Shabby Road Studios meets Sanctuary Entertainment

With Shabby Road Studios convalescing from the savage onslaught of non-stop Don’t Tell Betsy sound barrages, Kev, Darrell and Carissa dropped over to Sanctuary Entertainment to lay down some vocals that would make the very angels in heaven weep.
Barry couldn’t have been happier to see us.



“Dear Facebook: Well, those assholes I told you about are here and complaining already. I swear, it takes every ounce of energy I have not to set them on fire.”



Darrell was very unhappy to find only 38 cents and a tube sock in the couch cushions.


“Can you imagine son, if all these records were donuts? I mean they’ve got holes in them and everything. And the gold records would be butterscotch donuts. Mmmmmm! What a scrummy world if would be!”



Jesus Christ! They’re stoned again. So, it’s only a matter of time before they try taking off their pants.



No. You’re wrong. I’m only taking off my shoe because my foot itches. Honest!




“If they sing Barnacle Bill the Sailor one more time, I will fucking flay those drunken fucks.”




Kevin and Eric wait ever-so-patiently for Carissa to bend over.




“Exactly where do a man’s ass cheeks go, when he turns 50?




“Uh-oh. Seepage.”




“I should really go soak these in Lysol."



Darrell goes off to the bathroom and Carissa realizes she’ll only have to put up with one of them for the next two hours.




“Carissa, look into my strange and hypnotic eyes, Carissa. I possess all the powers of Mandrake. You are helpless....I'm over here”




“I do not know my own mind, Oh, Great One. I am only alive to do your every bidding.”




“What the hell kind of a song is this? Half of these musical notes are penguins fucking.”




“You see son, if you hold it with your hand like this, you don’t even need that screw I accidentally swallowed.




“If stupid was glue, those two schmucks could wallpaper New Zealand.”



Kevin looks as happy as a man can be when he’s peeing into his own Nikes.



“Any moron can see this is a peacock feather. I can’t believe Darrell thought it was an one-eyed alien hooker.”




“Ewww. That’s the second squishiest thing I ever sat in.”




“Every time I see you with that beard, I get a craving for Kentucky Fried Chicken.”




"Seriously, have you noticed that these guys are about a thousand years older than you?"




“She’s now deep inside the bowels of my recording booth…and it’s time that I put my secret and oh-so-evil plan into action. Bwa-ha!"




As soon as Carissa closed the door, Barry pulled a secret and oh-so-evil lever that started to transport her to a “Woman Auction” in the Andromeda Galaxy. Kevin was able to wrestle our engineer to the ground and Darrell hit the stop button. Luckily, she only lost a toe on her left foot and a small piece of her ass, which she said she didn’t mind.




“Hey, so sue me. They pay a lot of money for broads in Andromeda.”




“Wow! I think that bastard Barry is wearing my legs. How am I gonna get home?”



After 15 Crantinis, Carissa is a member of the best guys of a band in the world and stuff.


Because Barry is a really good guy, we must categorically state that none of the captioning to his pictures is in any way correct and does not in any way represent the very business-like way that Mr. Fasman comports himself.
And I would like also like to state, without fear of contradiction, that Mr. Fasman has never sold anyone to Andromeda. Thank you and goodnight.

If you are in need of a quality recording studio in the Los Angeles area, Barry's website is
www.myspace.com/bfasman
Mr. Fasman was also the Producer of the Year in Great Britain (1982)
He can be contacted at:
bfasman@shelterfromthestormrecords.com.

Sing Out: Celebrate Women

Carissa participated in "Celebrate Women," a forum whose "mission statement is to uncover and promote hidden talent talent in [the] confines of a healthy environment".


The link to the page "Celebrate Woman" which includes the music video, in which Carissa sings, two documentaries and the bio's of the artists. Music video was released to two internet sites in U.S. yesterday and one in Europe. 


You can watch the video here or on youtube:

Shabby Road Studios - "The Way I Do" Sessions #6

Don’t Tell Betsy is back at Shabby Road Studios and they’re not taking any prisoners. Just how long can this fucking song take to record, you ask? (and many, many have) As long as we fucking well like! We did get a bitchin’ mix of what we have so far from Daniel K. We have a lead guitar to put on and then we go into Barry F.’s studio for the real vocals and harmonies.
In the meantime, here are some more pics from our ultra-super-intense recording sessions.


“Wo! I think eating that third “Zowie Brownie” was a total mistake.”


“I wonder why Ellis was so insistent that I eat this 4th brownie.”


