Garrison Kelly's Blog, page 80
August 11, 2017
Dark Identity
***DARK IDENTITY***
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times (actually, that number is pretty accurate, to say the least): creative fuel can come from anywhere, and I do mean anywhere. There’s a fucking movie about emojis, for shit’s sake (which is also accurate considering there’s a poop emoji as one of the main characters). Back in the year 2004, a different kind of creative fuel flooded my mind: an X-Box game called Unreal Championship. It’s a first person shooter featuring sci-fi creatures, clowns, robots, giants, the works. The female aliens and clowns had raspy voices that reminded me somehow of Starscream from the Transformers cartoons in the 80’s. Thus, the seeds are sown for a one chapter novel idea slash pencil and paper RPG called Dark Identity.
Keep in mind, this was the year 2004, so I was five years away from being a serious reader and even further away from being a semi-pro. In a world of genetic engineering and stratified warriors, you had a badass motherfucker named Dujak Heil (nice last name; not racist at all). He went to a peaceful town armed to the tooth and got arrested for vagrancy in a scene laced with profanity and anti-Nazi references (from a guy whose last name was Heil).
This was the second and final story I submitted to my creative writing class at Olympic College (the same one where I went berserk after a kid named Patrick said my writing sucked). This second outing was much better than the Raggyd presentation. I had students tell me my story should be on Adult Swim. That’s a fucking compliment if I’ve ever heard one! And then I had a bearded troll named Alex tell me he wants Dujak to die a nasty horrible death. The feeling was mutual at the time.
Could Dark Identity have been something more than a one chapter cluster fuck? With some research on genetic engineering and serious commitment to the story, yes, it could have. Do I want to recreate this concept in the year 2017? Probably not. This whole story was centered around Unreal Championship fandom and hearing female clowns yell, “Enemy flag carrier is here!”
I officially beat Unreal Championship in February 2005 (just days after I was suspended from college for writing a nasty poem about my geology teacher). I’ve played it a handful of times with friends since then and that’s about it. So I guess it’s safe to say I’ve outgrown that game. I’d definitely consider playing it again to refresh my memory, but I must confess, the thumb stick sensitivity in that game makes it next to impossible to aim properly with anything but an automatic rifle.
Aside from outgrowing a popular X-Box game, maybe there was some truth to what Alex said about Dujak being a hate-worthy character. He betrayed his tribe, he brought weapons into a peaceful town, and he made wisecracks at the guards for trying to arrest him. Unless there’s some mustard behind those remarks, those aren’t likeable qualities in a main character. The best kinds of protagonists are the ones we can sympathize with. That’s why we have a lot of heroes as protagonists rather than villains: because most of us can relate to being good people with hearts of gold. Mitch McLeod needed a massive overhaul in his character in order to make Occupy Wrestling as polished as it is today.
Dark Identity is just another potentially good idea that got lost in the shuffle of other projects. It hasn’t aged well since 2004/2005, so it won’t be made into a novel or short story. The lesson of the day: not everything you touch will turn to gold. Knowing the difference between diamonds and coal is something all writers need to do. I once heard an internet personality call it a “crap detector”. We all think our crap detectors are strong until we’re proven otherwise, but even then some authors will fight that uphill battle until the end. Listening to your peers (the helpful ones) is paramount to success as an author. We’ve got ears, say cheers!
***CREATIVE OUTPUT AND BOREDOM***
These days, I can’t really decide between having a lot of projects to do and having a small amount. I’m either bored out of my mind or overwhelmed to the point of chaos. I need to find a middle ground, but I’m no closer to finding it now than I was the past few weeks, where I had so little to do that I got bored easily. One of my solutions to this boredom is to write short stories for American Darkness 2 and Poison Tongue Tales 2 outside of the WSS. I did that for the first Poison Tongue Tales book back in 2015 during NaNoWriMo and it was a massive success. Perhaps I could do it again this time around, provided I have the energy for it. It turns out, though, that the next AD2 story I plan on writing fits in with the WSS prompt for the week, which is “Searing”.
***AMERICAN DARKNESS 2: WE ARE THE MACHINE***
Yes, you’ll notice that both American Darkness 2 and Poison Tongue Tales 2 have different subtitles than what I originally gave them. In the case of AD2, Black State could have so many different meanings that it could be misinterpreted. Now it’s called We Are the Machine. It sounds cool and nobody’s reading too much into its intended meaning. For this collection, the next story will be called “Street Warriors” (another title I’m considering changing) and it goes like this:
CHARACTERS:
1. Samir the Skull Crusher, Indian Street Brawler
2. Crackers the Clown, Evil Clown
3. Kristen Miranda, Runaway Teen
PROMPT CONFORMITY: Kristen starts the story by searching for shelter.
SYNOPSIS: Kristen runs away from home and finds herself in the darkest, dankest part of Paulson City. When she tries to warm up next to a garbage can fire, she’s confronted by Crackers the Clown, who claims that she doesn’t belong in these streets and needs to get the hell out. The only way Crackers will let Kristen stay is if she agrees to have sex with him, to which Samir the Skull Crusher intervenes, claiming to be the one who gets to have her. The two scary characters brawl while Kristen is cowering in the corner wishing she was home right now.
***POISON TONGUE TALES 2: THE RIGHT TO REMAIN PSYCHOTIC***
Here’s the story I plan on working on independently. It’s called “Mine All Mine” and it goes like this:
CHARACTERS:
1. Chris Buyatt, Capoeira Fighter
2. Michael Tyoni, Pyromancer
3. Nina Thomas, Politician
PROMPT CONFORMITY: To be announced.
SYNOPSIS: Chris and Michael’s race against each other leads them to the Black Dust Salt Mine, where videotaped evidence against Nina’s corruption is being secretly kept. Chris wants to bring the evidence to light while Michael wants to use his pyromancy to burn it and save Nina from embarrassment. The warrior and the wizard battle it out with Mayor Thomas watching in the background with a shotgun in hand.
***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***
With new characters come new drawings. The first on the barbecue rack is Chris Buyatt from Mine All Mine. He was previously used in my Final Fantasy videogame idea from 2002-2005 as Gail Reinhold’s ex-boyfriend, but has since been scrapped until now. Gail is now a part of the Poison Tongue Tales story “Zombie” and Chris will make his official debut in “Mine All Mine”.
***MOVIE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***
CRAZY K: Sensory what?!
DR. CUSHING: Sensory deprivation chamber. You will see nothing, you will hear nothing. Your mind will have nothing to feed upon but itself. It’s a tiny meal indeed. Hahahahaha!
-Tales From the Hood: Hardcore Convert-
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times (actually, that number is pretty accurate, to say the least): creative fuel can come from anywhere, and I do mean anywhere. There’s a fucking movie about emojis, for shit’s sake (which is also accurate considering there’s a poop emoji as one of the main characters). Back in the year 2004, a different kind of creative fuel flooded my mind: an X-Box game called Unreal Championship. It’s a first person shooter featuring sci-fi creatures, clowns, robots, giants, the works. The female aliens and clowns had raspy voices that reminded me somehow of Starscream from the Transformers cartoons in the 80’s. Thus, the seeds are sown for a one chapter novel idea slash pencil and paper RPG called Dark Identity.
Keep in mind, this was the year 2004, so I was five years away from being a serious reader and even further away from being a semi-pro. In a world of genetic engineering and stratified warriors, you had a badass motherfucker named Dujak Heil (nice last name; not racist at all). He went to a peaceful town armed to the tooth and got arrested for vagrancy in a scene laced with profanity and anti-Nazi references (from a guy whose last name was Heil).
This was the second and final story I submitted to my creative writing class at Olympic College (the same one where I went berserk after a kid named Patrick said my writing sucked). This second outing was much better than the Raggyd presentation. I had students tell me my story should be on Adult Swim. That’s a fucking compliment if I’ve ever heard one! And then I had a bearded troll named Alex tell me he wants Dujak to die a nasty horrible death. The feeling was mutual at the time.
Could Dark Identity have been something more than a one chapter cluster fuck? With some research on genetic engineering and serious commitment to the story, yes, it could have. Do I want to recreate this concept in the year 2017? Probably not. This whole story was centered around Unreal Championship fandom and hearing female clowns yell, “Enemy flag carrier is here!”
I officially beat Unreal Championship in February 2005 (just days after I was suspended from college for writing a nasty poem about my geology teacher). I’ve played it a handful of times with friends since then and that’s about it. So I guess it’s safe to say I’ve outgrown that game. I’d definitely consider playing it again to refresh my memory, but I must confess, the thumb stick sensitivity in that game makes it next to impossible to aim properly with anything but an automatic rifle.
Aside from outgrowing a popular X-Box game, maybe there was some truth to what Alex said about Dujak being a hate-worthy character. He betrayed his tribe, he brought weapons into a peaceful town, and he made wisecracks at the guards for trying to arrest him. Unless there’s some mustard behind those remarks, those aren’t likeable qualities in a main character. The best kinds of protagonists are the ones we can sympathize with. That’s why we have a lot of heroes as protagonists rather than villains: because most of us can relate to being good people with hearts of gold. Mitch McLeod needed a massive overhaul in his character in order to make Occupy Wrestling as polished as it is today.
Dark Identity is just another potentially good idea that got lost in the shuffle of other projects. It hasn’t aged well since 2004/2005, so it won’t be made into a novel or short story. The lesson of the day: not everything you touch will turn to gold. Knowing the difference between diamonds and coal is something all writers need to do. I once heard an internet personality call it a “crap detector”. We all think our crap detectors are strong until we’re proven otherwise, but even then some authors will fight that uphill battle until the end. Listening to your peers (the helpful ones) is paramount to success as an author. We’ve got ears, say cheers!
