Jack Diablo Hates . . . NOTW

NOTW. You’ve seen it. Maybe you’ve wondered what the fuck it is.


For God so Loved the world, he gave us pick-up trucks and tattoos.

 The NOTW bumper stickers started popping up years ago. I saw one again today, large as life on the back window of a Ford F150.

At first, I didn’t know what NOTW stood for. I thought maybe it was the logo for a Queensryche cover band. Back then, I never would have guessed it was an evangelical Christian acronym that stands for “Not of This World.”

 Are you fucking kidding me??!!

Jesus is an alien, fine. I’m cool with that. But, when he comes back, do you think he’ll really want to see all you douchebags displaying a logo that looks like it should be a tattoo right above some slut’s ass crack?


His girlfriend has a matching one on the small of her back.

Enough already. Just so all you idiots know, the company NOTW hails from Corona, California. For those who have never had the distinct pleasure of passing through this bumblefuck town, Corona is a paradise of white racist desert people that smells like a cow’s sphincter. Oh, and NOTW is a for-profit company. It’s not an altruistic charity with the mission of spreading the word of God’s redeeming grace. When you display this sticker, you’re not saving souls—you’re helping the CEO afford to re-tile his pool.

When did being a good Christian translate into displaying a red-necky rock logo with a hidden gospel reference? You’re not the “cool Christian,” ok? There are few things I despise more than the “cool guy” Christian who says things like, “Let’s rap about Jesus, bro.” I hope when Jesus returns he’s like he was in the temple that one time, flipping over tables and shit, except now he’s flipping raised pickups with monster-truck tires and using his laser-beam eyes to burn the NOTW logos into douchey foreheads.

If you have a NOTW sticker on the back of your vehicle, here’s hoping you get Left Behind.

JD hates

Commemorate the Fortieth Anniversary of the Fall of Saigon

Help save the remaining Whore Huts: Buy this track.

Whore Hut (repeat)

I met with Ho Chi Minh

Told him about American sins

He said: “Why talk about geopolitics

When you can talk about pussies and dicks?”

korean waar2


Take me to the whore hut

In Vietnam

Whore hut

In east Saigon

Whore hut

Where we drop the napalm

And all the children have no arms

mushroom cloud

In the Philippines

We look for little brown fucking machines

Democracy, progress;

That’s what we bring

Third World women

Make the best sluts

They work for cheap

And even tickle your nuts

When we march on your country

No ifs, ands, or buts

Just lead us straight

To the whore hut



In Ingaedong

Whore Hut

We’ll even stop in Taiwan

Whore hut

Don’t cry, is something wrong?

Whore Hut

Breakdown, spoken:

They want American money

American dream

They want Coca-Cola bottles

American cream


korean war

On April 30, 1975, North Vietnamese forces captured Saigon,

To some, a symbolic end to the ill-fated American imperial endeavor in Asia

To others the start of a repressive communist era

In which soldiers and sluts fought to stem the destruction of the last remaining whore huts

In Korea

We scoured the land

Looking all around for some nice woman

Day after day of searching for sluts…

Guess what?

We stumbled on a whore hut


In Itaewon

Whore hut

The port of Inchon

That’s where

MacArthur surprise attacked from

Whore Hut

Additional lyrics:

The Japanese had Nanking

Hey, let’s try to top that thing

© 2011 Rager/Rager/Clark

Jack Diablo Hates . . . Florida

This is the second installment of Jack Diablo Hates™, in which our revered lead singer rips Florida a new asshole.

Florida needs to secede. There, I said it.


All of our country’s slime seems to drip toward the equator, ending in one big retarded grease trap in the Sunshine State. Florida makes Mississippi look like Florence during the Italian Renaissance.

If a cousin-fucker hits the newswire for doing bath salts and trying to eat the face off his morbidly obese sister, you know it happened in Florida.

Floridians have usurped the state’s natural beauty and turned it into a dystopian Wal-Mart-themed concentration camp.


The president of Florida.

It’s like a blonde that was hot in her twenties who’s now 54 and so pumped with Botox, cocaine, and opiates that she doesn’t realize everyone’s laughing at her cellulite ass hanging out of her neon thong while her emotionally unstable Pomeranian hides between her wrinkly tits.

Sure, there are the gays, the Jews, Disney World, and Gloria Estefan, but for the most part, the entire state is a playground for slack-jawed third-world rednecks.


“The rhythm is gonna hunt you down and kill you.”

What’s the solution, then? They don’t need welfare because welfare is a crutch. What they need is their own government, their own laws:

Incest can be legal! Marry your underage sister, and sell the sex tape!

Be encouraged to gain 400 pounds and punch the Domino’s guy in the face, because he forgot your garlic twists!

If you’re askin’ me, Jack Diablo, I abide by one simple phrase: Build the wall!

JD hates

Jack Diablo Hates™


Jack Diablo Hates

Editor’s note: This is the first installment of a new series entitled “Jack Diablo Hates,” in which famed curmudgeon, and Fancy Ketchup’s lead singer, Jack Diablo speaks his piece about subjects he despises, especially celebrities. He fucking hates celebrities not named “Jack Diablo.”

Want to get pissed off? Go check out what’s “trending” on Facebook.

Tori Spelling—that horse-faced, washed-up bitch—was drunk or some shit and freaking burned her arm at Benihana. . . . Stop the PRESSES! If she’d gotten a double mastectomy, then maybe I’d have a reason to give a shit.

And then there’s Gwyneth Paltrow, with her “poor-person experiment.” So you’ve decided to live for ONE WEEK like the people who have been carrying around your ivory fucking tower for the last 20 years? Can she live on $29 of food per week? Do I care? Guess she’ll have to go without waxing her vagina for a while. Mark my words, this little experiment ends when her bush starts to get unruly.

The only thing that is worthy of #trending is Chad Galactic.

You heard it from me, Uncle Jack Diablo. Until next time. Hugs and Snuggles!

Jack Diablo hates a lot of things. But not his fans. Thanks fans!

Jack Diablo hates a lot of things. But not his fans. Thanks fans!

April Fool’s Day means Free Music

Call us fools—a compliment, considering what people usually yell at us—but April Fool’s Day has us in the spirit of giving. It’s like fucking Christmas for Coyotes, Loki, Brer Rabbit, and all other tricksters—a archetypal group we’re proud to be a part of! Anyway … we want to give you FREE music to commemorate the day.


Brer Rabbit, an OG Fancy Ketchup supporter.

Simply follow us at fancyketchupband.com (look for the follow button on the bottom right of your screen), confirm your subscription, and we’ll send music codes for our two albums, Hold the Mayo and For Whom My Balls Toil, to your email address. If you already follow our blog but don’t have our albums, simply email us at info@fancyketchupband.com, and we’ll send you the tunes!

In our humble opinion, April 1st is a day to share mischief and mayhem. What better way to do so then by cranking up some Fancy Ketchup!