Courtesy of Sub Pop
Tad
Hanna
Continued from Page 6
didn’t like into our milk cartons and
then we smashed it up with a fork and
n looked like puke and we were laugh
ing really hard about it when Mrs.
Rocket, the principal, came over and
she saw the puke-stuff and it was on
Mike’s tray so she made him eat it as
a punishment and I was trying so hard
not to laugh as he was eating it be
cause he looked like he was gonna
puke himself and that would’ve been
even funnier.
Mrs. Rockel is pretty mean overall
hut I’ve only had to go to her office
once and it was for something I didn’t
even do so I thought it was kinda
unfair so I told my dad and he came
down and chewed her out and she was
all red and embarrassed and try ing to
make excuses but my dad kept burn
ing her and it was funny but Mrs.
Wilson said that I was talking all of
the time but it was this stupid girl
Margie who was talking and saying
how great she was and everything and
I just told her to shut up and that’s
when Mrs. Wilson yelled at me and
when I tried to explain she got mad
der and sent me to the principal and
that's when my dad came and he
believed me and stuck up for me
mostly because I think he hates Mrs.
Rockcl anyway.
Once, me and Mike and this guy
Nick who’s always hanging around
but we don’t really like were picking
these apple things off of a tree and
bcaning them at birds in these trees
and Mike even hit one right in the
head and it fell down and flopped
around for a while but I think it lived
and all of the sudden this dog walks
by and he stops next to us and then
just dumps one right there on the lawn
and we were laughing so hard that
tears came out of our eyes and then
Mike took a stick and flicked it at
Nick who went home then. It was so
funny.
Then there was this other time
when me and Mike and Derek and I
think maybe Nick but I don’t know
were in the boy’s bathroom and we
were seeing who could stand the far
thest away from the pee-things on the
wall and still make our pec go into it
and M ike won but he always docs and
then this teacher walks in but we had
slopped and he could just sec all of
the pec on the floor but we just told
him that one of the pee-things over
flowed and he believed us and we
laughed so hard we almost all pcc’d
again because he was so stupid.
Anyway, these are some of the
funny things that happen in my life
and when lunny things happen again
like when Mike will sometimes pul
food like com or peas in this one girl’s
hair but it’s so big that she doesn’t
even notice that he did it and she goes
around school all day with corn and
peas in her hair and probably doesn’t
know what happened until she takes a
shower and when funny stuff like that
happens, I’ll ask my dad if he’ll let
me write a column again because he
isn’t very funny he’s just old and
thinks he’s funny but I don’t usually
tell him that because I think it makes
him mad and maybe you would rather
see my stuff in the paper because I’m
funnier anyway.
Bye.
Hanna is a senior theater major and Daily
Nebraskan arts and entertainment stafT re
porter and columnist.
(razy
Continued from Page 6
years.
Hie unnecessary scenes with Moore
and Hannah do hinder this movie, but
luckily, “Crazy People” never bogs
down for loo long,
I he various ads that Moore and his
new “agency” (other patients) come
up with arc hilarious and too numer
ous to mention, lliey make the movie.
With credits like ‘ ‘ Diner,’ ’ ‘ ‘Cross
My Heart,” and “Aliens,” Paul Re
iser has yet to be in a bad film. That’s
rare lor a young comic, and causes
one to wonder why he has chosen to
dabble in television sitcoms.
Along with Walsh, Reiser turns in
the best performance in “Crazy
People.” More than any other actor
around, he seems to make the perfect
corporate brown-noser.
Moore, on the other hand, simply
isn’t the movie commodity that he
once was, but at least he is beginning
to choose good roles again.
So “Crazy People” runs its Jckyll/
Hyde course between moments of
absolute hilarity and those of bore
dom, with Jckyll winning by a nose.
If Mitch “Good Morning Vietnam”
Markowitz had stuck to his very clever
premise, he could have had a great
movie. As is, “Crazy People” isn’t a
complete waste of time.
“Crazy People” is playing at the
Douglas 3, 1300 P St.
Wailing, flesh-laden Tad
to bring uglihess to city
By Michael Deeds
Senior Editor
Tad is a very large man.
His last album was entitled “God’s
Balls.”
The guy used to hack up meat for
a living.
But this Sunday night, the moun
tainous butchcr-tumed-axeman will
bring his nasty group of grungy metal
mongers to Duffy’s Tavem,'l412 O
St., in what could be the most explo
sive show in Lincoln this year.
Tad is a lot of things. A man, a
band, a Bigfoot monster bus. Cumu
latively, Tad is a Sub Pop records
quartet fronted by 300-pound Tad
Doyle.
Known for his intense sweating
and a stage persona that makes Meat
loaf look like Pec Wee Herman, Doyle
has nothing in common with other
power chord wailers besides noise.
This guy is the bad apple cf Sub Pop,
the hardest, deadliest, loudest hunk of
rotten, slinking flesh Seattle could
produce.
Along with other Sub Pop bands
like Nirvana, Mudhoney and Call Bull,
Tad has begun trouncing English and
American music fans wiih lhal plod
ding noisy wasteland-style now de
fined more in adjective sense as “sub
pop” than label sense.
And Tad really is not Sub Pop in
the loose, happily sloppy way
Mudhoney employs. Harmony is not
there. Beauty is never there.
Tad is the Motorhead of the ’90s, a
group of intensely loud people rede
fining music accidentally.
Doyle began as a drummer for
several now defunct bands in Seattle
before picking up the guitar a couple
years ago and fronting his own band.
Vocals come as casi ly as slaughtering
raw meat for the gargoyle, who sounds
as big as he looks, and maybe a little
uglier.
Tad described his band in New
Music Express as “a big metallic
grinding machine that sounds as though
it’s going to blow ap and fall apart at
any moment. It needs oil real bad, but
it never gets it.”
Lubricant would be devastating
for Tad. The band’s strained, deliber
ate mosh wall pours around the behe
moth’s SCREAMING, not singing.
Tad told Sounds: ”1 don’t sing -
faggots sing.”
Nothing is smooth about songs with
lilies like “Sex God Missy,” “Nipple
Belt,” and “Pork Chop.” Tad is an
element of evil in the music industry
today, an Antichrist to the angelic
New Kids on the Block.
Tad’s latest release, EP “Salt Lick,”
takes the grunge even further. Tad is
a catastrophic documentation of iso
lated thinking, an amoral exercise in
fury.
Live Tad is relentless and bludg
eoning, a shockwave from a sonic
boom that may well bring the lire
marshal to Duffy’s in search of a
volcano.
Opening for Tad will be Lincoln’s
own Sawhorse. Tickets are $5 in
advance, $6 day of show. Tickets are
available at Project Import, Pickles
and Drastic Plastic. Showtime is 9:30
p.m.
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