***CREATIVE OUTPUT AND BOREDOM***
These days, I can’t really decide between having a lot of projects to do and having a small amount. I’m either bored out of my mind or overwhelmed to the point of chaos. I need to find a middle ground, but I’m no closer to finding it now than I was the past few weeks, where I had so little to do that I got bored easily. One of my solutions to this boredom is to write short stories for American Darkness 2 and Poison Tongue Tales 2 outside of the WSS. I did that for the first Poison Tongue Tales book back in 2015 during NaNoWriMo and it was a massive success. Perhaps I could do it again this time around, provided I have the energy for it. It turns out, though, that the next AD2 story I plan on writing fits in with the WSS prompt for the week, which is “Searing”.
***AMERICAN DARKNESS 2: WE ARE THE MACHINE***
Yes, you’ll notice that both American Darkness 2 and Poison Tongue Tales 2 have different subtitles than what I originally gave them. In the case of AD2, Black State could have so many different meanings that it could be misinterpreted. Now it’s called We Are the Machine. It sounds cool and nobody’s reading too much into its intended meaning. For this collection, the next story will be called “Street Warriors” (another title I’m considering changing) and it goes like this:
CHARACTERS:
1. Samir the Skull Crusher, Indian Street Brawler
2. Crackers the Clown, Evil Clown
3. Kristen Miranda, Runaway Teen
PROMPT CONFORMITY: Kristen starts the story by searching for shelter.
SYNOPSIS: Kristen runs away from home and finds herself in the darkest, dankest part of Paulson City. When she tries to warm up next to a garbage can fire, she’s confronted by Crackers the Clown, who claims that she doesn’t belong in these streets and needs to get the hell out. The only way Crackers will let Kristen stay is if she agrees to have sex with him, to which Samir the Skull Crusher intervenes, claiming to be the one who gets to have her. The two scary characters brawl while Kristen is cowering in the corner wishing she was home right now.
***POISON TONGUE TALES 2: THE RIGHT TO REMAIN PSYCHOTIC***
Here’s the story I plan on working on independently. It’s called “Mine All Mine” and it goes like this:
CHARACTERS:
1. Chris Buyatt, Capoeira Fighter
2. Michael Tyoni, Pyromancer
3. Nina Thomas, Politician
PROMPT CONFORMITY: To be announced.
SYNOPSIS: Chris and Michael’s race against each other leads them to the Black Dust Salt Mine, where videotaped evidence against Nina’s corruption is being secretly kept. Chris wants to bring the evidence to light while Michael wants to use his pyromancy to burn it and save Nina from embarrassment. The warrior and the wizard battle it out with Mayor Thomas watching in the background with a shotgun in hand.
***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***
With new characters come new drawings. The first on the barbecue rack is Chris Buyatt from Mine All Mine. He was previously used in my Final Fantasy videogame idea from 2002-2005 as Gail Reinhold’s ex-boyfriend, but has since been scrapped until now. Gail is now a part of the Poison Tongue Tales story “Zombie” and Chris will make his official debut in “Mine All Mine”.
***MOVIE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***
CRAZY K: Sensory what?!
DR. CUSHING: Sensory deprivation chamber. You will see nothing, you will hear nothing. Your mind will have nothing to feed upon but itself. It’s a tiny meal indeed. Hahahahaha!
-Tales From the Hood: Hardcore Convert-
August 10, 2017
Bullshit
VERSE 1
Packed like sardines in our death machines
Sanity bursting like a bomb at the seams
Tired and sore from the heavy metal war
Sweat oozing like a faucet from every pore
Somebody move it or I’m going to lose it
You have a gas pedal, just fucking use it
Nobody cares about the road construction
Everything else is whirling to destruction
CHORUS X4
Move it! Move it! Move it!
This is bullshit!
VERSE 2
Far from home in this cage of chrome
Rubberneck rednecks stalling on the road
Look at all the brutality on the pavement
He made a shit sandwich and fucking ate it
Bodies piled high and we all know why
Somebody’s head was stuck in the sky
Texting and talking on their fucking device
Crushing bones into piles of white rice
CHORUS X4
Move it! Move it! Move it!
This is bullshit!
VERSE 3
I’m finally home and tucked into bed
The next morning I’m sore and red
Everything hurts, my eyeballs burn
When will I stay home? When will I learn?
Public life is as addictive as cocaine
Is it worth all of the aches and pains?
Don’t wake me up until it’s noon
Don’t make me do stuff anytime soon
EXTENDED CHORUS
Move it! Move it! Move it!
This is bullshit!
Prove it! Prove it! Prove it!
I’m tired and sick!
Get up! Get up! Get up!
Fuck that shit!
Move it! Move it! Move it!
Eat a dick!
Packed like sardines in our death machines
Sanity bursting like a bomb at the seams
Tired and sore from the heavy metal war
Sweat oozing like a faucet from every pore
Somebody move it or I’m going to lose it
You have a gas pedal, just fucking use it
Nobody cares about the road construction
Everything else is whirling to destruction
CHORUS X4
Move it! Move it! Move it!
This is bullshit!
VERSE 2
Far from home in this cage of chrome
Rubberneck rednecks stalling on the road
Look at all the brutality on the pavement
He made a shit sandwich and fucking ate it
Bodies piled high and we all know why
Somebody’s head was stuck in the sky
Texting and talking on their fucking device
Crushing bones into piles of white rice
CHORUS X4
Move it! Move it! Move it!
This is bullshit!
VERSE 3
I’m finally home and tucked into bed
The next morning I’m sore and red
Everything hurts, my eyeballs burn
When will I stay home? When will I learn?
Public life is as addictive as cocaine
Is it worth all of the aches and pains?
Don’t wake me up until it’s noon
Don’t make me do stuff anytime soon
EXTENDED CHORUS
Move it! Move it! Move it!
This is bullshit!
Prove it! Prove it! Prove it!
I’m tired and sick!
Get up! Get up! Get up!
Fuck that shit!
Move it! Move it! Move it!
Eat a dick!
August 4, 2017
Blue Sky Blues
VERSE 1
You think the skies are your personal toilet?
You think you can heat the ocean and boil it?
You think your actions have no consequences?
You think we can solve this problem with fences?
Breathing the cleanest air is a god-given right
It never should have come to a verbal fight
It never should have resulted in casualties
That you bury in the ground so casually
CHORUS
More smoke in the air than a hookah bar
More poison in the water with oily tar
More politicians who don’t give a shit
These are blue sky blues, not a comedy bit
VERSE 2
Gas masks are not a fashion trend setter
Bigger trucks will not make things better
Lead doesn’t belong anywhere near water
You’ve led us all to the fucking slaughter
You answer to the world, owe them everything
You talk a lot, but haven’t said anything
As long as your bank account continues to grow
You’ll never be wrong, what the fuck do we know?
EXTENDED CHORUS 1
More smoke in the air than a hookah bar
More poison in the water with oily tar
More politicians who don’t give a shit
These are blue sky blues, not a comedy bit
Coal country blues, not a sitcom scene
Steel country blues, so fucking obscene
Pipeline blues, covering rivers in black
Blue sky blues, earth is under attack
BRIDGE
Climate change is as real as it gets
The safest bet, get paid until death
It’s not too late to clean this mess
This will be your ultimate test
EXTENDED CHORUS 2
More smoke in the air than a hookah bar
More poison in the water with oily tar
More politicians who don’t give a shit
These are blue sky blues, not a comedy bit
Drill baby drill, more people to kill
This ain’t no hoax, this is real, folks
The planet will drag you to hell with it
Find a cure for this pollution sickness
You think the skies are your personal toilet?
You think you can heat the ocean and boil it?
You think your actions have no consequences?
You think we can solve this problem with fences?
Breathing the cleanest air is a god-given right
It never should have come to a verbal fight
It never should have resulted in casualties
That you bury in the ground so casually
CHORUS
More smoke in the air than a hookah bar
More poison in the water with oily tar
More politicians who don’t give a shit
These are blue sky blues, not a comedy bit
VERSE 2
Gas masks are not a fashion trend setter
Bigger trucks will not make things better
Lead doesn’t belong anywhere near water
You’ve led us all to the fucking slaughter
You answer to the world, owe them everything
You talk a lot, but haven’t said anything
As long as your bank account continues to grow
You’ll never be wrong, what the fuck do we know?
EXTENDED CHORUS 1
More smoke in the air than a hookah bar
More poison in the water with oily tar
More politicians who don’t give a shit
These are blue sky blues, not a comedy bit
Coal country blues, not a sitcom scene
Steel country blues, so fucking obscene
Pipeline blues, covering rivers in black
Blue sky blues, earth is under attack
BRIDGE
Climate change is as real as it gets
The safest bet, get paid until death
It’s not too late to clean this mess
This will be your ultimate test
EXTENDED CHORUS 2
More smoke in the air than a hookah bar
More poison in the water with oily tar
More politicians who don’t give a shit
These are blue sky blues, not a comedy bit
Drill baby drill, more people to kill
This ain’t no hoax, this is real, folks
The planet will drag you to hell with it
Find a cure for this pollution sickness
One Million Faces
***ONE MILLION FACES***
One of my mother’s favorite nicknames for me is Sonshine (no, that’s not a typo), so it’s only natural that for my 32nd birthday she would buy me a copy of Anette Olzon’s solo album called “Shine”. Before her termination in 2012, Anette Olzon was the lead singer for Nightwish and Tarja Turunen’s replacement in that same band. Her solo album is a much softer departure from her work with Tuomas Holopainen’s symphonic metal band. I contemplated referring to Anette Olzon as the female Michael Bolton with her new soft rock sound, but I don’t know if she would take it as an insult or a compliment, so I decided to keep it to myself. Hehe! Anyways, my favorite track on the CD has easily become “One Million Faces”. I listen to that song more often than anything else on that album and it’s because of the melodic and sorrowful nature that I’ve grown attracted to in music recently. If you’re ever surfing You Tube, be sure to look up “One Million Faces” by Anette Olzon. Or better yet, buy her entire solo album and support her music career. She’s been through a rough breakup with both her ex-husband and her old band Nightwish, so she needs all the support she can get. There’s not one bad track on that CD, but you’ll really get sentimental about “One Million Faces”. These are the lyrics:
VERSE 1
Where are those hidden miracles
We once shared
The laughter in the night
No one knows how the story goes
Make believes
Hidden like a ghost
CHORUS
All I wanted in my life was you
Dreams and moments that was shared with you
One million faces but the one I knew
Were all a masquerade
One million faces
VERSE 2
In the dark
In the darkest night
All I hear are shadows from behind
Now I see all the things so clear
But my pain still remains the same
CHORUS
All I wanted in my life was you
Dreams and moments that was shared with you
One million faces but the one I knew
Were all a masquerade
One million faces
***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***
Normally, I begin my litany of self-promotions by talking about my next WSS contest entry. Yesterday evening, I already posted “The Golden Angel”, so that kind of spoils the surprise of it all. But with this new piece of superhero fiction comes new characters to draw. I’ve already drawn The Golden Angel himself and he looks like a weird hybrid between Goldust and Stardust from the WWE. The Dark Paladin, Goldie’s nemesis, is next on deck and he’s going to look just as terrifying as he was in that story, minus the maggot-infested dick.
