All of AnsonianThunder's originals

I composed this track while envisioning an army of tanks rolling over the Russian border ready to conquer Eastern Europe. Except on those tanks were legions on gay men, dressed in biker leather, having a techno dance party, dancing atop the tanks as chaos and death rain
down on one small farming village after another. The missiles explode in a rainbow array of death and mayhem as they tear through the peasantry. Stalin, leading the barrage of destruction and waxed chests, twirls his mustache in delight, and pops another dose of MDMA as he urges his army onward

Stalin's Dream of Love

Stalin's Dream Of Love

Missing Basia ('s Titties)

Here you go. If the worse happens, and you have to mow down a gang of looters with an uzi to defend your toilet paper reserves, just put on headphones, dial this to 11, and turn those toilet paper stealing mother fuckers into a puddle of sinew and impacted fecal matter. This is the soundtrack to the apocalypse

Girl, You Got That Phat 70's Bush Hanging Out the Bikini the Way I Yearn for It to Do!

Corona Virus Soul Fuck

Corona Virus Soul Fuck Remixed

Bach And Bullshit

This is the music undead Vikings listen to when sacrificing humans to evil gods.

Dark Magic Blood Eagle

Dark Magic and Blood Eagle

You Can Qurantine My Balls (But You Can't Quarantine My Heart)

Covid Is Stored In The Ballz

My wife wanted to help get people listening to my music and said I could use her pic if I wrote a song about what I love the most about her. 

This is why I practiced guitar for hours and hours a day as a small boy. For the tits. Big ass titties.

It's All About Big Ass Titties

For all the women who think there's such a thing as titties that are "too big".

With Great Titties Comes Great Responsibility

Invoking SRV and Herbie to Bitchslap You with Funky-Ass Blues

This is the final installment in my trilogy about titties. My titty trilogy, if you will. Check out the first two installments, "It's All About Big Ass Titties" and "With Great Titties Comes Great Responsibility". 

My work is done, my legacy cemented. Cemented in the annals of titties.

Slap Them Titties Around

You Getting Yo Dick Sucked, Under Moonlight and Shit, All Romantic

Getting Yo Dick Sucked, Under Moonlight And Shit, All Fucking Romantic Like

Old Fashioned Incest The Way Granpappy Required It

Old Timey Incest The Way Grandpappy Required It

It's summertime and some girls got what you need going on!

Girl, You Got That Phat 70's Bush Hanging Out the Bikini the Way I Yearn For It To Do!

This Song is Danger. One Listen You'll be Kicking Ass, Railing Coke, Plowing Ho’s, Giving No Fucks.

I used Vocaloid 5 for the vocals.

Lyrics:

I need to know, why, why, why, why 

Momma always said a girl loves a bad boy
One that breaks the rules and don’t do what she say
“Why’d you have to go and fall for this one
In the bad suit and orange toupee?”

Well momma I don’t know what to tell you
He made promises no man can keep
All I know, All I’ll say, is who cares anyway
He makes me feel, like my kind
Is here to stay

Well momma, it’ s a scary world out there
Blacks and Muslims want to take our guns away
And really you must admit, Hillary and Obama
Are kind of gay

After 8 longs years a shining angel
Cast the darkness out
He dared to say out loud, words that hurt the liberal crowd
Casting their lies away, with words that only the heart dare say

And I swooned and swooned and swooned and swooned

MAGA for the USA-Guitar Solo

You know I never understood, if the blacks can use the “N” word, why oh why, why oh, why can’t I?

The Heart of a Trump Voter

The Heart Of A Trump Voter

This is a letter I sent to the Chief of Police in Portland Oregon a couple of weeks ago. I was horrified by images of the police beating civilians in my old city. Now the Feds are there violating all of the tenents of civil society. Kidnapping innocent people under cover of night. What's next? How is this battle won?

"I will not start this email with the customary honorific. The words you deserve to be called are not polite.

I was a resident of Portland for 10 years. I will return next year. I owned property there and will again and I am a small business owner. 

