Well, Ive done it. Ive beaten the odds. They told me it couldn’t be done. I looked Death square in the eye and said “The check’s in the mail……Bitch”. Thanks to everyone who sent me flowers and porn and to whoever it was who said “Dont die”. Now that Im feeling better Im 50 parts piss and 50 parts vinegar. Im gonna tear down the fucking walls and break these chains that bind us. Im gonna change the godamn world…..Well maybe Ill just have a smoke and some coffee.

The music that you and your friends (If you do in fact have any) listen to is horrible nauseating tripe. You need to leave right now. Whatever you do don’t come back because your ruining my day. I am quite certain that if you hang around any longer you face will end up on the receiving end of some hot projectile vomit. Im sure that there is some mildly retarded socially inept guy whose 15 years older than you that would love to tell you your ass doesn’t smell. Go find him. Leave me alone. Im on the brink of death and I cant stand one more second of you or your tragic face.

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you have never been inside of a comic book store in your life. And Im fairly certain that you rarely ever (if at all) leave your house. However, just because your completely devoid of any sort of simple deductive reasoning does not not mean you are incapable of finding the price on the cover of a comic book. Or maybe you are.
Your children… Your children are horrible little people with cold black hearts who im im sure will grow up to be horrible big people who steal and fight and end up naked and drunk on COPS. They will grow to hate you because you were incapable of controlling them or teaching them some semblance of social norms. They will hate you. But trust me…They will never hate you as much as I do. I fantasize about applying my converse to your asshole till the rubber hits the back of your teeth.

I need sedatives.

Im a “musician”. I’ve been doing it for a long time and more to the point of this blog, I’ve been writing music for a long time. But Ill let you in on a little secret. I cant read music, I cant write music and I cant tell you where notes are on a guitar. However, that’s never stopped me from writing songs. I’ve worked out my own horribly complicated and arcane means of remembering what I write. Where as most people I know would write “E B C#” or some such nonsense, I write down something more like “1/3/8 2/6/4 1/6/2″. My friends have repeatedly asked me don’t just learn this shit. “Its easy”. That very well may be but Im doing fine just like this. And besides, Im a stubborn son of a bitch.

On the subject of demo CD’s.
Now, I’m not trying to say that my band is better than anyone else’s. I’ve shoved demo CD’s into hands which I’m sure took a trip to the nearest garbage can. But, that’s my point, sometimes making and handing out demo CD’s of your band would be just as effective as throwing money directly into the garbage. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t do it. I still do. Just be aware of what’s really going on. As I have seen your demo CD thrown from the windows of moving vehicles. I have seen their cases used to roll joints. I have seen them grow mold under piles of sweaty show shirts in corners of tour vans. I shit you not I have seen your demo CD in a microwave. I have seen them broken, defiled, battered, and belittled. And for all these things I’ve seen I’ve rarely seen them get played. Maybe it shouldn’t be this way. But….It is.