***THE BEST IN THE WORLD: AT WHAT I HAVE NO IDEA***
If you follow me on Good Reads, you would have noticed that I deleted “Dana White: King of MMA” by June White from my reading list. I tried to read it earlier today, but I just couldn’t get into it. She repeats herself a lot, she has a boring writing style, and she tells instead of shows. I didn’t want to give her a one-star review because I generally don’t like giving those since they have the power to ruin an author’s reputation. So instead of dragging June White’s name through the mud, I decided my next nonfiction book should be a breath of fresh air: “The Best in the World: At What I Have No Idea” by Chris Jericho. Chris has always been a source of wisdom and entertainment in books past, so this third memoir of his should be just as exciting and fun.
***MOVIE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***
CRAZY K: Shut up! Shut the fuck up!
DR. CUSHING: Why should they, Jerome? Are they saying things you don’t like to hear?
CRAZY K: So now you’re going to blame all this shit on me? You trying to make me crazy, motherfucker? I don’t owe any responsibilities to these motherfuckers!
DR. CUSHING: But you are responsible, Jerome, for the lives you’ve taken and for the dreams you’ve turned into nightmares.
CRAZY K: Nightmares? Motherfucker, what about my nightmares? What about the nightmare I’ve lived in? What about the nightmare I’ve lived in since I was born in this motherfucker? Who’s responsible for that?
DR. CUSHING: I don’t know, Jerome, you tell me! Who is responsible? Your mother? Your father? Your teachers? The world? Who?!
CRAZY K: Yeah, that’s right! All those motherfuckers created me! So now I’m the motherfucking nightmare!
DR. CUSHING: The nightmare ends when you say it does, Jerome! You’ve got to take responsibility to wake up! You’ve got to take responsibility to break this chain!
CRAZY K: I’ve only got one fucking responsibility in this world and that’s me! That’s it, motherfucker! So everybody and everything that ain’t me ain’t shit! Do you understand me?!
DR. CUSHING: That’s a question best posed to yourself. I’m giving you a chance! I’m giving you a shot at redemption! Do you understand that?!
CRAZY K: I don’t give a fuck about any of these stupid motherfuckers! So what you do is stop fucking with my mind, man, and let me out of this motherfucker!
DR. CUSHING: There’s nothing to stop you, Jerome.
(Crazy K breaks free and puts Nurse Roland in a sleeper hold.)
DR. CUSHING: Jerome!
CRAZY K: Shut the fuck up! Shut up! You let me out of this motherfucker or I swear to God I’ll snap this bitch’s neck!
DR. CUSHING: Jerome, it’s not too late to be saved! You won’t get another chance!
CRAZY K: I don’t need no motherfucking chance! You know why?! ‘Cause I don’t give a fuck! I said I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a FUCK!
-Tales From the Hood: Hardcore Convert-
One of my mother’s favorite nicknames for me is Sonshine (no, that’s not a typo), so it’s only natural that for my 32nd birthday she would buy me a copy of Anette Olzon’s solo album called “Shine”. Before her termination in 2012, Anette Olzon was the lead singer for Nightwish and Tarja Turunen’s replacement in that same band. Her solo album is a much softer departure from her work with Tuomas Holopainen’s symphonic metal band. I contemplated referring to Anette Olzon as the female Michael Bolton with her new soft rock sound, but I don’t know if she would take it as an insult or a compliment, so I decided to keep it to myself. Hehe! Anyways, my favorite track on the CD has easily become “One Million Faces”. I listen to that song more often than anything else on that album and it’s because of the melodic and sorrowful nature that I’ve grown attracted to in music recently. If you’re ever surfing You Tube, be sure to look up “One Million Faces” by Anette Olzon. Or better yet, buy her entire solo album and support her music career. She’s been through a rough breakup with both her ex-husband and her old band Nightwish, so she needs all the support she can get. There’s not one bad track on that CD, but you’ll really get sentimental about “One Million Faces”. These are the lyrics:
VERSE 1
Where are those hidden miracles
We once shared
The laughter in the night
No one knows how the story goes
Make believes
Hidden like a ghost
CHORUS
All I wanted in my life was you
Dreams and moments that was shared with you
One million faces but the one I knew
Were all a masquerade
One million faces
VERSE 2
In the dark
In the darkest night
All I hear are shadows from behind
Now I see all the things so clear
But my pain still remains the same
CHORUS
All I wanted in my life was you
Dreams and moments that was shared with you
One million faces but the one I knew
Were all a masquerade
One million faces
***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***
Normally, I begin my litany of self-promotions by talking about my next WSS contest entry. Yesterday evening, I already posted “The Golden Angel”, so that kind of spoils the surprise of it all. But with this new piece of superhero fiction comes new characters to draw. I’ve already drawn The Golden Angel himself and he looks like a weird hybrid between Goldust and Stardust from the WWE. The Dark Paladin, Goldie’s nemesis, is next on deck and he’s going to look just as terrifying as he was in that story, minus the maggot-infested dick.
***THE BEST IN THE WORLD: AT WHAT I HAVE NO IDEA***
If you follow me on Good Reads, you would have noticed that I deleted “Dana White: King of MMA” by June White from my reading list. I tried to read it earlier today, but I just couldn’t get into it. She repeats herself a lot, she has a boring writing style, and she tells instead of shows. I didn’t want to give her a one-star review because I generally don’t like giving those since they have the power to ruin an author’s reputation. So instead of dragging June White’s name through the mud, I decided my next nonfiction book should be a breath of fresh air: “The Best in the World: At What I Have No Idea” by Chris Jericho. Chris has always been a source of wisdom and entertainment in books past, so this third memoir of his should be just as exciting and fun.
***MOVIE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***
CRAZY K: Shut up! Shut the fuck up!
DR. CUSHING: Why should they, Jerome? Are they saying things you don’t like to hear?
CRAZY K: So now you’re going to blame all this shit on me? You trying to make me crazy, motherfucker? I don’t owe any responsibilities to these motherfuckers!
DR. CUSHING: But you are responsible, Jerome, for the lives you’ve taken and for the dreams you’ve turned into nightmares.
CRAZY K: Nightmares? Motherfucker, what about my nightmares? What about the nightmare I’ve lived in? What about the nightmare I’ve lived in since I was born in this motherfucker? Who’s responsible for that?
DR. CUSHING: I don’t know, Jerome, you tell me! Who is responsible? Your mother? Your father? Your teachers? The world? Who?!
CRAZY K: Yeah, that’s right! All those motherfuckers created me! So now I’m the motherfucking nightmare!
DR. CUSHING: The nightmare ends when you say it does, Jerome! You’ve got to take responsibility to wake up! You’ve got to take responsibility to break this chain!
CRAZY K: I’ve only got one fucking responsibility in this world and that’s me! That’s it, motherfucker! So everybody and everything that ain’t me ain’t shit! Do you understand me?!
DR. CUSHING: That’s a question best posed to yourself. I’m giving you a chance! I’m giving you a shot at redemption! Do you understand that?!
CRAZY K: I don’t give a fuck about any of these stupid motherfuckers! So what you do is stop fucking with my mind, man, and let me out of this motherfucker!
DR. CUSHING: There’s nothing to stop you, Jerome.
(Crazy K breaks free and puts Nurse Roland in a sleeper hold.)
DR. CUSHING: Jerome!
CRAZY K: Shut the fuck up! Shut up! You let me out of this motherfucker or I swear to God I’ll snap this bitch’s neck!
DR. CUSHING: Jerome, it’s not too late to be saved! You won’t get another chance!
CRAZY K: I don’t need no motherfucking chance! You know why?! ‘Cause I don’t give a fuck! I said I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a fuck! I don’t give a FUCK!
-Tales From the Hood: Hardcore Convert-
August 3, 2017
The Golden Angel
The Golden Angel sat hunched over on a tree stump with a fiery look in his wild eyes. His bright yellow spandex, his dazzling angel wings, his flowing blond locks, they were part of an image that was all for nothing. He kicked a stone across the dirt into a nearby lake as he thought about what Pastor Jane had said over those airwaves. All of those homophobic slurs, every suggestion of violence, every invocation of hellfire and brimstone for the LGBT community, they caused his blood to boil like a witch’s cauldron. He kicked even more stones into the lake, every shot more aggressive than the last. Goldie even pounded the side of the stump with his fist and sat there in his grumpy state.
