are they gonna kill this truck driver? What the heck, I do NOT remember this at all!

Wouldn’t you stop if people were attacking your semi? How are you this good of a semi driver? Is this movie actually about semi drivers?

Jesus, this movie just feels like 2001.

PAUL WALKER!!! (My mom loved him.)

Is Paul Walker really going to have this girl cut the crusts off his sandwich? What a man baby.

This girl working at the diner (Jordana Brewster) is 2001 hot. She has no lips and a straight figure. 2001 was a simpler time.

Okay, Michelle Rodriguez just showed up and I am here for her.

“Sandwich crazy” needs to be entered into the DSM.

Who is this beardy fuck? Vince? Fuck off.

I’m feeling ultra gross how a tuna sandwich is being equated with Mia (Jordana Brewster) right now.

DON’T YOU EMBARRASS VIN DIESEL!

The movie is a commercial for NOS. I don’t know if that’s a brand, but I bet it is (and I refuse to look it up).

For a few seconds you see all these diverse people at the “car club” and you think this is nice, everyone getting together, but then they play music specifically from a person’s background and show how separate they actually are and–is that Ja Rule????

P Dubz’s car has blue lines under the hood so it is the coolest car there.

No hot lady with a flag signaling the drivers to go? What kinda bullshit car racing movie is this?

No one going 200mph would stop that easily.

The real miracle of this film is that, in the scene where they scatter from the police, no one hits anyone else.

I feel like I don’t even need to say this, but I’m gonna: All of these lines are terrible, and they even terriblier delivered. I had to make up a new word to express how terrible this dialogue is.

Now there’s a motorcycle gang! And they’re Asian! But they weren’t invited to the car club! But they race too! They have a turf war! What the hell?!

Dem cheek bones doe, dem tight pants doe! Johnny Tran needs his own movie.

AAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhahahahahahahaha the car BLEW UP.

All these lit candles at this drunk-person party–this house is going up in flames like that car.

Waaaaaay back in 2001 there were NO WOMEN on the police force.

Do you think anybody thought twice about calling this yearly dessert meetup “Race Wars?” Like do you think the writers, producers, or directors considered different names? Or do you think there’s a complicated, in-universe reason for the name?

FLOPPY DISKS.

This drop out with ADD should be the main character.

Vince fucking sucks.

Either I am thinking way too hard about this, or the director really wanted to give this backyard bbq a last supper vibe, and Vince is Judas. Or maybe it’s Paul Walker. Or maybe I’m thinking too hard about it.

I don’t think there are this many parking spaces readily available in LA.

P Dubz is a bad liar.

Okay, so Vince still fucking sucks, but he isn’t wrong about P Dubz being a cop. Man this is rough.

I just stopped paying attention for the last like 20 minutes and when I looked back up Vin Diesel was grabbing Michelle Rodriguez’s ass in such an awkward way that it looked like he was going to tear her in half buttcheeks first.

Okay, this movie is just Grease without the music. OMG what I would give to see Fast and Furious and Fabulous.

OMG SPOILER ALERT: Vin Diesel was the bad guy all along, I cannot fucking believe this!

Well it looks like, in a completely uncharacteristic turn of events, Michelle Rodriguez decided to wear her seatbelt and that happened to be the one time a car rolled over. Thank you for making a good choice and being a role model for all the kids who will see this movie.

The reveal that P Dubz is a cop to Vin Diesel was actually pretty great. This is easily the best scene in this film acting-wise, writing-wise, even how its shot.

Also giving the truck driver a shot gun was a good choice. You don’t see a lot of shot guns in movies anymore. Or at least I don’t. Maybe I’m watching the wrong kinda movies.

Is this thing ever going to end? There is so much yelling, and bullets, and revving engines.

Guess Johnny Tran isn’t getting his own movie.

Ooo, Vinny D and P Duz gonna talk the only way the know how: by racing!

The greatest love story of this film is the one between Paul Walker and Vin Diesel.

Choo choo, mother fucker!

Are we really doin this, bro? Yep!

Like Vin, I did NOT see that semi coming. (Hey there, Ashley from way after watching the movie here: Vin Diesel headed up a ring of robbers who heisted semi truck goods. Then Vin Diesel gets hit by/runs into a semi truck. I did not get this connection when I watched it, but now…are the writers of this franchise actually geniuses???)

KISS KISS KISS!!!!

Spoiler Alert: Paul Walker and Vin Diesel did NOT kiss. Guess they’re saving that for the second movie.