I came across an old recording of my band and have been listening to it at ear splitting levels. We didn't suck as bad as I thought we did, although I cringe with every mistake I made, no one else would notice them, but I do. How the fuck we managed to be sober enough to record shit is beyond me. (Actually we weren't sober recording. We were about as drunk as we normally were when we hit the stage.(God bless the recording engineer, he made me sound like a fucking genius. I just played the notes...he made me sound awesome.
Goddamn it, I don't think I've ever seen a prettier sentence! Can we get this guy some kind of poetry award or something? What do poets do for awards, anyway? Eat a bunch of opium and and talk about the darkness situated in pale moon situations as they cut themselves and pray to David Allen Poe?
Didn't David Allen Poe have an X-rated wax record back in the day? It had a bunch of songs about ravens, as I recall.
It was full of the raven songs, plus everyone's favorite- "Little Gothic Shallow Throat". Fun for the whole family, I say! If your family likes racist poems about sorrow, death, and blowjobs that is!
Damn it. I'm shit faced and can't figure this shit out. I burned the files from my old band to my hard drive, but how the blue hell do I convert them to MP3 or put them on the net? They're actually some pretty good shit. At least they've been amusing me for the past couple of hour. EDIT: I'd completely forgot that back in those days when we went in search of pussy we said we were "On the Hunt". We even wrote a song about it. Oh well, it's probably only amusing to me. So be it. Yes, I was a pig in my younger days.
Today I realized that the show title "The Biggest Loser" actually meant "the person who lost the biggest amount of weight." I had previously thought that the show title was simply mocking the contestants because they were disgustingly fat, and thus losers (in the 5th-grade sense) on that basis. As in, "You are the biggest loser, because you are still massively fat, and you're still a loser." I had always thought that show premiss was awesome; now I'm just disappointed. Today was not a good day for me being smart.
Fuck me running. Apparently I was listening to music much to loud. The front channels on my surround amp switched off and I can't get them to come back on now. I have a signal to my back speakers and the thump box, but try as I may I can't get the front speakers to come back to life. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck airports/airplanes/the whole damn system. Agghhhhhh. Delayed in LA for the night, shacked up at the fabulous crowne plaza hotel. Fuck this mess.
Got back from Montreal today. I must say, the city is a very good time. Possibly one of the best things about the trip was not getting carded anywhere I went for anything. After dealing with Providence bars (which are actually pretty easy to get into) and getting my fake taken away at a packie in Boston, it was great to not be made to feel like a criminal for buying some beer. My friend's apartment is a block off of Saint-Laurent so we pretty much stayed on that street the whole time. Of the bars that we went to I thought Korova was the best, though that could be because there were a lot of girls and some Mexican guys who thought I was great because I'm half-Peruvian and speak a little Spanish. Blizzart was interesting, my friend was wicked excited about Megasoid performing there on NYE and got us all to pay $20 for a ticket. The $20 did not include drinks, as I was led to believe it did. Montreal sucks the money and health out of young American boys. I was hoping this thread would be bigger by the time I got back but it looks like most of us actually found real-life friends last night.
I had to leave a "party" early because my girlfriend was the only drunk one there and it was annoying one of the hosts. Really people? It's fucking Friday, you don't have to drive and you choose to be sober? Go die in a fire, there are designated drivers that would commit murder to be in your shoes. Times like these make me question my move to Connecticut.
YES. I spent my summer in Quebec, and this was one of the best things about the place. You only ever get carded at the state-run liquor stores, and even then, they're pretty nice about it. In Ontario, holy fuck; you get asked for your ID in the same way your mother used to ask you if you're sure you want to wear the big boy pants; they look at your ID as if they had the slightest skill in determining if it was legit and really yous, and only then are you granted permission to purchase their merchandise. If you're out of town or if you have a learner's permit (which people usually give away to friends), you're going to be asked your middle name, your height, your postal code, etc. I know people who have been kicked out of liquor stores for looking too young, despite being of age and having ID. In fucking sane. Worst of all is when you're buying liquor with someone who's underage; if it's a parent with a kid, you usually won't have a problem (but I've heard stories of exceptional stupidity on this account), but if you're buying with a buddy standing next to you, then that guy might get carded, too. Fact: my rate of being carded is dependent on what I'm buying. If I'm buying beer or liquor (especially cheap liquor or large bottles of it), then odds are I'm getting carded. If I get just a bottle or two of wine, then it's much more rare to be carded. Oh well.
Fucking christ. My computer is dying. Too many tenticle rape sites or something. It's dying on me every five minutes, which Is why I don't have time to spell check. But I will back with you degenerates as soon as I can. Maintain your deviance, and we will continue to get along.
An update on my MTV watching habits: One of the Teen Moms (from the show Teen Mom, natch) decided she wanted birth control. In the edited clips with the doc, she brought up the cervical cap, the diaphragm (both of which are far bigger than I would have thought), and the nuva-ring. Teen mom decided to go with the Nuva-Ring, which as you now know, needs to be kept in the fridge (well, it can be kept out of the fridge for four months). Teen Mom also wanted to keep the new birth control away from her disapproving parents (who, of course, believe in abstinence until marriage). I'm sure you can see why these two propositions are mutually exclusive. Well, not a few days later did the proud grandfather find his little girl's vaginal inserts in the fridge. I have two commentaries: 1) This is kind of why she got pregnant in the first place; assuming that she'd be fine despite the clear and obvious risks to the contrary, and; 2) I kind of suspect the show is scripted after seeing that. I mean, sure, this Teen Mom is a vapid bimbo who's still dating guys left and right despite having a baby to take care of, who lacks self-awareness in any degree and probably qualifies for a clinical diagnosis of narcissism; but have any of you ever known a teenage girl who would want to store her birth control in the family fridge, especially when she wants to keep it a secret? And lastly, she should have just told them it was to keep her period regular and lighten menstrual bleeding. That'd scare away dad from lecturing her on not having sex.
Not a clue, but from the time my brother and I were 13 and 15 my mother gave us both condoms for Christmas.
It's 32 degrees here and I just walked outside to my car in leggings and a very thin tank top. I could cut glass with my nipples. Edit: I know that's not really cold in the grand spectrum of things. What I don't know is how you people survive in less-than-motherfucking-zero climates. Seriously, I'm baffled. (But it's probably the same way I survive in hundred degree temps with 98% humidity.)
Just got back from shopping. I bought a 30 pack of keystone and will probably stay in tonight. Not very interested in heading out in this cold, plus I am getting low on party funds. Just cracked my 2nd beer. I'm looking forward to getting drunk, baking lasagna, and flooding this thread with exponentially increasing amounts of stupid.
Nope, but I'll probably get a text from her when I'm good and drunk and lose my marbles. She either has a sixth sense about that stuff or a good pair of binoculars.