Normally the sounds of a woman screaming for help would send Goldie into an adrenaline fueled frenzy in an attempt to be the daring superhero he once was. With super strength and the power of flight, he could have won those fights in record time. But all he did was place a fist under his chin and stew angrily. The woman’s screams were more ear-piercing by the second and Goldie’s indifference turned to irritation. “What the hell’s going on around here?” he asked rhetorically.
Sure enough, a woman in gray sweatpants and a cyan hooded sweatshirt came screaming like hell as she leapt into the Golden Angel’s hulking arms. “Help me!” she cried. “He’s after me! The Dark Paladin is after me! He wants to give me his demon baby! Dear God, help me!”
Behind the drenched tears and bubbling snot of sorrow, Goldie recognized that face as clear as day: Mia Jane, the pastor’s twenty-something daughter. Same long black hair, same dimpled face, same gray eyes, and the same silver crucifix around her neck. Goldie glared at her before dumping her on the ground and causing her to crab walk backwards into another stump. “You’ve got some serious balls asking for my help, Miss Jane. Oh wait a minute, I forgot, women can’t have balls because that’s just an excuse to shower with little girls in the locker room. That is what your father said on the radio the other day, right?”
“Listen, Goldie, I’m begging you, please!” said Mia on her knees with her hands together prayer-style. “I’m sorry for everything my dad said about you and your…people. But you have to help me!”
“My people? What do I look like to you, a fucking alien?!” snapped Goldie as he shot up to his feet. “You think gay people like me are invaders from another planet? Oh wait a minute, they’re just Satan’s creations, which is something else your genius dad said.” He approached her with more muscle in his step. “You know what else he said? He was the one who outed me on national television! He’s the reason I’m hiding out here! What good is being a superhero if I can’t live in the fucking city where all the nasty shit is going on?! In fact, how do I even know The Dark Paladin is out here?! I didn’t hear him at all!”
“He’s here, Goldie. I saw him chase me. You have to believe me!” said Mia through a stream of tears not unlike the one rolling through the forest. “I was out here on my morning run and he flew right in front of me. He said he wanted to…” Her sentence was interrupted by an even bigger storm of tears.
Goldie’s furrowed eyebrows straightened when he knelt beside Mia and placed his pink gloved hand on her shoulder. “I desperately want to be a superhero again. But as long as your dad is spreading his ignorant bullshit around, nobody will let me in. The gay bar has been burned to the ground, transgender folks are being lynched, and I’m just another piece of this puzzle. If I wasn’t for my powers, I’d be a dead motherfucker by now. Just another footnote in Paulson City history. Just another body freezing at the morgue.”
“You’re more than that,” sobbed Mia. “You were an inspiration to us all. And now you’re just going to throw it all away because your feelings got hurt?”
Goldie’s hand slowly traveled up the back of her neck before he grabbed a handful of hair and snapped, “This is more than just emotions! People are dying! People are being beaten! They’re being tortured because of your father’s work! You’re damn right my feelings are hurt! But I bet you’ll be the quintessential tough bitch when it’s a member of your family that has to suffer through the torture!”
Trying to steady her chattering teeth from both the cold morning air and her sorrow, Mia said, “People are dying anyways because you’re out here doing nothing! You’re too good for them! Not everyone in the city is like my father!”
“But you are, Mia. I know you are,” whispered Goldie angrily. “You hang on his every word. You claim to be about love and honor while casting aside those who dare to be different, those who dare to be themselves. I’ve seen a million of your kind come and go, but I’d never thought you’d give up on your city’s only superhero just because you don’t like the fact that I fuck men!”
Mia’s brow furrowed as she smacked away Goldie’s clutch on her hair. “Who’s giving up on who?”
The two of them shared a moment of intense glares when the Golden Angel was blasted off his feet and into the creek, suffering a burn mark on his chest. Mia Jane screamed in horror once again and kept Goldie conscious long enough for him to pull his face out of the water to take in the view of The Dark Paladin. There he was with bulging red muscles, black metal armor, devilish horns, and yellow fangs dripping with the blood and flesh of a forest critter, potentially a squirrel.
“Miss Jane, I personally want to thank you for leading me to the Golden Angel. This couldn’t have been more perfect!” chuckled the Dark Paladin in a throaty voice.
Goldie glared evilly at Mia and whispered, “You bitch! This better not be true!”
“It’s not true! I would never do that! He’s lying!” yelled Mia. “I didn’t even know you were out here!”
“Bullshit!” roared Goldie as he leapt to his feet and took to the skies with his flapping angel wings. Every time Dark Paladin’s eyes radiated with red energy and he shot another scorching beam, Goldie would punch and kick them away like they were dodge balls. Having had enough of the demon’s laughter, the angel zoomed down upon him and threw heavy fists against his already contorted face.
Not one punch cracked bones or loosened teeth. “Is that the best you can do?” Darkie taunted. “Why don’t you try slapping me on the ass instead, lover boy?!” After throwing a mock kiss Goldie’s way, the superhero kneed Darkie in the balls and doubled him over, but only got another throaty laugh for his efforts. “Shouldn’t you take me out to dinner first?”
Dark Paladin attempted an ear clap, but Goldie ducted down and threw rapid fire punches against his stomach, each of them more powerful than the last, some of them cracking the metal armor, but not ribs like he intended. Goldie military pressed the Dark Paladin in the air and slammed him down against a gigantic stone, crumbling it into powder. The demon refused to sell his pain and instead gave a wicked grin.
“I’d say you fight like a sissy, but that’d be a little redundant, don’t you think?” said Darkie with a wink before throwing a knee against Goldie’s ribs and sending him rolling into the creek once more.
Mia Jane shouted, “No!” and ran by her would-be hero’s side. “Are you okay? Please be okay! I never wanted this to happen!”
“Get off of me!” shouted Goldie as he stood back up and attempted to dive bomb Darkie again with flying fists and feet. Instead all he got was a head butt to the skull upon landing. Dark Paladin grabbed the Golden Angel by his shin and twirled him so around so powerfully that the resulting whirlwind took Mia off her feet. Darkie slammed his nemesis against multiple trees and shattered them into beauty bark before tossing Goldie’s limp body on the ground, bloody and bruised.
Mia crab walked backwards in a shaky attempt to get away from the stalking Dark Paladin, who grunted at her, “Time to get my jollies, little lady! You’re giving birth to my child whether you want to or not! Don’t even bother going to one of those special clinics afterwards. Daddy dearest wouldn’t approve!” The last sentence was accentuated with a wink before the Dark Paladin dropped his metal pants and revealed not only his worm-infested meat, but also a familiar crucifix tattoo on his shin.
“D…Dad? Is that you? No…no, it can’t be! That’s impossible! You can’t be the Dark Paladin!” cried Mia while pounding the leaves on the ground with her fists.
“That’s right, honey! The Golden Angel ain’t going to help you this time! Not that he ever would, the little coward! Open wide, sweetheart!”
The Golden Angel’s vision was stained with blood and pieces of dirt, but he was conscious long enough to hear the entire conversation. It all made perfect sense to him now why Mia’s demonic father wanted to get rid of him. All the propaganda. All the lies. All the hate. Every one of the newly minted Dark Paladin’s dangerous words haunted Goldie’s mind like schizophrenic voices. Every time he said faggot, queer, or hell in the same sentence lit a hellish flame inside Goldie’s belly, a flame that burned brighter than the bloody pain he was feeling.
He watched Mia Jane crouch on the ground and close her legs as tightly as possible. He watched Dark Paladin’s rotten meat get harder and larger with every close step he took. The more Goldie watched, the more his heart was ready to explode in a volcanic burst. His eyes welled up with hot tears, his blood burned like acid, and his head pounded with a sledgehammer’s fury. He saw red for more reasons than Dark Paladin’s skin and the blood in his eyes.
In one swift motion ignorant of pain, Goldie flapped his wings and buzzed over to the Dark Paladin with a sharp stone in his hand. Before the demon knew what hit him, Goldie smashed the flat stone against Darkie’s groin and sliced off his monstrous genitals. Screaming agony and bloody fountains aside, no genitals meant no demonic birth, and no demonic birth meant the Dark Paladin’s plans for world conquest were ruined.
“You haven’t won shit, Golden Angel! I’ll see you in hell yet!” snarled the Dark Paladin before elbowing Goldie in the chest and sending him rolling backwards. With blood pumping out of the demon at a rapid rate, Darkie held his wound and flew away, dropping pus, maggots, and redness onto the ground below him. Mia Jane had been saved…for now.
The grateful preacher’s daughter, still bubbling with tears and snot, crawled quickly towards the downed Golden Angel and hugged him tightly, unintentionally aggravating his bloody wounds. “Thank you, Goldie! Thank you so much! I’m so sorry everything happened the way it did!”
Groaning painfully, Goldie wiped the blood off of his mouth and said, “Don’t be sorry, Mia. This isn’t over by a long shot. He’ll come back stronger than ever and we have to be ready.”
Mia gently stroked Goldie’s battered chest and said, “I’ll tell everyone the truth. The whole city will know who my father really is. I promise I will undo the damage he has done! This is not the loving priest I know! This is a monster!”
“You? You’re going to bring the people of Paulson City together? You’re going to end the hatred?!” scoffed Goldie. The two of them shared an intense stare together before the superhero said, “You’d better do it, Mia. You’re going to use your loudest voice possible. All that hellfire and brimstone crap? You’re going to use it to end this senselessness. You’re going to be the voice for positive change. You’re going to be the voice of the voiceless. Are you ready for that shit?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, Goldie. Ready as I’ll ever be!” said Mia as she wiped the tears and snot from her face with her sweater sleeve.
Normally the sounds of a woman screaming for help would send Goldie into an adrenaline fueled frenzy in an attempt to be the daring superhero he once was. With super strength and the power of flight, he could have won those fights in record time. But all he did was place a fist under his chin and stew angrily. The woman’s screams were more ear-piercing by the second and Goldie’s indifference turned to irritation. “What the hell’s going on around here?” he asked rhetorically.
