In no uncertain terms...
So all my shit looks like something that a seventh grade art student made.
Long story short; I waited downtown until 3:30 in the morning until some faux-punk bitch came and unlocked her bike from mine. I was not nice to her. I hope she made it home alright though because somewhere in those 3 hours of anger I found the time to unhook both of her brakes!
I crushed a few beers in the Kohl's parking lot and got fired up.
No pyro or motorcycles or carnival chicks. Just straight ahead rock-n-roll.
I left immediately following the concert on a suicide run to Bemidji. Got there by 2:30am. A couple beers and in bed (the floor) by 4am. Up at 9am and not back into bed (a chair) until 4am the next morning. What happened in between is a whole other story.
Tomorrow I have to help my friends move at 10am...
...but I had a hell of an evening: art show. good friends. beer. bar. beer. lesbians. art show again. bigger crowd. more good friends. more beer. cute girls. more beer. even more good friends. old flame. beer again. cute girls again. more good friends. free screen prints. good friends yet again. so much beer. rock-star kisses me on the cheek. good friends from out of town. intoxication. loud music. warm beer. pissing in inappropriate places. warmer beer. P.O.S. and Paper Tiger rock the crowd. drunk dialing. fast food drive-thru. road-kill. home. blog. spellcheck. bed.
A balding punker, sporting what looked like the beginning stages of an Amish style beard and wearing a leather jacket screamed at the top of his lungs "Yeah! Fuck Dallas, fuck the Cowboys and fuck Texas!" Then more quietly he added "Fuck George Bush too."
Walk away from a show with armloads of frozen meat.
Feeling exposed, he scrambled to change the topic. The record collection: a perfectly displayed mix of hipster and kitsch. As a product of his surroundings, he has no chance.
The only way I can make sense out of my current place in this world is to assume I'm being paid back for all the evil shit I've done in the past.
I smile when I see the excitement in their sweaty little faces when their favorite song comes on and they go charging into the pit. It reminds me of what it was like to be fresh to this thing. Some of these kids are the ones that will keep this shit going. Some will no doubt phase out and start listening to jam bands or other crap. That’s too bad, but to be expected. To those kids this is just a "youth phase." To others it will become a way of life. They will continue to dig deeper into the crates and commit to the genre; hunting down new bands and researching the history. That makes me happy. I'll admit sometimes it sucks, but, for better or worse, it will forever to be 'All Ages'...
Compiled from select writings, photos and art from '06-'07. AKA The MySpace years.