A fuck ton of music

This year has been fucking outrageous with the number of concerts I have seen. Lets give a breakdown:

1. Miike Snow
2. Zella Day
3. Matt and Kim
4. A-Trak
5. DJ Mustard
6. Danny Brown
7. Calexico
8. Wild Belle
9. Gaby Moreno (sort of) 
10. Marian Hill 
11. Verite
12. Shaed
13. Jarkus Singleton
14. Betty Fox Band
15. The Cedric Burnside Project
16. Train Wreck
17. Silversun Pickups
18. Kiev
19. A Silent Film
20. Deerhoof
21. Skating Polly
22. Megaran
23. Zeds Dead
24. Lil Dicky (although he did split...)
25. NBA Game (not a concert but I haven't seen one of those before so sue me)

It has been a pretty magical experience and I may have a couple more still left to go to before the year is up. Bob Moses in November would be nice plus we have the crawl in Bisbee. I'm fucking waiting for Queens of the Stone age to release a new album so they can tour. I know though that concert will sell out faster than a web page can even load (thanks stub hub) but I really want to try and snatch some up. It really makes me miss you though Andrew. Chris and I got to see a few of these bands together and it would've been awesome to have you there with us. Especially at the Dusk festival in the arcade. It would've unbalanced the teams but would have been stellar. Still can't believe you're gone man. 

I have a link to my imgur if you're interested in the highlights. Some pics and video apparently got lost? I don't know how but I don't see them. 

http://imgur.com/a/tERLD

I think next year I want to make a focus on seeing live shows that aren't music. Events like plays, comedy clubs, demo derbies, stunt shows, burlesque (or strip club hehehe), and other shit like that. I would also like to catch some more big band and classical. 

Well. That does it for this one. 

Cleaning house

I intend to restart this blog. To start anew. I am going to cast off the odd amount of hate this thing has gotten and start fresh. I have backed up all the previous posts, as they are mine, and will keep them secret and safe and what not but I will start a new line of posts. Ones that should be less hated for whatever reason.

A true drunk rant

Not really but pretty close.  Closest i have ever been at home. What do i wanna talk about? Do i wanna talk about being a total fuckup, or do i wanna talk about being with some one who thinks me a monster. Fuck it. You aint gonna read this anymore so what do i care.  Funny. I obviously do care else i wouldnt be writing to you.  I miss you something fierce but i know its not reciprocated so i just flounder. I dont know what it is but something about ya draws me.  Now, i aint gonna do shit but bitch and moan on here, hell i havent even looked at your pins since you called me a stalker or some shit like that.  Not gonna lie, that made me upset. Ya, i have looked at your boards but honestly you looked first. I remember now.  It was when my sis helped you at your bank.  I was curious if you would look at me and you did.  At that point, i gave up on looking for you.  I didnt check statcountet, i didnt look at your stuff, nothing.  I had pretty much gotten over you.  Then my sis texts me that she helped you. That you recognized her.  Then you go and look at my shit.  I didnt do anything.  I didnt message you, didn't look on pinterest, didn't do shit but just be at school and you look.  Then, i get curious.  See you wanna get married to some guy, which is your right but idk. It seems quick.  Yes I'm jealous but beyond that it still seems very quick.  Then you look more, and i look more.  I get a bit ahead of myself and think you still care but then you blow up again. It makes me sad you think i would ever, ever hurt you.  I would not.  I could not.  I love you too much. I still think on you but i aint gonna do shit cuz i know you don't want it.  Thats fine.  I want you to be happy.  All i ever wanted.  Ya, i fucked up with you but you engaged too. You also wanted to be closer and i pushed. I shouldn't have.  Neither of us was ready but it happened. So fuck it.  I loved and still love you.  I want you to be happy and i obviously haven't done anything to usurp that, nor will i. Other than write here of course.  Night.

And now we wait

Destiny had bound us by string as thin as air but stronger than heavy iron shackles. It flows through the world as if it were a fresh but powerful stream cutting through rock and ore to find the sea again. It binds us, you and i. You cannot escape your fate.

It is not love that holds us. It is not anger, revenge, lust or any other such contemptuous feeling. It is something more. Something that burns at the soul, clouds the mind with endless whispering, pollutes the heart, and covers the eyes with an opaque glaze where only or reflections can be seen.

