Monday, October 26, 2009



This post might be totally unnecessary, but I feel compelled to explain myself a little further on the whole Shelby Cobra/Shelby Cobras conundrum I discovered and posted about a week and a half ago.
Long story short, there's a 16-year-old semi-"scene chick" on the loose, who sings for a Radio-Disney sponsored, manufactured pop/punk band called KSM. She goes by the name "Shelby Cobra", and I have taken it upon myself to stop her from sullying this proud and honorable name any further. But this was all in the last post, a post which left some of you wondering where all of my self-righteous rage came from. And that's what I intend on writing about today. Every superhero has an origin story, right? Well, Shelby CobraS is no different.
It's "story time", kids, so gather round the campfire and read on...

A lot of you are probably thinking to yourselves, "what's the big deal, Cobras? It's just an internet 'handle', right? Get over it." Which is both true and false. You see, "Shelby" is in fact my birth name, while "Cobras" is not. Nobody wants their real name published on the internet, and there's a story behind everything.
Which brings me to another related point. Most of you are probably thinking that "Shelby" is a girl's name, which wouldn't be entirely incorrect. Besides historical novelist Shelby Foote, male Shelbys are few and far between, with one exception: Mr. Carroll Shelby (above right).
You see, Mr. Shelby (who had the distinctly unfortunate honor of having not one but TWO girl's names) was a master auto mechanic/designer who built some of the gnarliest machines to ever lay down burnt rubber. The Ford Mustang/Shelby Cobra GT 350/GT 500 (below), undoubtedly the sweetest muscle car in the history of sweet muscle cars, was Mr. Shelby's creation, cementing him as a God amongst car dudes the world over. But how does that particular piece of information factor into the equation?
Be patient, dude. I'm getting to that.

My own father also happens to be a high-ranking car dude, a guy who builds his own hot rods from scratch as a hobby, after getting home from his city job souping up cop cars. My old man (who also, only semi-coincidentally, was born in Shelby, Montana) is a certified CAR NUT, and holds Carroll Shelby in such high regard that he gave the man's surname to his first-born son. Which is ME. Which is why I feel like the moniker "Shelby Cobras" is MINE and MINE ALONE. I was named after that car. That Radio Disney floozy is obsolete.

But the story doesn't end there. Not by a long shot.
Perhaps you are fimiliar with the song "A Boy Named Sue", by an obscure litte country musician named Johnny Cash. This song, of course, tells the story of a dude whose father named him "Sue" so he would have to fight his whole life in defense of his name. Sue grows up tough. Sue grows up mean. Sue's story is pretty much my story. I'm sure you were all wondering how I became the towering, super-heroical BADASS that stands before you now. It explains a lot, right?

Anyways, the tale goes even deeper. I'm not much of a Johnny Cash fan (I won't go into the reasons why), but Mr. Cash did NOT actually write the words to "A Boy Named Sue". They were written by beloved children's author and poet Shel Silverstein, best known for books like Where The Sidewalk Ends and The Giving Tree. Shel's full name was Sheldon, but quite often went by Uncle Shelby or more simply, Shelby.
So "A Boy Named Sue" was autobiographical, and in real life would have borne the name "A Boy Named Shelby". Maybe you think Shel Silverstein wasn't a badass, that maybe writing children's books isn't a "tough guy's" job. Well, you're wrong. Just check out that picture up there on the left. Shelby Silverstein was a HARD MOTHERFUCKER, and rocked a girl's name just as proudly as I do now.

Which just makes it that much worse when some ditzy pop musician comes along and shits all over everything. Right?

If all that wasn't enough to make you sufficiently angry, here's a video of Shelby Cobra and KSM covering Cheap Trick's "I Want You To Want Me". And save all of your "I don't care what you say, those chicks are pretty hot" comments. A) Sergeant D doesn't read this blog. B) They're, like, 16.

(Speaking of Sgt. D, check out this kid's homemade Hollywood Undead tattoo/body mutilation that The Sarge recently posted on Stuff You Will Hate. Turned on its side, it totally says "I.C."!)

Thanks for bearing with me through that brief and self-absorbed rant. Now that we're all on the same page, I've just got one thing to say:





Mister Booze said...

Hey, nothing wrong with looking, right? As Lemmy said, "love that young stuff". I know, 15 will get you 20, but it isn't so bad with the sound off. Musically doesn't it remind you of the radio Disney version of Slipknot?


Oh, about the name, I just assumed it was picked for the car. Did you ever get picked on for the name Shelby? I figured on the Left Coast that would be no big deal.

Shelby Cobras said...

I DID get picked on, oh yes. "Smelly", "Smell me", "Shelly", and "Sherbert" were all popular. Hence my fists of steel, bro.

Bear in mind, I grew up in an area equally populated by rednecks AND hippies. "Left Coast" can mean alot of things.

Anonymous said...

I'm named after Shelby Foote. I hate my name. Whenever anyone says my name out loud it gives me a pang of anger inside to this day. The first thing everyone I've ever met has said to me upon learning my name is "thats a girls name". I dont have a nickname or anything, I just tell people not to say my name.