Due to recent events, I am no longer comfortable with details of my life being public information.
If you would like to be able to read my Vox and you are unable to, please let me know you have added me and tell me where I know you from.
If you would like to be able to read my Vox, you are unable to, and we do not know each other, please let me know you have added me and tell me something about yourself.
Thanks.
Perhaps it's because we've played there before and that last time, immediately after breaking all of our gear down and loading it into our cars (no, we're poor so we can't afford a trailor), I came back into the place and it had completely morphed into a dance club. Know the shitty dance music¹ with that awful 808 drum kit playing the kick on each downbeat and the hi-hat on every upbeat? That's all that I could hear and people were bumping and grinding all up on each others business and everyone you made eye contact with had their beer/liquor goggles strapped on. It was an Absolut² nightmare to say the least.
Of course, that may have been due to the fact that the show I'm talking about was on a Saturday. This is a Wednesday night, so I'd imagine the crowd (if there even is one) will be the polo-tucked-into-khakis-and-Crocs®³ kind. The last time we played at On The Rocks, we had the choice of our form of payment. The choices were either a) 100% of the door, or b) free open bar tab for as long as we were there. We went with choice b. I'm almost hesitant to say the damage we did, but I can quickly get over that. The final total for our night's free bar tab was $588. It is illegal in the state of Tennessee to give away liquor and to this day I still do not know who the hell paid it. I just know it wasn't any of us.
Usually, we try to make fliers for the shows. Unfortunately we're not very consistent with having them. Fortuntely, however, tonight's show has a bad ass flier. Our guitarist Jon Don drew it, and it's f'ing sweet if I must say so. I'm not sure whether or not I'd go based solely on someone handing me one of them though. (scratch flier)
In other news, I was talking to Caleb earlier and he told me that the rest of the band has this feeling (he actually used the word fear but I think that's exaggerated) that I am going to quit the band. I think that's insane. I'm the guy that says, "You're out of the band" when, say, Jared calls me Jon Don.
He also said that they aren't too happy about the fact that I've been slacking on the lyrics department. I don't have a difficult time writing lyrics when I have a melody I actually think is decent, but it's almost impossible to write lyrics over a melody I think is stupid (unless I whatever I'm doing won't be take seriously). Better a good song later and fluff now than catchy fluff that people get used to. Where's my motivation?
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It is safe to assume this video is funny.
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. To continue the trend, I have to end this with a song from the cd I'm currently fascinated with.
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²· See what I did there? Yeah.
³· I didn't put the ® symbol there because it's a registered product, but because I have a feeling when and if I ever decide to read this "blog/journal" I doubt anyone will remember what the hell Crocs®©™ were. Idiotic fads tend to leave as quickly as they came. You can speed this process up by letting the nerdy kids in on fads. Everyone knows true nerds can't be trendy.
This is my new journal, and you're now a part of it (lucky you). I'll spare the introduction because I know who I am, and quite honestly it doesn't matter for you now does it? You'll eventually be bored to death by all those meaningless things about me and my writing will change to you, so let's delay that slightly longer. Perfect.
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Hey future self (and let's face it; you), do you remember that guy that looked like Jennifer Coolidge that cooked up a beatbox beat?
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Do you also remember the Rhymenoceros whose lyrics were bottomless? Of course you don't. Stop killing your brain cells.
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Currently I reside in a $1200/month house with four bedrooms. I have four flatmates and one of them has a dog that needs to stop biting me before I cut his balls off, cover them in chocolate, and give him his very own newly toxic chocolate balls as treats. His name is Samson¹, he's six month old (and he's extremely big for his age), he's a chocolate labrador retriever, he's a bastard, and he'll eat anything that he can chew up and swallow no matter how long it takes him. Surely he'd eat his own chocolate-dipped balls, but that's gross. Moving on. The house is old, the bathroom with the shower in it (yes, the shower) has neither windows nor ventilation of any sort, so imagine taking a shower in a room that smells like your cabbage-smelling relatives and perhaps you can begin to feel my pain. The other people that live here are huge potheads² too so the couch and television in the front room is always spoken for. We recently had our microwave stolen from the friend it was originally borrowed from, so with the microwave went all of my hot food options. If you buy food, it will at the very least be nibbled on by the people living here. If you nibble on anything that isn't yours however, shit hits the ceiling fan in the front room that was manufactured in 1972. Did I mention that my bedroom has an adorable little fireplace? Well don't worry about it because it's aesthetic only and would essentially be the same as burning logs in a closed room if I attempted to make smores. Central heating is a thing of the future in our naturally cold house, so grab your space heater, crank the knob all the way, and get ready to flip a breaker. Fuck this place.
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I'm going to end every entry, like this one, with a song from whatever album I happen to be currently digging. Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts.
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Much much more of the same old shit much much later, I'm sure.
¹· Named after the character Brock Samson from The Venture Brothers.
²· It gets really old explaining that I wasn't the one that told you that you could get high from smoking peanuts (see; can't) or blah blah blah blah blah. Put down the bong for a minute and remember a conversation or two.
³· And I can't decide whether this is a good or bad thing.
