1) Shave your head. Get something horrifying (Tubgirl, goatse, Ron Jeremy sucking himself off) tattooed on the back of your head. The kicker here is to let your hair grow back over this tattoo, at which point you and a friend go to a barber shop. You explain to the stylist that you lost a bet, and now you have to get your head shaved. For bonus points, have a friend snap a picture of the stylist's reaction when they see the awful, awful way you've desecrated your body.
Of course, I have no idea if hair even grows over tattoos, so you might just be stuck with a revolting image permanently drawn on your patchy, mangy head.
2) Scuff off the first two layers of skin on the insides of your elbows. Pour ink on one side, then close your elbows. With any luck, you'll have perfect rorschach blots! But most likely, no. You'll just have an infection.
3) Get 50 to 100 metal tipped darts. Have a friend dip the points in ink, while you stand bent over with your pants around your ankles. Hilarity ensues. For added fun, divide the darts evenly among multiple friends. Assign each person their own color of ink. The person with the tightest grouping of dots wins a case of beer.
4) Find the characters for "Pretentious American Asshole" in Mandarin Chinese. Go to a Chinese tattoo artist and ask him to put this on your body. Tell him you're pretty sure it means "Freedom and Prosperity". See if he corrects you.
5) For the ladies: A nice, simple trickle of blood down your thighs. Fellas(Or ladies, I guess), how about a river of brown running down the back of your legs?
6) If you never wanna have sex again, get nasty sores tattooed on your naughty bits. Sure to freak people right out!
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
4 days: SUPER PANIC!
So it's finally really hit me that I'm moving, and now I feel kinda frenzied in my attempts to get everything done. I finally took all of my posters down off my bedroom walls, but there's still so much to do and I'm kinda freaking out. Factor in all my friends wanting to hang out with me before I leave and I'll be surprised if I can even find the time to sleep.
Jesus creeping shit! What am I doing writing a blog post when I need to be packing?! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!
...Anyway, my next update shall come from a different state.
Jesus creeping shit! What am I doing writing a blog post when I need to be packing?! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!
...Anyway, my next update shall come from a different state.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
13 days: Holy shit!
Album of the day: Marcy Playground's self titled. If all you've ever heard from these guys is their single Sex and Candy, you owe it to yourself to listen to the rest of the album. It's beautiful 90's alt-rock.
On another note, returning to the title of this post- Holy shit. Less than two weeks until I move. This is getting crazy. Even more of the house is being stripped of its usual comforts, simple things like curtains on windows. It's amazing how different the place looks.
I'm still really excited to leave though. A change of scenery is going to do me a world of good. Or maybe I'll just be depressed and lonely, being away from my friends. I guess we'll see?
In other news, the chances look good that the Frozen Idols album will get finished. I still don't have money for wire, so I dunno how I'm gonna make these necklaces I owe people, but I'll figure something out. The garage is a total and utter catastrophe, as well as my bedroom(which I STILL haven't packed up...), but most everything else in the house is well on its way to being done. Yet panic still creeps its way up my spine as the deadline looms ever closer.
On another note, returning to the title of this post- Holy shit. Less than two weeks until I move. This is getting crazy. Even more of the house is being stripped of its usual comforts, simple things like curtains on windows. It's amazing how different the place looks.
I'm still really excited to leave though. A change of scenery is going to do me a world of good. Or maybe I'll just be depressed and lonely, being away from my friends. I guess we'll see?
In other news, the chances look good that the Frozen Idols album will get finished. I still don't have money for wire, so I dunno how I'm gonna make these necklaces I owe people, but I'll figure something out. The garage is a total and utter catastrophe, as well as my bedroom(which I STILL haven't packed up...), but most everything else in the house is well on its way to being done. Yet panic still creeps its way up my spine as the deadline looms ever closer.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Social networking blows.
Facebook, Twitter, Google+, I don't care which, they're all fucking stupid. Facebook is quickly becoming the new Myspace, and I don't mean that in a good way. I look through the posts that people make, and aside from the odd interesting link or two, only four words keep running through my mind, steadily louder and louder;
FUCK
YOUR
STUPID
BULLSHIT.