Luckily for Ellis, the legal limit for drinking alcohol while playing the drums is
“Dead”.


“So what if I’m the only one who doesn’t know who doesn’t know who Randolph Mantooth is. That doesn’t make me stupid.”


Ellis is perfecting a new physical discipline that combines kung-fu with Botox.


Carissa tries to imagine a world where you can eat all the maple syrup you want.


Ellis tries to imagine a world without Dentu-Crème.


Ellis zaps Carissa with an absolutely vicious kein ayin hare.



Carissa practices pulling her top off for anyone who brings more than three other other people to our shows.


“And when the doctor showed me the x-ray…my prostate was this big and wait till I tell you what happened during my colonoscopy. “

This was sent to me by Jeff M. A wonderful piece on language by Stephen Fry.



Plus!! very, very cool news from the universe out there:

http://www.space.com/scienceastronomy/most-massive-galaxy-cluster-distant-universe-101014.html

Shabby Road Studio's - "The Way I Do " sessions #5

Just when any sane person would assume that we couldn’t possibly have any more to give, we gave more! (Don’t forget, when you make assumptions, you make and ass out of ump and tions!) More catatonically amazing music was bein’ laid down at the Shabby Road Studios last week and we’re making you apart of it whether you like it or not. So strap on your rock and roll seat belts and hold your nose, ladies and gentlemen. This is a bare-knuckled, no holds barred, hands off the steering wheel flight into the very epicenter of song creation.



“Damn! Never drink anything out of a cup on the band’s mandatory drug testing night.”



“Let me see. If he was born in this year and I subtract the present year from that, that means he’s…Holy Fuck!!!”



“Either Darrell put something in my water again, or I only just noticed that Ellis is a fire-breathing, dog-headed monkey.”



“Okay, I’ve had an erection lasting more that four hours. Should I call a doctor or the Press?”



“Please Lord, if you could just make them younger…or at least a little less smelly.”



“Wow! When this one reaches Carissa, she’s really gonna freak!”



The band is taken aback when Gregg drinks 13 Heinekens, pulls down his pants and does his impression of an elephant sneezing.



“Hey everybody! I just caught these two ants fucking!”

Shabby Road Studios - "The Way I Do " Sessions #4

The tension really builds on Gilligan’s Island and Ginger snaps….but I digress.
Don’t Tell Betsy were back at it last Tuesday at Shabby Road Studios and it was not very pretty. In fact, except for Carissa, nothing about the group is very pretty. But, where as most of those other asshole bands (U2? Metallica?) wouldn’t let you within a hundred miles of their creative process, This asshole band puts you at the heart of it. Before this song is birthed, you’ll live and breathe its highest joys and painfullest pains. You’ll be deafened by its labor screams. Perhaps you could be persuaded to pay for some of its medical costs? But, be warned, this song is comin’ at you like a freight train. If it’s like an Amtrack freight train, it may never get there, but then again, it might!



17 hours later, Ellis’ Preparation H, finally starts to take hold.



There really is nothing like a neck-high steel partition to keep the rest of the band away from our singer.



Ellis does the absolute best gay pirate impression in the free world.



Kevin just realized how old he is.



Nothing pleases Gregg more than beating everyone else to the last NutRageous Bar.



Ellis recreates his audition for “Brattleby, The World’s Saddest Boy Scout”.



"This reminds me of a blind date I once had with one of the Blue Men."



When all else fails, Ellis has to push the blood up his neck and into his brain by hand.



“Even on my worst, most shittiest day, I’m going to look like Eva Mendes next to these geriatric fucks.”



Ellis still hasn’t forgiven Gregg for eating the last NutRageous Bar.



“I will not look at Carissa’s ass. I will not look at Carissa’s ass. What’s that in my peripheral vision? Oh Fuck! I will not look at Carissa’s ass."



“Yep, the guys have been licking my microphone, again!”



“Half! That’s all I wanted. Last week you ate all the Twizzlers!”



“No Kevin, you’re not selling my mic stand for pot. Let go!”



“I found this little bit between my teeth. Three bucks or I wash it down with the last of my Long Hammer.”



To pass the time between songs, Kevin likes to perform unlicensed dentistry on the rest of the band.



If no one tells Ellis the rehearsal’s over, he will stand like this for days.



“So I said to the traffic cop, “If you think this is drunk, you should have seen me last night!”



“You see, I can touch it, of course it instantly kills anyone over the age of a million.”



This is Don’t Tell Betsy saying, “Please remember to drink responsibly.”