Sure enough, a woman in gray sweatpants and a cyan hooded sweatshirt came screaming like hell as she leapt into the Golden Angel’s hulking arms. “Help me!” she cried. “He’s after me! The Dark Paladin is after me! He wants to give me his demon baby! Dear God, help me!”
Behind the drenched tears and bubbling snot of sorrow, Goldie recognized that face as clear as day: Mia Jane, the pastor’s twenty-something daughter. Same long black hair, same dimpled face, same gray eyes, and the same silver crucifix around her neck. Goldie glared at her before dumping her on the ground and causing her to crab walk backwards into another stump. “You’ve got some serious balls asking for my help, Miss Jane. Oh wait a minute, I forgot, women can’t have balls because that’s just an excuse to shower with little girls in the locker room. That is what your father said on the radio the other day, right?”
“Listen, Goldie, I’m begging you, please!” said Mia on her knees with her hands together prayer-style. “I’m sorry for everything my dad said about you and your…people. But you have to help me!”
“My people? What do I look like to you, a fucking alien?!” snapped Goldie as he shot up to his feet. “You think gay people like me are invaders from another planet? Oh wait a minute, they’re just Satan’s creations, which is something else your genius dad said.” He approached her with more muscle in his step. “You know what else he said? He was the one who outed me on national television! He’s the reason I’m hiding out here! What good is being a superhero if I can’t live in the fucking city where all the nasty shit is going on?! In fact, how do I even know The Dark Paladin is out here?! I didn’t hear him at all!”
“He’s here, Goldie. I saw him chase me. You have to believe me!” said Mia through a stream of tears not unlike the one rolling through the forest. “I was out here on my morning run and he flew right in front of me. He said he wanted to…” Her sentence was interrupted by an even bigger storm of tears.
Goldie’s furrowed eyebrows straightened when he knelt beside Mia and placed his pink gloved hand on her shoulder. “I desperately want to be a superhero again. But as long as your dad is spreading his ignorant bullshit around, nobody will let me in. The gay bar has been burned to the ground, transgender folks are being lynched, and I’m just another piece of this puzzle. If I wasn’t for my powers, I’d be a dead motherfucker by now. Just another footnote in Paulson City history. Just another body freezing at the morgue.”
“You’re more than that,” sobbed Mia. “You were an inspiration to us all. And now you’re just going to throw it all away because your feelings got hurt?”
Goldie’s hand slowly traveled up the back of her neck before he grabbed a handful of hair and snapped, “This is more than just emotions! People are dying! People are being beaten! They’re being tortured because of your father’s work! You’re damn right my feelings are hurt! But I bet you’ll be the quintessential tough bitch when it’s a member of your family that has to suffer through the torture!”
Trying to steady her chattering teeth from both the cold morning air and her sorrow, Mia said, “People are dying anyways because you’re out here doing nothing! You’re too good for them! Not everyone in the city is like my father!”
“But you are, Mia. I know you are,” whispered Goldie angrily. “You hang on his every word. You claim to be about love and honor while casting aside those who dare to be different, those who dare to be themselves. I’ve seen a million of your kind come and go, but I’d never thought you’d give up on your city’s only superhero just because you don’t like the fact that I fuck men!”
Mia’s brow furrowed as she smacked away Goldie’s clutch on her hair. “Who’s giving up on who?”
The two of them shared a moment of intense glares when the Golden Angel was blasted off his feet and into the creek, suffering a burn mark on his chest. Mia Jane screamed in horror once again and kept Goldie conscious long enough for him to pull his face out of the water to take in the view of The Dark Paladin. There he was with bulging red muscles, black metal armor, devilish horns, and yellow fangs dripping with the blood and flesh of a forest critter, potentially a squirrel.
“Miss Jane, I personally want to thank you for leading me to the Golden Angel. This couldn’t have been more perfect!” chuckled the Dark Paladin in a throaty voice.
Goldie glared evilly at Mia and whispered, “You bitch! This better not be true!”
“It’s not true! I would never do that! He’s lying!” yelled Mia. “I didn’t even know you were out here!”
“Bullshit!” roared Goldie as he leapt to his feet and took to the skies with his flapping angel wings. Every time Dark Paladin’s eyes radiated with red energy and he shot another scorching beam, Goldie would punch and kick them away like they were dodge balls. Having had enough of the demon’s laughter, the angel zoomed down upon him and threw heavy fists against his already contorted face.
Not one punch cracked bones or loosened teeth. “Is that the best you can do?” Darkie taunted. “Why don’t you try slapping me on the ass instead, lover boy?!” After throwing a mock kiss Goldie’s way, the superhero kneed Darkie in the balls and doubled him over, but only got another throaty laugh for his efforts. “Shouldn’t you take me out to dinner first?”
Dark Paladin attempted an ear clap, but Goldie ducted down and threw rapid fire punches against his stomach, each of them more powerful than the last, some of them cracking the metal armor, but not ribs like he intended. Goldie military pressed the Dark Paladin in the air and slammed him down against a gigantic stone, crumbling it into powder. The demon refused to sell his pain and instead gave a wicked grin.
“I’d say you fight like a sissy, but that’d be a little redundant, don’t you think?” said Darkie with a wink before throwing a knee against Goldie’s ribs and sending him rolling into the creek once more.
Mia Jane shouted, “No!” and ran by her would-be hero’s side. “Are you okay? Please be okay! I never wanted this to happen!”
“Get off of me!” shouted Goldie as he stood back up and attempted to dive bomb Darkie again with flying fists and feet. Instead all he got was a head butt to the skull upon landing. Dark Paladin grabbed the Golden Angel by his shin and twirled him so around so powerfully that the resulting whirlwind took Mia off her feet. Darkie slammed his nemesis against multiple trees and shattered them into beauty bark before tossing Goldie’s limp body on the ground, bloody and bruised.
Mia crab walked backwards in a shaky attempt to get away from the stalking Dark Paladin, who grunted at her, “Time to get my jollies, little lady! You’re giving birth to my child whether you want to or not! Don’t even bother going to one of those special clinics afterwards. Daddy dearest wouldn’t approve!” The last sentence was accentuated with a wink before the Dark Paladin dropped his metal pants and revealed not only his worm-infested meat, but also a familiar crucifix tattoo on his shin.
“D…Dad? Is that you? No…no, it can’t be! That’s impossible! You can’t be the Dark Paladin!” cried Mia while pounding the leaves on the ground with her fists.
“That’s right, honey! The Golden Angel ain’t going to help you this time! Not that he ever would, the little coward! Open wide, sweetheart!”
The Golden Angel’s vision was stained with blood and pieces of dirt, but he was conscious long enough to hear the entire conversation. It all made perfect sense to him now why Mia’s demonic father wanted to get rid of him. All the propaganda. All the lies. All the hate. Every one of the newly minted Dark Paladin’s dangerous words haunted Goldie’s mind like schizophrenic voices. Every time he said faggot, queer, or hell in the same sentence lit a hellish flame inside Goldie’s belly, a flame that burned brighter than the bloody pain he was feeling.
He watched Mia Jane crouch on the ground and close her legs as tightly as possible. He watched Dark Paladin’s rotten meat get harder and larger with every close step he took. The more Goldie watched, the more his heart was ready to explode in a volcanic burst. His eyes welled up with hot tears, his blood burned like acid, and his head pounded with a sledgehammer’s fury. He saw red for more reasons than Dark Paladin’s skin and the blood in his eyes.
In one swift motion ignorant of pain, Goldie flapped his wings and buzzed over to the Dark Paladin with a sharp stone in his hand. Before the demon knew what hit him, Goldie smashed the flat stone against Darkie’s groin and sliced off his monstrous genitals. Screaming agony and bloody fountains aside, no genitals meant no demonic birth, and no demonic birth meant the Dark Paladin’s plans for world conquest were ruined.
“You haven’t won shit, Golden Angel! I’ll see you in hell yet!” snarled the Dark Paladin before elbowing Goldie in the chest and sending him rolling backwards. With blood pumping out of the demon at a rapid rate, Darkie held his wound and flew away, dropping pus, maggots, and redness onto the ground below him. Mia Jane had been saved…for now.
The grateful preacher’s daughter, still bubbling with tears and snot, crawled quickly towards the downed Golden Angel and hugged him tightly, unintentionally aggravating his bloody wounds. “Thank you, Goldie! Thank you so much! I’m so sorry everything happened the way it did!”
Groaning painfully, Goldie wiped the blood off of his mouth and said, “Don’t be sorry, Mia. This isn’t over by a long shot. He’ll come back stronger than ever and we have to be ready.”
Mia gently stroked Goldie’s battered chest and said, “I’ll tell everyone the truth. The whole city will know who my father really is. I promise I will undo the damage he has done! This is not the loving priest I know! This is a monster!”
“You? You’re going to bring the people of Paulson City together? You’re going to end the hatred?!” scoffed Goldie. The two of them shared an intense stare together before the superhero said, “You’d better do it, Mia. You’re going to use your loudest voice possible. All that hellfire and brimstone crap? You’re going to use it to end this senselessness. You’re going to be the voice for positive change. You’re going to be the voice of the voiceless. Are you ready for that shit?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, Goldie. Ready as I’ll ever be!” said Mia as she wiped the tears and snot from her face with her sweater sleeve.
July 31, 2017
Child Bride
VERSE 1
You cover it up when you forcibly fuck
You go on a search for the nearest church
To get wed and to get inside of her bed
To put traumatic visions inside of her head
CHORUS
Where’s the pride for the child bride?
We all know what you’re trying to hide
You’ll never keep this all on the inside
Justice will be served by those who cried
VERSE 2
Will having nine children be enough for you?
Having a million arguments about nothing new?
She never had a choice, you took her voice
You rave and rant as you take off your pants
EXTENDED CHORUS
Where’s the pride for the child bride?