The way we use technology disgusts me, even if I'm guilty of doing the exact same thing I'm bitching about right now. I don't care if I'm a hypocrite. I'm sick of it and it seems just a tad too passive aggressive to go posting this directly to my (sigh, yes, I have one) Facebook. Needed to vent.
Hey, thanks, blank white screen! I feel loads better. Same time next week, doc?
FUCK
YOUR
STUPID
BULLSHIT.
The way we use technology disgusts me, even if I'm guilty of doing the exact same thing I'm bitching about right now. I don't care if I'm a hypocrite. I'm sick of it and it seems just a tad too passive aggressive to go posting this directly to my (sigh, yes, I have one) Facebook. Needed to vent.
Hey, thanks, blank white screen! I feel loads better. Same time next week, doc?
Thursday, July 14, 2011
17 days: panic!
So here's the list of things I need to do before I leave the state of Pennsylvania:
Record a 13 track CD with my band Frozen Idols
Make at least three necklaces for friends
Play four gigs: One this coming Monday, two the following weekend, and the last, July 30th, just before I leave town.
Pack.
Recording starts tomorrow. If I had the wire, I could probably bang out all three necklaces in a day. The gigs, not such a big deal aside from the fact that they will be time consuming, and time isn't something I have a whole hell of a lot of anymore. Packing won't take long either, once I just fucking DO IT. But I'm having my same old problem. I can't say no to people, especially people that I'm not likely to see again until next summer, maybe even later than that. They all keep wanting to hang out, sapping away even more of my precious time. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends and I'm gonna miss the hell out of them... Actually, that's the problem. I love them too much to just say "No, I can't hang out tonight, I'm busy".
I'm still excited to move; I've scouted out the internet a bit, researching some of the bands and bars and other attractions that Indianapolis will offer me. I found a place that sounds promising, Locals Only, a place that bills itself as a music/art pub. It's only a half hour from my new home as well. I'm excited to go back to work, to live a responsible, sensible life. Hell, I might even pick up two jobs while I'm out there. I do have a zombie movie to finance, after all.
Shit. It's 2:30 AM. I need to sleep.
Record a 13 track CD with my band Frozen Idols
Make at least three necklaces for friends
Play four gigs: One this coming Monday, two the following weekend, and the last, July 30th, just before I leave town.
Pack.
Recording starts tomorrow. If I had the wire, I could probably bang out all three necklaces in a day. The gigs, not such a big deal aside from the fact that they will be time consuming, and time isn't something I have a whole hell of a lot of anymore. Packing won't take long either, once I just fucking DO IT. But I'm having my same old problem. I can't say no to people, especially people that I'm not likely to see again until next summer, maybe even later than that. They all keep wanting to hang out, sapping away even more of my precious time. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends and I'm gonna miss the hell out of them... Actually, that's the problem. I love them too much to just say "No, I can't hang out tonight, I'm busy".
I'm still excited to move; I've scouted out the internet a bit, researching some of the bands and bars and other attractions that Indianapolis will offer me. I found a place that sounds promising, Locals Only, a place that bills itself as a music/art pub. It's only a half hour from my new home as well. I'm excited to go back to work, to live a responsible, sensible life. Hell, I might even pick up two jobs while I'm out there. I do have a zombie movie to finance, after all.
Shit. It's 2:30 AM. I need to sleep.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
A collection of events from today, twitter style.
Explored some crumbling mostly underground concrete structures today. Think I found a perfect location for a zombie movie.
Almost got attacked by a snake while swimming. Well, it swam near us, anyway.
Tried to clean the basement up today. Lots of cobwebs everywhere!
Only twenty more pages to write for the zombie script I started a few months back!
Dollar Lion's head bottles at the Friendly Tavern tonight! Cheap and delicious.
Almost got attacked by a snake while swimming. Well, it swam near us, anyway.
Tried to clean the basement up today. Lots of cobwebs everywhere!
Only twenty more pages to write for the zombie script I started a few months back!
Dollar Lion's head bottles at the Friendly Tavern tonight! Cheap and delicious.
19 days: Stressing out
Album of the day: Veckatimest by Grizzly Bear.
