The boys engage in more public drunkenness, innocently dehumanize people with cap guns, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Anthrax’s 1987 thrash classic, “Indians.”
The boys engulf themselves in Marilyn Manson’s groin, woodshed Smoke on the Water for music class, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of The White Stripes’ 2003 garage-rock hit, “Seven Nation Army.”
The boys squeeze into their wive’s red tights, rediscover a lost episode, and call Mother mooch to rave about Black Sabbath’s 1975 experimental masterpiece, “Sabotage.”
The boys fail multiple roadside sobriety tests, share a motel room with creeping religious authoritarianism, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Clutch’s 2004 alt-metal rocker, “Profits of Doom.”
The boys hide a stiff sock under the mattress, lament mistreating ex-girlfriends, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Alanis Morissette’s 1995 post-grunge hit, “You Oughta Know.”
The boys suffer from beer induced erectile dysfunction, rewatch Eraserhead, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Dead Kennedys’ 1981 party-rock mock anthem, “Too Drunk to Fuck.”
The boys lament the loss of legacy media, celebrate the consistent mediocrity of Brook Jacoby, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Tom Petty’s 2002 corporate radio critique, “The Last DJ.”
The boys take their dreams of stardom to Hollywood, bat cleanup for Tony Danza, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of System of a Down’s 2005 La-la land twin lament, “Old School Hollywood” and “Lost in Hollywood.”
The boys age out of the 27 Club, eat cheeseburgers with Gene Simmons, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of The Pretty Reckless’ 2021 requiem for fallen rockers, “Rock and Roll Heaven.”
The boys party like lawless, pillaging vikings, get overly sentimental about the banalities of home, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Motley Crue’s 1985 power ballad prototype, “Home Sweet Home.”
The boys hurl gobs of spit at each other, have an unnecessarily convoluted debate about rock fan boundaries, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Pink Floyd’s 1979 art rock opera, “In the Flesh?.”
The boys cannibalize the blues, ad-lib an orgasm, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Led Zeppelin’s 1969 hard rock classic, “Whole Lotta Love.”
The boys grease up their devilocks, kill a couple of babies, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of The Misfits’ 1980 horror punk shocker, “Last Caress.”
The boys demand respect from two-faced friends, make manly music mainstream, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Pantera’s 1992 groove metal classic, “Walk.”
The boys lace up their Adidas, get down on a muffin, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Aerosmith & Run-DMC’s 1986 genre bending collaboration, “Walk This Way.”
The boys break out of a slump by busting a move, do some research at Studio 54, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of The Rolling Stones’ 1978 number one hit, “Miss You.”
The boys break out the Simmons drums, get abducted by aliens, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Van Halen’s 1986 synth-pop hit, “Love Walks In.”
The boys drive a stake in the heart of hair metal, become reluctant icons of Generation X, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Nirvana’s revolutionary 1991 juggernaut, “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”
The boys ditch the kabuki makeup and spandex for Dr. Martens and flannel, trade their libido for self-loathing, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of KISS’ grungy 1997 single, “Jungle.”
The boys attend a Super Bowl halftime show in the rain, watch reruns of Hee Haw, and give props to a few of their favorite under-appreciated guitar heroes.
The boys finally put their years of medical school debt to use, deliver an overwrought eulogy, and use the scientific method to conduct an autopsy on the corpse of Kip Winger’s controversial hit, “Seventeen.”
The boys elevate from the norm, abandon fear, and hunt for crossed signals in the flickering light of Rush’s 1981 masterpiece, Moving Pictures.
The boys sing silly love songs, imagine the Beatles in the 70s, and wonder if it’s better to burn out or fade away.
The boys engage in a nuanced and thoughtful discussion about AC/DC’s ridiculously randy lyrics.
The boys confuse Cleveland for Cooperstown, kick out a bevy of boomers, and debate who should stay and who should go in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
The boys write shorter songs, hire a big shot producer, and examine five thrash bands who attempted to duplicate Metallica’s path to success.
The boys head south for the winter, listen to swamp rock, and shoot the breeze with multi-talented lead vocalist and songwriter, Jennifer Lauren of the band Diamonds and Whiskey.
The boys put bacon in their underpants, thank God for dead drummers, and construct a dream Rock-n-Roll band from centerfield.
The boys get fired by Mickey Mouse, eat peaches while debating double entendres, and share two of their favorite albums from the 90s.
The boys go on a game show, shoplift incense, and make whoopie with Bob Eubanks.