It is sin that binds us. The original sin. The forsaking of our creator. No, i do not mean Him with a capitol h. I speak on the one true creator, fate. We have scorned it with our actions and with our words. We tugged and pulled on it till it stretched so far we thought it broken but alas we were wrong.

We are bonded and ever shall we be.  The urouboros, the serpent eating is own tail, will be our legacy. The epitome to our existence. So come, come and end me. Slay me with your silver, pierce my heart, gash my throat, tear my tendons, shatter my bones, gouge the eyes, burn the skin, do as you please but know one thing. We are connected, you and i, and all that is done to me must be done unto you.

Its cause I wanna know

I want to know what's at the end of the line. I want to know what the point of this journey was and to what end it leads. I want to stand at the clearing at the end of the path and look upon the face of destiny. I want to. I don't know if I can though. The blood that once so happily flowed through my veins, criss-crossing its way through my body in hollow tube highways, now darkens the sand beneath my feet. The smell of copper hangs around me like a cloud. Strange, the smell of my own blood is much like the smell of the pennies I earn spilling someone else's. Irony I suppose. We live and die by the coin so it makes sense for it to seep into our very blood. My pistol has but two shots left. Enough of my own blood soaks the ground to make my fingers tremble and my eyes lose focus. This is the end for me. I can feel it. Fear doesn't hang about like I thought it would, rather a sort of rational calm holds my mind steady. I count my breaths. One, two, three, quick raspy cough, and four. Beneath me, legs that were once pillars holding up the altar of the mind and body, shake and tremble. The ground is getting closer now and the sand waits to greet me. I can't lie down now. There is still work to do.

From behind the lone tree that served as my wall between continued existence and something else, I can hear their footsteps crunching softly in the dirt. They are hesitant. I can't help but smirk, at least I think I'm smirking as I can no longer feel my face. Here, they thought their prey would be an easy one, some old man with  one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel as my pa used to say. Boy, did I show them otherwise. I had fired ten shots, leaving one pistol dry and the other with the two rounds, and left eight corpses for the undertaker. Only one miss, not bad. The last round found a nice cozy home in the gut of a man with a relic of a scatter gun. He moaned and thrashed about in the dirt for a bit before slowing to nothing but a wheeze, a wheeze I still hear. Like me, there wasn't much time for him. Luckily, the wind was in my favor and blew the stench of piss and shit let go in the final movements of the bodies before me. Something they never talked about in the grand tales of heroes and villains in that hall so many years ago. They never told of the screaming, the whimpering, the panting, the shitting, and the pissing a man does before letting go his mortal coil. I remember though, I will always remember.

"Come old man. Meet your maker." His voice was a facsimile or arrogance. I knew he was scared, the now nine dead men beside him didn't bode well for his chances at easy money.  It wasn't supposed to be ten either. If the three (who still lived and were currently inching around my hiding spot to flank me) had kept their drunk mouths shut in the inn, there wouldn't be so many men (and one manly woman) lying prone in the dirt. The bounty on my head had grown since last I checked and the coppers promised got in men's noses and in their own blood. Hot with greed and loosened with wine, they trailed the three fairly decent bounty hunters and attempted to ambush the both of us. Pity for them. They didn't stand a chance. Now, two of the three and one drunk waited for me or inched forward towards me. I didn't have much time.

"I see that more of you have met yours. So, you come and meet your maker son." It was hard to get it all out but i pushed.

Ive come to collect

I've  come to collect, he said.
Collect what, i replied.  I have nothing to give, i am already dead.
I have come to collect you.
And how are to collect me? As i said, i am dead. Are you to put me in your pocket, or have you brought a jar? How am i to be collected.
With a frustrated stamp of his foot he answered, you do not get my meaning at all.  I am to collect you as in you come with, of your own volition. Not in my pocket and not in some jar, are you mad?!
No, i thought.  But maybe, i thought more. Maybe i have gone mad. Maybe this is madness. Perhaps i should be put in a jar and displayed. Here, a mad man in a jar, my exhibit will read. Died amd collected on the eve of his 30th birthday.  Interesting only that he is in a jar amd not a pocket.
Well, he huffed, do you intend to come with me or do you wish to remain here?
I dont know.
He huffed again, i havent the time, im sorry, but you must make a decision.
How? What? Why? I asked him and he answered each with either a stamp of his foot, a huff, or a flick of his wrist.
Fine, if it will hurry you along, i will answer one question.  Ask.
Okay, i responded. What time is it?