Good calm music, reminiscent of Mumford and Sons with a dash of The Polyphonic Spree thrown in there for good measure. Dear Pitchfork media: Is that sentence good enough for me to get a job with you? Most music reviews don't do a lot to describe the feeling behind music. Instead, it's a never ending avalanche of adjectives attempting to capture the sound. The sound may be what the music boils down to, but it still seems like a sterile way of talking about music. Grizzly Bear, in that respect, evokes contemplation from me. It is soothing, enticing, and beautiful in its own warped way.
Eh. Getting better, I guess.
It's less than three weeks til I move. The house is slowly but surely showing signs that it will soon be vacant; boxes strewn all about, tons of trash bags on the back porch, full of useless old things. To be totally honest, I have not done nearly enough packing. The attic and basement are totally cleared out, but my bedroom is total disarray, and so's the garage. It won't take long to do these things, but it's just a matter of getting started, you know? Motivation is hard to come by these days, but as August 1st looms closer and closer, I think it'll be a little easier to find.
On top of that, I'm going to be playing a lot of music this month, it looks like. Both of my bands, 40$ Boner and Frozen Idols have two more gigs each over the next three weeks. If that weren't enough to do, Frozen Idols is going to start recording a 13 track CD this Thursday, with hopes to have it done by the following Thursday. The following Friday is the start of STONEFEST '11, a three day music festival that we organized, with 20+ bands on the bill, Frozen Idols' last show for a good long while. I'd like to finally have some CDs to sell people. It's really hard to type and eat a banana at the same time, by the way.
The very last show I'll be performing in DuBois is going to be July 30th, at the Battle of the Bands in the city park. We're going to have to play really early in the day, because that happens to be the day we're taking off in the U-Haul for Indiana. It's going to be kind of a surreal experience, playing a last show then disappearing off to Indiana within the hour.
So, there's lots to do, and my window of time for doing them is getting much smaller.
Good calm music, reminiscent of Mumford and Sons with a dash of The Polyphonic Spree thrown in there for good measure. Dear Pitchfork media: Is that sentence good enough for me to get a job with you? Most music reviews don't do a lot to describe the feeling behind music. Instead, it's a never ending avalanche of adjectives attempting to capture the sound. The sound may be what the music boils down to, but it still seems like a sterile way of talking about music. Grizzly Bear, in that respect, evokes contemplation from me. It is soothing, enticing, and beautiful in its own warped way.
Eh. Getting better, I guess.
It's less than three weeks til I move. The house is slowly but surely showing signs that it will soon be vacant; boxes strewn all about, tons of trash bags on the back porch, full of useless old things. To be totally honest, I have not done nearly enough packing. The attic and basement are totally cleared out, but my bedroom is total disarray, and so's the garage. It won't take long to do these things, but it's just a matter of getting started, you know? Motivation is hard to come by these days, but as August 1st looms closer and closer, I think it'll be a little easier to find.
On top of that, I'm going to be playing a lot of music this month, it looks like. Both of my bands, 40$ Boner and Frozen Idols have two more gigs each over the next three weeks. If that weren't enough to do, Frozen Idols is going to start recording a 13 track CD this Thursday, with hopes to have it done by the following Thursday. The following Friday is the start of STONEFEST '11, a three day music festival that we organized, with 20+ bands on the bill, Frozen Idols' last show for a good long while. I'd like to finally have some CDs to sell people. It's really hard to type and eat a banana at the same time, by the way.
The very last show I'll be performing in DuBois is going to be July 30th, at the Battle of the Bands in the city park. We're going to have to play really early in the day, because that happens to be the day we're taking off in the U-Haul for Indiana. It's going to be kind of a surreal experience, playing a last show then disappearing off to Indiana within the hour.
So, there's lots to do, and my window of time for doing them is getting much smaller.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
21 days to go; lethargy sets in
Yesterday, I dog/house sat for a very good friend of mine while he and his new wife traveled to Pittsburgh for the night. It was an okay time; his dog is an awesome labrador/italian greyhound/jack russel terrier mix that is sweet, well tempered and extremely playful. Plus, his wife has one of the most impressive Goosebumps collections I've seen since the late 90's. You bet I was all over that. In the course of 24 hours, I read at least five of them. Not that that's any great feat or anything. Each one of those books is 150 pages, tops.