We all know what you’re trying to hide
You’ll never keep this all on the inside
Justice will be served by those who cried
Where is the pride for the soul that died?
When will we fight for all that is right?
This is entrapment in the worst sense
This is enslavement with the worst sex
VERSE 3
Your secret is out, so you scream and shout
There was never a question or even a doubt
The child bride has spoken her damn mind
All lights on you, they needed to be shined
Stutter and sputter, your shit melts like butter
You piss your pants and do a little dance
You plead guilty and get a hundred years
While the child bride keeps living in fear
EXTENDED CHORUS
Where’s the pride for the child bride?
We all know what you’re trying to hide
You’ll never keep this all on the inside
Justice will be served by those who cried
Where is the pride for the soul that died?
When will we fight for all that is right?
This is entrapment in the worst sense
This is enslavement with the worst sex
You cover it up when you forcibly fuck
You go on a search for the nearest church
To get wed and to get inside of her bed
To put traumatic visions inside of her head
CHORUS
Where’s the pride for the child bride?
We all know what you’re trying to hide
You’ll never keep this all on the inside
Justice will be served by those who cried
VERSE 2
Will having nine children be enough for you?
Having a million arguments about nothing new?
She never had a choice, you took her voice
You rave and rant as you take off your pants
EXTENDED CHORUS
Where’s the pride for the child bride?
We all know what you’re trying to hide
You’ll never keep this all on the inside
Justice will be served by those who cried
Where is the pride for the soul that died?
When will we fight for all that is right?
This is entrapment in the worst sense
This is enslavement with the worst sex
VERSE 3
Your secret is out, so you scream and shout
There was never a question or even a doubt
The child bride has spoken her damn mind
All lights on you, they needed to be shined
Stutter and sputter, your shit melts like butter
You piss your pants and do a little dance
You plead guilty and get a hundred years
While the child bride keeps living in fear
EXTENDED CHORUS
Where’s the pride for the child bride?
We all know what you’re trying to hide
You’ll never keep this all on the inside
Justice will be served by those who cried
Where is the pride for the soul that died?
When will we fight for all that is right?
This is entrapment in the worst sense
This is enslavement with the worst sex
July 30, 2017
Where's My Free Stuff?
Colleen Holt had been on autopilot since she opened the Red Apple Convenience Store for the day. Her eyes were dark with sleepiness, her posture was hunched over, and she barely remembered the name of the man in the camouflage jacket who purchased a newspaper with a debit card. Yes, the card said Richard T. Betts, but what made him so different from any other putty faced customer that came in here? Colleen even let the man read the newspaper at the counter. She was so sleepy that she didn’t think to ask him why he would want to stay here. As long as Richard whatever-the-fuck didn’t bother anybody else, Miss Holt would be cool with it.
The one person who could snap Colleen out of her trance sauntered through the door and ran the bell. “Hey, Joey, how are you doing?” she asked in a perky voice. The gentleman she was referring to was Joey Elkins, a heavily bearded millennial with a ripped Pink Floyd T-shirt barely covering his chubby gut, blue fleece pajama pants that were too high for his ankles, and flip flops that showed off his yellow toenails. When asked how he was doing, Joey gave a slight wave and a half smile to his favorite clerk.
Whenever Colleen saw him walk through the door on a daily basis, his presence reminded her of the many members of her family who had a mental disability of some kind, most of which were confined to mental hospitals with nothing to do all day long. A singular tear dropped down Colleen’s dainty face whenever she thought of Joey in that way. That one drop of water represented a schizophrenic aunt, a bipolar sister, or a depressed father who attempted suicide twice in his life. Miss Holt didn’t want Joey to suffer the same fate, so she made it a point to be as nice to him as possible despite the fact that she hated working here.
“Just the Snickers bar and the can of Coke for today?” asked Colleen with a smile when Joey Elkins approached the counter with those two items. With a nod of the customer’s fuzzy head, the clerk rang him up and announced the prices as two dollars even. When Joey pulled an EBT card out of his lint-filled pocket, that was when Richard pulled his attention away from the newspaper and gave him a wicked glare. Colleen ran the card and it successfully went through. After giving Joey his receipt, she said in her cheeriest voice, “Have a good one, buddy!”
“Good to know my tax dollars are being well spent,” said Richard sarcastically.
“Excuse me?” asked Colleen with her arms folded defensively.
“Oh, nothing,” continued Richard. “It’s just that normally when you buy something from a convenience store, you do it with your own fucking money. There is no free lunch in this country. You’ve got to work your ass off and earn everything you get. You can’t live off of the hard labor of others like a goddamn leech!”
As soon as Joey trembled with anxiety, Colleen tried to step in with, “Excuse me, sir, but you can’t…”
Richard held an open palm to Colleen’s face and said, “Uh-uh! You’re not going to cut me off. This is a free country and I’m invoking my first amendment rights. There’s no safe space for you or this mooch. So step back for a few minutes and let me get this off my chest.”
Colleen felt the harshness radiating off of Richard like a nuclear rod and slowly backed away. She knew she should do something about this coldhearted oratory. It was not only her job as a convenience store clerk, but also a human being with at least a shred of decency in her body. The anxious energy in her gut told her to back off. Perhaps she was the next one to be locked in a padded cell. Maybe Joey would make it there first since he was already trembling like an earthquake going off in his body.
“As I was saying,” said Richard with a switchblade tongue as he pointed at Joey repeatedly. “If you think you’re going to live off of my hard work and take food off of my table, you’re sadly mistaken! Ditch the pajama pants and the crappy T-shirt and get some real clothes so that someone might actually hire you! You’ve got to make your own money and stop expecting society to baby you through life!”
As Joey’s convulsing worsened to where he whimpered, Colleen held up her finger and said, “To be fair…”
“Jesus Christ, lady, what now?!” snapped Richard.
“To be fair…” said Colleen in a shaky voice before clearing her throat. “Welfare and social security are only a small part of the federal budget. We…we…” After being told to spit it out by Richard, she said, “We spent more on war than we do anything else.”
“War?! War?! You think we spend too much money on war?!” shouted Richard. “Check out the jacket, missy! I used to be in the army! We need war! There are terrorists out there who want to bomb the shit out of us and you want to just sit back and do nothing?! That’s extremely disrespectful to our military! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! You want to talk about people getting free shit?! Where’s my free shit?! Huh?! Where’s my social security?! I served overseas and you don’t want to give me a damn thing?!”
Colleen just wanted to sink into the ground and cry for the rest of her life. She was done for. Joey was done for. This cold-blooded snake was going to send them both into a nervous breakdown. Not that he’d ever call 9-1-1 except to report an alleged abuse of the social security system. Just when her nervous system was about to shatter like peanut brittle, she overheard Joey pulling the tab on his Coke.
“What?! Uh-uh! No way!” bellowed Richard. “That’s my Coca-Cola! My tax dollars paid for that Coke, so you’re going to give me a drink! As a matter of fact, give me the whole fucking thing while you’re at it!”
Ask and ye shall receive. Joey took a sip of Coke and spit a brown sugary mist all over Richard’s now drenched face. Seeing that image brought tears to Colleen’s eyes, but they were tears of laughter. “That was awesome!” she said with a newfound sense of courage. “Give me five, buddy!” The two high-fived and their anxieties were replaced with comical joy. No more shaking. No more hurting (except for their ribcages). Just solidarity and sweetness between two friends.
Richard, on the other hand, was trembling for a different reason than anxiety. He seethed silently as he grabbed a paper towel and slowly wiped the liquid candy off of his face. He didn’t even care that his cheeks were still sticky with soda. He gritted his teeth and growled like a wolf before attempting to lunge at Joey. He would have had his hands wrapped around the kid’s neck if it wasn’t for Colleen diving across the counter and acting as a barricade between Richard and Joey.
“I’m going to beat your fucking ass, you fucking jerk!” roared Richard as he was being held back by Colleen, whose anxiety had been replaced with lava hot adrenaline. She didn’t care that the man was twice her size; there was no chance in hell he was going to let him hurt her favorite customer. “Let go of me, damn it! I’m going to kill him!”
“Stop it! Stop it!” screamed Colleen and Richard suddenly discontinued his struggle. “You are way out of line, Mister! You can have your free speech and whatever, but you are not entitled to beat the shit out of a mentally disabled man! You know what?! I’ve made up my mind! You’re blackballed from this store! I have your face on the security cameras! I have your credit card information! Your name is Richard T. Betts and you’re never coming back here again! If you do, I’ll have the police come and take you away! Now get the fuck out of my store!” Colleen never trembled so hard in her life. Her heart never beat so quickly. Her head never ached that badly.
Richard spit on the floor and said, “Good, I don’t want to come back to this dump anyways. In fact, I hope this place burns to the ground with both of you trapped inside!” Colleen’s evil stare refused to change in the midst of this bold threat. Nonetheless, Mr. Betts pointed at the teary-eyed Joey and said, “And you! If I ever see you on the streets again, I’m going to beat your fucking ass!” The ex-soldier stormed off and bumped his shoulder in the door on his way out.
Colleen’s expression softened when she saw Joey’s tears multiply and snot building up in his nostrils. “What a jerk! Are you okay, buddy?”
“N…No!” sobbed Joey Elkins, who then received a tight hug and a kiss on top of his shaved head from the equally teary Colleen Holt.
The two of them just stood there hugging it out and crying on each other’s shoulders. Colleen gently whispered, “It’ll be okay, Joey. It’ll all be okay. He’s never coming back again. I promise I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”
“Why do people have to be mean to each other? All I wanted was something to eat and drink!” quivered Joey.
“I know, buddy. I know. I would never look down on you for using a food stamp card. You’re too sweet to me,” said Colleen. She barely noticed a customer standing at the counter with a case of beer tapping his foot impatiently.
