For a good year there, it seemed Aerosmith was done for. Steve Tyler fell off stage during a show, and shattered his entire skeleton, I think. And then, Steven was talking about branching out and focusing on “brand Tyler” and the rest of Aerosmith was all like, “Go ahead and do your own thing, dicklips. We’ll find someone to replace your junky ass. We may even go to the same village Journey found that Puerto Rican kid, and find someone to tour with.” Or something to that affect.
Next thing we know, Tyler’s heading to rehab for pain killers. All of a sudden, Aerosmith were booking festival gigs and everything seemed to be right as rain for Aerosmith. Only time will tell what’s really going on. You know how fickle the elderly can be. These dudes’ll forget Steven’s back in the band by the end of the early bird special rush. And then wake up tomorrow, and remember that he’s in. It’s quite sad, actually. One of the first records I can recall loving was Permanent Vacation. That’s right, I said it. I loved PM and Pump. But then, they did that fucking Armageddon song and I haven’t been jazzed about ‘em since.
This has nothing to do with Liv Tyler, a girl I used to want to bang the life out of…I mean, snot out of. She’s Steven Tyler’s daughter, and my crush on her has long since expired. Here’s a picture of Liv Tyler digging for gold. This is what happens when you’re the daughter of a rock star, I guess. Well, the daughter of a rock star who used the name and a shit-ton of Aerosmith videos to launch her acting career. Now, you’re famous. Deal with it!
NO! You can not pick your nose out in public because there are magazines like Star who will pay top dollar for pictures of you being human. They’ll run this picture next week and run some quirky headline like “Liv Picks A Winner” and…wait. We have WhatWouldTylerDurdenDo to thank for these winners. The only question is, are there any pictures of her eating it?
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