I trudged home at about 3:30 this afternoon to clean out all the junk in the basement. It smells like wet death down there. A bookcase full of catalogs and other remnants from my father's ill-fated business came crashing to the floor some months ago, they all got wet, nobody bothered to clean them up until today... I'm sure you know where that's going. In case you don't, two words: Black mold.
Healthy, right?
My family hasn't ever been the neat freak type. I think it's a habit we need to grow into though, me especially. My bedroom has been a consistent mess pretty much all my life. When I lived on my own, I usually kept things pretty clean. I had pride in my home, because it was mine. The dishes might pile up once in awhile and my roommate and I probably didn't vacuum as much as we should have, but overall it was a pretty respectable home. When my dad's business took a nose dive and funds ran short, I had to move back in with my parents. That was two and a half years ago. Ever since, I haven't cared much what my room looks like, and I couldn't really clean the rest of the house even if I'd wanted to, because it wasn't a simple matter of my stuff being out of order. There were piles of old mail all over the kitchen table and by the microwave, countless other things scattered everywhere that I had no idea what my parents wanted to do with... But maybe that's just an excuse for my laziness. I'm pretty good at excuses.
However true that may be(thanks for the grammar lesson, Emily), I don't want this to ever happen again. When we moved into this house, it was kind of a rushed affair. We just put things away as fast as we could. As I'm going through my old belongings, I'm doing a great purge. I want to take only the absolute essentials with me when we move. I'm taking a couple of boxes of things that have sentimental value, but only two. The majority of the boxes I've filled are nothing but books, movies and CDs. I'm getting rid of lots of old clothes; anything that I owned while still in high school goes straight to the trash or the bottom of the ferret cage. I guess what I'm getting at is I'm trying to cut my possessions in half. The less stuff I have, the less my new house can get cluttered up. Seems like sound logic to me.
But it's Saturday night and I'm in one of those states of mind where I'm absolutely torn by loneliness and a desire for solitude. I don't want to do anything really, but I also don't want to do nothing. Guess that's why I'm writing right now. I don't have much to say, but it gets rid of the loneliness a little. I'm talking to myself, essentially, only it doesn't feel like that so much.
Maybe I should reach out and try to actually talk to someone. Or maybe I should go work on the zombie movie some more. I should do anything at all, other than talk in circles here on this blog.
I trudged home at about 3:30 this afternoon to clean out all the junk in the basement. It smells like wet death down there. A bookcase full of catalogs and other remnants from my father's ill-fated business came crashing to the floor some months ago, they all got wet, nobody bothered to clean them up until today... I'm sure you know where that's going. In case you don't, two words: Black mold.
Healthy, right?
My family hasn't ever been the neat freak type. I think it's a habit we need to grow into though, me especially. My bedroom has been a consistent mess pretty much all my life. When I lived on my own, I usually kept things pretty clean. I had pride in my home, because it was mine. The dishes might pile up once in awhile and my roommate and I probably didn't vacuum as much as we should have, but overall it was a pretty respectable home. When my dad's business took a nose dive and funds ran short, I had to move back in with my parents. That was two and a half years ago. Ever since, I haven't cared much what my room looks like, and I couldn't really clean the rest of the house even if I'd wanted to, because it wasn't a simple matter of my stuff being out of order. There were piles of old mail all over the kitchen table and by the microwave, countless other things scattered everywhere that I had no idea what my parents wanted to do with... But maybe that's just an excuse for my laziness. I'm pretty good at excuses.
However true that may be(thanks for the grammar lesson, Emily), I don't want this to ever happen again. When we moved into this house, it was kind of a rushed affair. We just put things away as fast as we could. As I'm going through my old belongings, I'm doing a great purge. I want to take only the absolute essentials with me when we move. I'm taking a couple of boxes of things that have sentimental value, but only two. The majority of the boxes I've filled are nothing but books, movies and CDs. I'm getting rid of lots of old clothes; anything that I owned while still in high school goes straight to the trash or the bottom of the ferret cage. I guess what I'm getting at is I'm trying to cut my possessions in half. The less stuff I have, the less my new house can get cluttered up. Seems like sound logic to me.