I am a 43-year-old white male. The system you protect serves me well, and yet I find that system vile and unfair. Your day to day actions are unjustifiable, doubly so as you and your ilk instigate violence on citizens exhibiting their constitutional right to assembly. You are the strong arm of fascism, evil, and tyranny. The kids out there protesting you are heroes. History will not look kindly on you.

In my ten years in PDX, I dealt with the police only once or twice. One instance when I did was horrific, and a testimony to how tone-deaf and heartless your institution is. I am a recovering alcoholic. In the middle of a divorce and as sad and drunk as a man can be, I called the suicide hotline on myself, outside a bar on Hawthorne. A member of your force was alerted. I was picked up. In obvious need of mental healthcare. A hospital bed. Kind words. I was instead brought to the drunk tank, locked in a tiny cell with only a floor and toilet, and made to suffer in isolation for 12 hours. It only exacerbated the situation at hand. All I had done was ask for help, and your officer was as callous as one could be in that situation. I had health insurance. There was no reason for the way it was handled. No help was proffered, only harm.

With my privileges and advantages in life, I made it through that period, stronger, sober, and resolved.  Most don't have my privilege, and I can only imagine how you treat them and how they'd fare after a few similar run-ins. The stats are clear on that, actually.

You have made an enemy of me, and millions more of me. Our society will change and the belief systems that justify your behavior will be forced into the dust bin of history. And ironically it will be accomplished at the hands of the effete long-haired weirdos, the social outcasts, the working poor, and the mentally ill. You know these people well. You tyrannize them every day. Seemingly weak, when faced by a militarized police force and a baton against the head, they are all far braver and nobler than you and the members your force will ever be. They are the people that songs will be written about. You are the boogeyman in the night, always forgotten by history. 

You all appear the same, with no names, no faces. Your visage is a symbol of evil. You've betrayed the good that resides in all humans and have embraced evil instead, thinking that as an instrument of power you yourself have power. But those that really have power care as much for you as they care about the protestors. You are a pawn.     
 
Bob Marley said, "I feel like bombing a church, now that I know that the preacher is lying". The preacher has been lying for a long time, and the church is burning. Let it burn. The world born of the ashes will be better."

Fascist, Authoritarian, Racist, Moron Cops Need To Fucking Take Hallucinogens Right Fucking Now.

While I was finishing this song, two people completely unrelated to each other and without prompting commented how AnsonianThunder seems to be influenced by Frank Zappa.  

In honor of this synchronicity, I decided to name this song after the greatest line of prose ever written. “He sniffed the reeking buns of angels” is a line from Zappa’s “Broken Hearts are for Assholes”. A song that is not only a timeless story and tear-jerker about a demented crossdresser named Sir Richard Pump-A-Loaf, but also a polemic to all pussy-ass bitches who have and will incarnate throughout the time and space we as fellow humans all share. 

I leave you with this. In these trying times, do not forget the sentiments espoused by Zappa in “Broken Hearts are for Assholes”. Go forth and “Ram it, Ram it, Ram it in the Poop Chute. Cornhole.”

The Reeking Buns of Angels

I woke up and said to myself, "Could a Western Swing style song be combined with Disco". I don't know if the answer is "Yes", but this is the result of trying.

Brokeback Mountain Boys Go On a Cattle Drive To San Francisco And Nothing is the Same

Brokeback Mountain Boys Go On a Cattle Drive To San Francisco And Nothing is the Same.

I Told My Parents To Fuck Off. I Quit Junior High. Now I Am A Rock Star.

AnsonianThunder is not a man but is a force of nature. It incarnated in 3rd-dimensional time-space reality with one mission. To lay down the sickest, most vicious and sadistic guitar lines possible. 

AnsonianThunder pulls guitar lines straight from the hoary and timeless nether regions of the human soul. When it lays its hand on the fretboard, notes sound with the power and fury of 10,000 big-legged women twerking in unison. 

It is interested in only two things. Tits and the acquisition of more tits.