Bebo

I have a talent for writing heavy metal song titles and you can too!

Feel free to add to the list ... here are some tips for beginners

1.Try and start with a verb or a describing word such as "amputated, bloody, mutilated"
2. Then a noun such as "devil, car, cat, norseman". Be creative!
3. If you are starting out try and use "of" as the next word.
4. Now we are back to a noun again. Place names are good normally.

Once you have completed your first title try and be a bit more adventurous...maybe even mix up some of the verbs and nouns. Go crazy!!

List:


burnt fist of the devil
crucified rabbit foot
sliced nipple of gore
dead whale organ of blood and guts
Crisp Ingredients: Potatoes, Sunflower Oil, Sea Salt and your severed thumb!!
stapled paper massacre
amputated tampon
amputated fingers of a zombie
crayon of the dead
salmon of heavy metal knowledge
cannibal skulls of Ovens, County Cork
face like a pair of disembowelled horse hoofs
under these leather pants are mutilated thighs
Guts Coffin O'Clock
amalgamated vomit faeces of the dead and elderly.
Fed Ex'd Zombie blood filled testicles
Death of a Heavy Metal Salesman
Sawn-off fingers of malcontent
Wife-beating giblets of Guillotine
Murderous diary of a mutilated débutante
Korn in the Kobain
Blood-spattered Rabbit of Suicide
urine cream corpse
Haunted Condom of Raped Corpses
Hitler's Blades of Glory
Coffin robbing Axe-murderer from Cóbh
Evil Carpet Uprising
Chapel of gruesome rapes and Sunday Mass
Graine's early post
Currency of our Metal band: mutilated flesh!
shopping cart of gore and toiletries

Here's me, Mulvy and Chris from MM1's go at a Christmas Numero 1...we need help though guys...so add a cheezy dance line to the already great song...

This will be recorded...oh yes...oh yes...

So far we have...

Mulvy -

"Dance Dance Dance to this Disco BEaT, Disco PARtAY!!!"

Brendan -

"Disco Partay, Disco partay, get your feet on the floor and partay!"

Yours...

A sandy mist speckled the fiery Roman sunset. At this time of day, the temperature in Rome normally cools dramatically, but in the Circus Maximus it was heating up like water in an ancient kettle. Fans from the red and white Chariot Championship finalist teams were still swarming into the colossal arena pushing the attendance up to the maximum of 250,000. Amongst the sea of red supporters too the South of the stadium stood three great friends. The first of them is Augustus Hassius, a jet blond veteran of the Praetorian Guard who once took two arrows for the Caesar, both in his left and right steely triceps, he lives off the benefits. The second is Maximus Cantius, a brave brown haired cosmetics merchant reared on the slopes of the Apennines alongside the baby Tiber. The third is named Pontius Pantaloon; he is a stocky tanned fashion designer from the shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea. He has a reputation for dodgy designs and his latest project is a self named outer garment worn over the hips and legs, he calls it the “pantaloon”. In fact whilst Cantius, Hassius and the rest of the crowd are kitted out in either red or white togas supporting their team, Pontius is prancing proudly in his red “pantaloons”, destined to see them break into fashion. This seems unlikely as the popular toga has remained in fashion since the earliest days of the Roman civilisation and has yet to be shifted off the cover of the popular fashion magazine “Rouge”. So far, his leg wrappings have been given the thumbs down by the Roman people and Pontius is constantly being abused, screamed at and even murdered in the streets by extreme “toga-ists” and other fashion enthusiasts who‘re destined to see their beloved togas stay in power.


In the distance a horn howled and the white flag was raised, signalling the beginning of the final championship deciding race of the season. The noise in the stadium rose and rose, like a storm. A great creaking noise echoed around the majestic arena as the giant gates were lifted. The two charioteers spun onto the track, bellowing a whirlwind of dust into the air. The first lap was a tight affair, with each chariot tussling for an early lead. ‘Ben Him’, the Red team’s charioteer and a favourite amongst the fans, was clutching the reins of his horses tightly. He had a fiery look in his eyes and a good posture. Suddenly he urged his horses on and into the lead. In chariot racing, to get in front is crucial as it puts you into the lead, a position which you need to finish if you wish to win the race. The rival White charioteer dragged his horses behind the Red’s chariot and into their slip stream. Here his horses gained more power and were ready for their final push for the lead. Unexpectedly, and to everyone’s horror the leading Red chariot’s engine blew out and the chariot veered into the giant red brick fencing producing a moderately sized explosion. A breeze of silence swept around the crowd as both sets of fans stood stunned. The Whites drove on past the crash site and moved towards a most definite victory. This looked definite to all but ‘Ben Him’, who stumbled out of the chariot’s burning blaze, bloody but masculine. He had something up his sleeve, a spear. He dashed down the track screaming loudly before launching the spear high into the dusty air. As it span in mid air, time seemed to slow down. Every organism in the stadium stood stunned with their hearts in their mouths watching as the spear cruised through the air like a cruise missile. The charioteer for the White’s heart was never in his mouth though, but soon it was on the ground, as Him’s spear pierced through his body, splattering his insides all across the tracks tiles. Ben Him hopped on his horse and galloped slowly to a heroic victory for the Reds.


Everything Red in the stadium including Cantius, Hassius and Pantaloon erupted into ecstasy whilst the Whites, who were angered and depressed, retreated out of the