One thing

One thing that has been bugging me as of late are shitty, shitty memes. Like the kind of stuff your grandma passes around thinking they are hip. I know they really dont carry any weight but there is something so aggravating about slapping these inane comments on pictures of random celebrities or figure heads. With the presidential debates ramping up, my FB feed is nothing but this trash and usually in favor of Trump. Its literally just trash at this point. Often, the text is long winded and really base so im doubly infuriated  (mildly) reading it.

I just really hate shitty memes. I barely stand them when they are good but there is something so lazy and despicable about shitty ones. Theu feel so damn passive aggressive and i dont know of a single person who has had some kind of epiphany reading one. Ever. They are made to point out an echo chamber and people using them they way they do fail to see this and just moot their own point. Cant wait for this election to be over...

October 9th

What a fucking great concert. We have been waiting for Miike Snow for the longest time (well not too long I guess since we only just started listening to them) and they did not disappoint. Up first though was Zella Day. Man, that woman could belt a tune out. At first, I didn't expect too much considering the only song I knew was pretty pop with essences of Lana thrown in to dirty it up. Hypnotic is the name of it and while I like it, it didn't make me believe that she was going to tear it up like she did. She was so spunky, so high energy, and so good at hitting those high notes that I was pretty blown away. Her band was solid too, transitioning to each song fluidly and trying to keep pace with her energy. The drummer got some solid solos which really drove home some of the endings. I felt like there were some slight timing issues though as they attempted to keep pace but they handled them with gusto and just powered through. She was pretty attractive too. It was surprising to notice that she was wearing literally noting but lingerie (a purple slip that had to be no less than satin) and she was quite curvy for someone so petite. There were more than a few times I noticed her jiggling as she was jumping up and down. The best though was when she actually broke the tambourine she was banging on and threw it into the crowd in pieces. The girls just in front of us were lucky enough to snag one of the chunks (pitting friend against friend for possession of the former instrument). She was way more than I expected and we both really enjoyed their set.

Then on to Miike. Man, these guys are a hoot to watch. Three guys from Sweden I believe (not really gonna fact check as its late) that decided that in between all the music they normally produce, they would start their own band. Of course they opened with Pull My Trigger. It was so cool hearing a song that we have been jamming to be performed live and with such skill. Each of the band, including the kooky singer, kept transitioning to different instruments and sound boards for each song. It was a literal game of musical chairs and we were the ones not sitting. They played practically every song I came to hear; Paddling Out, Pull My Trigger, Ghengis Khan, and surprisingly Animal. Not that I don't like Animal but I really did not expect them to just kill that version of it. It was their outro song (also the encore) and they messed with the tempo, add a few more bars, and practically screamed the last chunk. It was such a great set. The singer was so bizarre but really cool. He seemingly dripped a casual aloofness as he strutted across the stage in his simple black button up and jeans. Wearing aviators and sporting some shoulder length hair gave him this indispensably cool vibe. His timber is so interesting too, almost a falsetto but not? Really bizarre.

I've been really loving all these concerts and have greatly enjoyed each show. Marian Hill is still my favorite but you really can't beat that venue. The Rialto is okay by comparison (well honestly its shit by comparison) but the shows they get are great and the prices reasonable so it makes it hard to argue.
Well, I better sign off. Happy Birthday (should you read this). Goodnight dear readers (ad sites) and pleasant dreams (I hope no one clicks your links you dirty spywares!!)

Every day gone is another day closer

Every day that ends puts me one day closer to Australia. I am beyond excited about going. I just found out the other day that the trip won't last as long as I expected but it will still be a significant amount of time. I also learned that the itinerary will be mostly "hangout" stuff. We have plans to visit a few touristy destinations in Sydney and Canberra before we actually get to working (if we do work). I am kind of nervous about the trip. I'm not nervous about crashing, although I did have a dream that we did and I wound up on some deserted island near New Zealand for a few months before being picked up a la Castaway. In the dream, I remained myself and uploaded a joke video to Facebook telling everyone I wasn't dead. It was a pretty dope dream.