But it's Saturday night and I'm in one of those states of mind where I'm absolutely torn by loneliness and a desire for solitude. I don't want to do anything really, but I also don't want to do nothing. Guess that's why I'm writing right now. I don't have much to say, but it gets rid of the loneliness a little. I'm talking to myself, essentially, only it doesn't feel like that so much.
Maybe I should reach out and try to actually talk to someone. Or maybe I should go work on the zombie movie some more. I should do anything at all, other than talk in circles here on this blog.
Monday, July 4, 2011
A post, written in an exceptionally foul mood:
Drama drama drama, oh how I love thee. Let me count the ways.
Actually, I'd rather not. Suffice to say, it's been a shitty weekend.
So I can't really help myself, it turns out. Last night, I went to a birthday party that quickly turned into the birthday girl crying her sweet little drunken heart out, breaking down after holding in so many things, and I couldn't help. On top of that, the party consisted of three happy couples, one single girl, and one single guy, me. The single girl was in a bad mood because she's single, and kept being passive-aggressive about it towards me, dropping half hints and all sorts of other bullshit. Finally, when single girl was good and wasted, she said something to me about how I had no balls. So I strode over to where she was sitting and kissed her. I said, "Better?" And she said "Not really. You should act like you want me." as if me walking over to her and kissing her wasn't an indicator that I was interested. She then goes on to talk about how guys should do all the work in starting relationships and blah blah blah. I don't know what else she said because at that point I was fucking furious and walked away. I overheard her shortly after talking about how all guys are douchebags, which pissed me off even more. Ever since I was a young boy, it's been a serious goal of mine to not act like other guys, to not be the stereotypical asshole that only wants sex, and here this fucking cunt was, lumping me in with all the other dickheads of my gender. Fuck that, and fuck her if that's how she wants to think. If she's that goddamn negative, I don't need her in my life anyway.
Tonight I went to another party. More drama, in that one of our friends thought that we weren't treating her new boyfriend nicely enough. This made her all pissy, and I couldn't even enjoy a fucking conversation with people I hadn't talked to in months because EVERYFUCIKINGTHING HAD TO BE ABOUT HER FUCKING PROBLEMS.
I'm so sick of this goddamn place and the petty assholes in it. I can't fucking wait to move away, and maybe I won't come back after all.
Actually, I'd rather not. Suffice to say, it's been a shitty weekend.
So I can't really help myself, it turns out. Last night, I went to a birthday party that quickly turned into the birthday girl crying her sweet little drunken heart out, breaking down after holding in so many things, and I couldn't help. On top of that, the party consisted of three happy couples, one single girl, and one single guy, me. The single girl was in a bad mood because she's single, and kept being passive-aggressive about it towards me, dropping half hints and all sorts of other bullshit. Finally, when single girl was good and wasted, she said something to me about how I had no balls. So I strode over to where she was sitting and kissed her. I said, "Better?" And she said "Not really. You should act like you want me." as if me walking over to her and kissing her wasn't an indicator that I was interested. She then goes on to talk about how guys should do all the work in starting relationships and blah blah blah. I don't know what else she said because at that point I was fucking furious and walked away. I overheard her shortly after talking about how all guys are douchebags, which pissed me off even more. Ever since I was a young boy, it's been a serious goal of mine to not act like other guys, to not be the stereotypical asshole that only wants sex, and here this fucking cunt was, lumping me in with all the other dickheads of my gender. Fuck that, and fuck her if that's how she wants to think. If she's that goddamn negative, I don't need her in my life anyway.
Tonight I went to another party. More drama, in that one of our friends thought that we weren't treating her new boyfriend nicely enough. This made her all pissy, and I couldn't even enjoy a fucking conversation with people I hadn't talked to in months because EVERYFUCIKINGTHING HAD TO BE ABOUT HER FUCKING PROBLEMS.
I'm so sick of this goddamn place and the petty assholes in it. I can't fucking wait to move away, and maybe I won't come back after all.
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