She snapped at him, “Hey! Give us a minute! You’ll get your goddamn beer soon enough! Jesus Christ!” She continued to hold Joey in her arms and whisper, “I’m sorry this happened to you. I really am.”
The impatient customer cursed and walked out the door. Colleen didn’t give two shits and a flying fuck. Comforting Joey and making sure he wasn’t alone in this world was more important than a case of beer…and even more important than Richard Betts’s precious tax dollars.
The one person who could snap Colleen out of her trance sauntered through the door and ran the bell. “Hey, Joey, how are you doing?” she asked in a perky voice. The gentleman she was referring to was Joey Elkins, a heavily bearded millennial with a ripped Pink Floyd T-shirt barely covering his chubby gut, blue fleece pajama pants that were too high for his ankles, and flip flops that showed off his yellow toenails. When asked how he was doing, Joey gave a slight wave and a half smile to his favorite clerk.
Whenever Colleen saw him walk through the door on a daily basis, his presence reminded her of the many members of her family who had a mental disability of some kind, most of which were confined to mental hospitals with nothing to do all day long. A singular tear dropped down Colleen’s dainty face whenever she thought of Joey in that way. That one drop of water represented a schizophrenic aunt, a bipolar sister, or a depressed father who attempted suicide twice in his life. Miss Holt didn’t want Joey to suffer the same fate, so she made it a point to be as nice to him as possible despite the fact that she hated working here.
“Just the Snickers bar and the can of Coke for today?” asked Colleen with a smile when Joey Elkins approached the counter with those two items. With a nod of the customer’s fuzzy head, the clerk rang him up and announced the prices as two dollars even. When Joey pulled an EBT card out of his lint-filled pocket, that was when Richard pulled his attention away from the newspaper and gave him a wicked glare. Colleen ran the card and it successfully went through. After giving Joey his receipt, she said in her cheeriest voice, “Have a good one, buddy!”
“Good to know my tax dollars are being well spent,” said Richard sarcastically.
“Excuse me?” asked Colleen with her arms folded defensively.
“Oh, nothing,” continued Richard. “It’s just that normally when you buy something from a convenience store, you do it with your own fucking money. There is no free lunch in this country. You’ve got to work your ass off and earn everything you get. You can’t live off of the hard labor of others like a goddamn leech!”
As soon as Joey trembled with anxiety, Colleen tried to step in with, “Excuse me, sir, but you can’t…”
Richard held an open palm to Colleen’s face and said, “Uh-uh! You’re not going to cut me off. This is a free country and I’m invoking my first amendment rights. There’s no safe space for you or this mooch. So step back for a few minutes and let me get this off my chest.”
Colleen felt the harshness radiating off of Richard like a nuclear rod and slowly backed away. She knew she should do something about this coldhearted oratory. It was not only her job as a convenience store clerk, but also a human being with at least a shred of decency in her body. The anxious energy in her gut told her to back off. Perhaps she was the next one to be locked in a padded cell. Maybe Joey would make it there first since he was already trembling like an earthquake going off in his body.
“As I was saying,” said Richard with a switchblade tongue as he pointed at Joey repeatedly. “If you think you’re going to live off of my hard work and take food off of my table, you’re sadly mistaken! Ditch the pajama pants and the crappy T-shirt and get some real clothes so that someone might actually hire you! You’ve got to make your own money and stop expecting society to baby you through life!”
As Joey’s convulsing worsened to where he whimpered, Colleen held up her finger and said, “To be fair…”
“Jesus Christ, lady, what now?!” snapped Richard.
“To be fair…” said Colleen in a shaky voice before clearing her throat. “Welfare and social security are only a small part of the federal budget. We…we…” After being told to spit it out by Richard, she said, “We spent more on war than we do anything else.”
“War?! War?! You think we spend too much money on war?!” shouted Richard. “Check out the jacket, missy! I used to be in the army! We need war! There are terrorists out there who want to bomb the shit out of us and you want to just sit back and do nothing?! That’s extremely disrespectful to our military! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! You want to talk about people getting free shit?! Where’s my free shit?! Huh?! Where’s my social security?! I served overseas and you don’t want to give me a damn thing?!”
Colleen just wanted to sink into the ground and cry for the rest of her life. She was done for. Joey was done for. This cold-blooded snake was going to send them both into a nervous breakdown. Not that he’d ever call 9-1-1 except to report an alleged abuse of the social security system. Just when her nervous system was about to shatter like peanut brittle, she overheard Joey pulling the tab on his Coke.
“What?! Uh-uh! No way!” bellowed Richard. “That’s my Coca-Cola! My tax dollars paid for that Coke, so you’re going to give me a drink! As a matter of fact, give me the whole fucking thing while you’re at it!”
Ask and ye shall receive. Joey took a sip of Coke and spit a brown sugary mist all over Richard’s now drenched face. Seeing that image brought tears to Colleen’s eyes, but they were tears of laughter. “That was awesome!” she said with a newfound sense of courage. “Give me five, buddy!” The two high-fived and their anxieties were replaced with comical joy. No more shaking. No more hurting (except for their ribcages). Just solidarity and sweetness between two friends.
Richard, on the other hand, was trembling for a different reason than anxiety. He seethed silently as he grabbed a paper towel and slowly wiped the liquid candy off of his face. He didn’t even care that his cheeks were still sticky with soda. He gritted his teeth and growled like a wolf before attempting to lunge at Joey. He would have had his hands wrapped around the kid’s neck if it wasn’t for Colleen diving across the counter and acting as a barricade between Richard and Joey.
“I’m going to beat your fucking ass, you fucking jerk!” roared Richard as he was being held back by Colleen, whose anxiety had been replaced with lava hot adrenaline. She didn’t care that the man was twice her size; there was no chance in hell he was going to let him hurt her favorite customer. “Let go of me, damn it! I’m going to kill him!”
“Stop it! Stop it!” screamed Colleen and Richard suddenly discontinued his struggle. “You are way out of line, Mister! You can have your free speech and whatever, but you are not entitled to beat the shit out of a mentally disabled man! You know what?! I’ve made up my mind! You’re blackballed from this store! I have your face on the security cameras! I have your credit card information! Your name is Richard T. Betts and you’re never coming back here again! If you do, I’ll have the police come and take you away! Now get the fuck out of my store!” Colleen never trembled so hard in her life. Her heart never beat so quickly. Her head never ached that badly.
Richard spit on the floor and said, “Good, I don’t want to come back to this dump anyways. In fact, I hope this place burns to the ground with both of you trapped inside!” Colleen’s evil stare refused to change in the midst of this bold threat. Nonetheless, Mr. Betts pointed at the teary-eyed Joey and said, “And you! If I ever see you on the streets again, I’m going to beat your fucking ass!” The ex-soldier stormed off and bumped his shoulder in the door on his way out.
Colleen’s expression softened when she saw Joey’s tears multiply and snot building up in his nostrils. “What a jerk! Are you okay, buddy?”
“N…No!” sobbed Joey Elkins, who then received a tight hug and a kiss on top of his shaved head from the equally teary Colleen Holt.
The two of them just stood there hugging it out and crying on each other’s shoulders. Colleen gently whispered, “It’ll be okay, Joey. It’ll all be okay. He’s never coming back again. I promise I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”
“Why do people have to be mean to each other? All I wanted was something to eat and drink!” quivered Joey.
“I know, buddy. I know. I would never look down on you for using a food stamp card. You’re too sweet to me,” said Colleen. She barely noticed a customer standing at the counter with a case of beer tapping his foot impatiently.
She snapped at him, “Hey! Give us a minute! You’ll get your goddamn beer soon enough! Jesus Christ!” She continued to hold Joey in her arms and whisper, “I’m sorry this happened to you. I really am.”
The impatient customer cursed and walked out the door. Colleen didn’t give two shits and a flying fuck. Comforting Joey and making sure he wasn’t alone in this world was more important than a case of beer…and even more important than Richard Betts’s precious tax dollars.
July 26, 2017
Upcoming Concerts
***UPCOMING CONCERTS***
Instead of posting four separate blog entries detailing my upcoming concerts, I’m going to kill all four of those birds with one stone. Actually, I shouldn’t do that, because killing birds with stones is fucking cruel (even if they are woodpeckers who pound on my walls at six in the morning). As per usual, these concerts (or mini-vacations as I call them) may or may not affect my ability to compete in WSS and/or engage in other creative activities, depending on my mental energy for those free days. Then again, they’re spaced far enough apart, so it may be a non-issue. Anyways, let’s get started.
This coming Friday night, I’m headed to the Pantaegus (SP?) Theater in Tacoma with my brother James and my dad to see Brian Regan perform standup comedy. James and Dad have been huge fans of his since the late 80’s and early 90’s. I haven’t followed Brian Regan as closely as they have, but this night will be a chance for the three of us to see each other nonetheless. My visits with Dad are few and far between save for Father’s Day, his birthday, and Christmas. This will be good for all of us. I hope Brian Regan is on his A-game Friday night, because I could use a good laugh.
The following Tuesday (August 1st), I’m headed over to the White River Amphitheater in Auburn to see Green Day in concert, with their opening act being Catfish and the Bottlemen (whoever they are). I’ve seen Green Day twice in my life, once in 2005 at the Tacoma Dome and once in 2009 at the Key Arena in Seattle. Both times they’ve invited members of the audience to come onstage to help play songs. I play the piano myself, but I don’t think Billie Joe is going to call on me to keep up with him during “The Forgotten”. It should be an awesome show like always.
On August 9th, Metallica is coming to Seattle’s Century Link Field with Avenged Sevenfold and Gojira opening for them. I’ve never seen any of these three bands before, but I know Metallica is going to be something special due to their involvement with bringing thrash metal to life in the 80’s. My first Metallica CD was “Ride the Lightning” and I listened to that one a lot as a small child. I listened to “Load” and the black album quite a bit in my teenaged years. I purchased their other albums and played them on shuffle in preparation for the concert.