I'm mostly just excited to be on a completely different part of the world! That is still boggling my mind, the fact that soon I will be standing in such a way that the Earth will be between my feet and my home! Almost the entire diameter of the globe if I were to drill straight down would separate me from here! Its a great opportunity. I know the girls want to go, and we discussed it, but with hours being the way the are, there is no way we could afford the extra tickets. So it will be just me and the team.

There's a naughty part of me that wants to go to this super extravagant strip club in Canberra and I know some of the guys would be down but I don't think its a possibility nor do I think I could even broach it with HR being considered. What is neat though is that we might end up seeing Rogue One before like 90% of the world! Turns out, one of the head guys in Canberra is married to the owner of a local cinema and she has offered the chance to see an opening day screening of the film. That would be freaking dope. To not only be in a new country, on a different continent, in a different hemisphere, but also to live in the "future" relative to almost everyone else I know.

Well, I better get to class. Check back around mid-December for when I leave. Who knows, maybe I won't come back! Maybe this will be my last post (unless of course deserted islands have wifi). Just kidding of course but you never know, you know?

Adios amigos y amigas. Till next time.

NaNoWriMo Coming up

Time to get this blog back to its name sake and away from folk who think me to be some kind of villain. Time to write about villains instead. So let's get to planning:

I really like that story I started with the kid who wakes up in his own grave as ghost only to learn that a clerical mishap kept him from getting where he needed to be right away. I like the notion that death is just as annoying as life and that we can never escape our problems. I want to tease the notion that death is an escape, that debts in life persist into death and the companies and agencies we owe money to in life have made a deal with collectors in death to persist the debt. This story, even when dealing with death, should be more upbeat, that there really is no end. I want that to be the main theme; persistence.

I also liked the Witcher fan fic I started. While not a straight fan fic, I would like to explore more what it would be like if the conditions so the Witcher's world (magic, monsters, prophecy, and political intrigue) were to persist into the modern time. I like the notion that there would still be monsters roving about in the digital age. The main drama would be that their population (once thought hunted to extinction) would be seeing a comeback. This would be much to ironic chagrin to the environmentalists that once fought for their rights as living beings.

There is also the Cabin in the Woods spinoff. I was thinking it would be neat to write a story that is anthology of the some of the different monsters down in the basement. After all, those horrors existed prior to the events of the movie and thus they would have their own genesis, their own stories, and their own times to shine. That one would be pretty much a straight horror and would probably be the most difficult to do as it would involve various time lines, various points of view, and having to give human characteristics to monsters. I wouldn't be able to make them all cursed beings that wandered into their own fates. No. They would all have to be unique and organic.


Whatever I choose, I need to plan it, from beginning to end. I would need to sketch out the introduction, some rising action, the climax, the falling action and the conclusion. The conclusion may just be the most important thing to plan too. We need to know what the goal is, what the target we wish to hit is before just blindly throwing things at it. I don't know which I wanna take. I am leaning towards the death story. I liked the jaunty feeling of it and the possibilities of an annoying afterlife for someone who was annoyed by the world. The problem is how did he die? How did this young man go? Will it be an accident that takes him or his own doing? Both of these would have very important implications on the story and its overall tone as suicide implies insecurity while accident would imply an unfulfilled life. Either of these has its claws in us today. Each of us struggles with the things unsaid, undone, and unseen. Maybe I make the story a comical introspection on that. Maybe I make it on the missed opportunities we all face do to whatever reason. Write what you know they always say. Anyways, I should get back to my studies a bit before lunch time.


Till we meet again dear reader I bid you ado and if you're that special someone *cough* fucking advertisers that leaving fucking cookie data all over this page that pay into google adsense that annoy the shit out of me *cough* go peddle your wares elsewhere, and if you're not them please have a sensible look around. Mind your head though. These ceilings are not lofty.



I have decided. I am going to pour some efforts into the dead comedy. I will try and piece together a plan for it before november.