And finally, on August 19th, Incubus is coming to the White River Amphitheater with their opening act being Jimmy Eat World. I’ve seen Incubus two times before, once in 2004 at the Key Arena and once in 2012 at the Tacoma Dome when they opened for Linkin Park (rest in peace, Chester). Incubus recently came out with their eighth album, which is appropriately titled 8, and my favorite songs from that CD are “No Fun”, “Throw Out the Map” and “When I Became a Man” (as weird as that last one is).
The fifth item on this list of shows would have been Linkin Park playing at the Key Arena in Seattle with Snoop Dogg opening for them. But as we all found out this past Thursday, Chester Bennington committed suicide by hanging at the age of 41 and left a huge hole in the hearts of his loved ones, band mates, and fans. The surviving members of Linkin Park decided to cancel the rest of their One More Light tour out of respect for Chester. I can’t stress enough how depressing this news is. Linkin Park has been a huge part of my teenaged and adult life and they’ll always have a special place in my music collection. Maybe these other bands I’m seeing will pay tribute to Chester in some way whether it’s covering a Linkin Park song or a simple shout-out. That would be a touching sentiment.
Instead of posting four separate blog entries detailing my upcoming concerts, I’m going to kill all four of those birds with one stone. Actually, I shouldn’t do that, because killing birds with stones is fucking cruel (even if they are woodpeckers who pound on my walls at six in the morning). As per usual, these concerts (or mini-vacations as I call them) may or may not affect my ability to compete in WSS and/or engage in other creative activities, depending on my mental energy for those free days. Then again, they’re spaced far enough apart, so it may be a non-issue. Anyways, let’s get started.
This coming Friday night, I’m headed to the Pantaegus (SP?) Theater in Tacoma with my brother James and my dad to see Brian Regan perform standup comedy. James and Dad have been huge fans of his since the late 80’s and early 90’s. I haven’t followed Brian Regan as closely as they have, but this night will be a chance for the three of us to see each other nonetheless. My visits with Dad are few and far between save for Father’s Day, his birthday, and Christmas. This will be good for all of us. I hope Brian Regan is on his A-game Friday night, because I could use a good laugh.
The following Tuesday (August 1st), I’m headed over to the White River Amphitheater in Auburn to see Green Day in concert, with their opening act being Catfish and the Bottlemen (whoever they are). I’ve seen Green Day twice in my life, once in 2005 at the Tacoma Dome and once in 2009 at the Key Arena in Seattle. Both times they’ve invited members of the audience to come onstage to help play songs. I play the piano myself, but I don’t think Billie Joe is going to call on me to keep up with him during “The Forgotten”. It should be an awesome show like always.
On August 9th, Metallica is coming to Seattle’s Century Link Field with Avenged Sevenfold and Gojira opening for them. I’ve never seen any of these three bands before, but I know Metallica is going to be something special due to their involvement with bringing thrash metal to life in the 80’s. My first Metallica CD was “Ride the Lightning” and I listened to that one a lot as a small child. I listened to “Load” and the black album quite a bit in my teenaged years. I purchased their other albums and played them on shuffle in preparation for the concert.
And finally, on August 19th, Incubus is coming to the White River Amphitheater with their opening act being Jimmy Eat World. I’ve seen Incubus two times before, once in 2004 at the Key Arena and once in 2012 at the Tacoma Dome when they opened for Linkin Park (rest in peace, Chester). Incubus recently came out with their eighth album, which is appropriately titled 8, and my favorite songs from that CD are “No Fun”, “Throw Out the Map” and “When I Became a Man” (as weird as that last one is).
The fifth item on this list of shows would have been Linkin Park playing at the Key Arena in Seattle with Snoop Dogg opening for them. But as we all found out this past Thursday, Chester Bennington committed suicide by hanging at the age of 41 and left a huge hole in the hearts of his loved ones, band mates, and fans. The surviving members of Linkin Park decided to cancel the rest of their One More Light tour out of respect for Chester. I can’t stress enough how depressing this news is. Linkin Park has been a huge part of my teenaged and adult life and they’ll always have a special place in my music collection. Maybe these other bands I’m seeing will pay tribute to Chester in some way whether it’s covering a Linkin Park song or a simple shout-out. That would be a touching sentiment.
July 24, 2017
Balls
CHORUS
You don’t have the balls to shoot me down!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to watch me drown!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
VERSE 1
You talk forever like it’s a real exercise
Working your jaw muscles by telling lies
That shit’s got to be made out of iron
You think you’ve got balls the size of tires?
You’re shaking and shivering like it’s winter
Your only true pain is like a wooden splinter
You’re no different from the rest of the chickens
Running away when it’s time for ass-kickings
EXTENDED CHORUS
You don’t have the balls to shoot me down!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to watch me drown!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to run this town!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
Cacophony is your greatest sound!
Ugh!
VERSE 2
You’ve got your AK-47 locked and loaded
Your hair trigger temper has all but exploded
You’ve got a belt of grenades around your waist
You rush into battle with a zealot’s kind of haste
You throw your life away over temporary anger
Throw yourself in front of unnecessary danger
You’ve got some shrinkage and it’s not laundry
You can’t axe your way out of your own quandary
EXTENDED CHORUS 2
You don’t have the balls to shoot me down!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to watch me drown!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to ground and pound!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
Check for your nuts in the lost and found!
Rah!
BRIDGE
You don’t wear the pants, but you wear the G-string
Cutting your ass off until you’re no longer breathing
You don’t wear the colors, because they run
Shutting you up will be a lot of fucking fun!
Balls! Balls! Balls! BALLS!
You don’t have the balls to shoot me down!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to watch me drown!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
VERSE 1
You talk forever like it’s a real exercise
Working your jaw muscles by telling lies
That shit’s got to be made out of iron
You think you’ve got balls the size of tires?
You’re shaking and shivering like it’s winter
Your only true pain is like a wooden splinter
You’re no different from the rest of the chickens
Running away when it’s time for ass-kickings
EXTENDED CHORUS
You don’t have the balls to shoot me down!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to watch me drown!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to run this town!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
Cacophony is your greatest sound!
Ugh!
VERSE 2
You’ve got your AK-47 locked and loaded
Your hair trigger temper has all but exploded
You’ve got a belt of grenades around your waist
You rush into battle with a zealot’s kind of haste
You throw your life away over temporary anger
Throw yourself in front of unnecessary danger
You’ve got some shrinkage and it’s not laundry
You can’t axe your way out of your own quandary
EXTENDED CHORUS 2
You don’t have the balls to shoot me down!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to watch me drown!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
You don’t have the balls to ground and pound!
Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls!
Check for your nuts in the lost and found!
Rah!
BRIDGE
You don’t wear the pants, but you wear the G-string
Cutting your ass off until you’re no longer breathing
You don’t wear the colors, because they run
Shutting you up will be a lot of fucking fun!
Balls! Balls! Balls! BALLS!
July 23, 2017
You Tried to Kill Me
VERSE 1
You call it a trigger, I call it something bigger
I call you liquored, you’re the one who’s sicker
You tried to take away what I hold highest
My heart, mind, soul, and beautiful silence
Kleptomancy is your magic of choice
Obnoxious bullhorn is your style of voice
I would have screamed to the skies for help
How can anyone hear when I’m chained in hell?
CHORUS 1
You tried to kill me!
You tried to end it all!
You tried to kill me!
You made me take the fall!
VERSE 2
Your empty talk is like a buzzing wasp
Stinging me until my brain goes pop
Pop goes the weasel, down go the people
You make fun of everyone? That’s your spiel?
I don’t buy the idea that this shit’s not personal
You wished me humiliated, wished me terminal
I want to wrap my hands around your pencil neck
Watch shit and piss run down your fucking leg
CHORUS 2
You tried to kill me!
You tried to end my life!
You tried to kill me!
You might as well pull the knife!
VERSE 3
I want to take your inner demons
Turn them against you to make us even
Every ass kicking you have ever taken
Every sad-ass smile you’re just now faking
Every time you were told to go to hell
Every time the crowd laughed when you fell
You’re in my shoes, you’re singing the blues
To say otherwise is nothing but fake news
CHORUS 3
I tried to kill you!
Put your memories to rest!
I tried to kill you!
Make you famous, not like the rest!
You tried to kill me!
You tried to make me small!
You tried to kill me!
How does it feel to curl in a ball?!
You tried to kill me!
You call it a trigger, I call it something bigger
I call you liquored, you’re the one who’s sicker
You tried to take away what I hold highest
My heart, mind, soul, and beautiful silence
Kleptomancy is your magic of choice
Obnoxious bullhorn is your style of voice
I would have screamed to the skies for help
How can anyone hear when I’m chained in hell?
CHORUS 1
You tried to kill me!
You tried to end it all!
You tried to kill me!
You made me take the fall!
VERSE 2
Your empty talk is like a buzzing wasp
Stinging me until my brain goes pop
Pop goes the weasel, down go the people
You make fun of everyone? That’s your spiel?
I don’t buy the idea that this shit’s not personal
You wished me humiliated, wished me terminal
I want to wrap my hands around your pencil neck
Watch shit and piss run down your fucking leg
CHORUS 2
You tried to kill me!
You tried to end my life!
You tried to kill me!
You might as well pull the knife!
VERSE 3
I want to take your inner demons
Turn them against you to make us even
Every ass kicking you have ever taken
Every sad-ass smile you’re just now faking
Every time you were told to go to hell
Every time the crowd laughed when you fell
You’re in my shoes, you’re singing the blues
To say otherwise is nothing but fake news
CHORUS 3
I tried to kill you!
Put your memories to rest!
I tried to kill you!
Make you famous, not like the rest!
You tried to kill me!
You tried to make me small!
You tried to kill me!
How does it feel to curl in a ball?!
You tried to kill me!
