Noise Therapy


I moved yesterday. Things changed and I couldn’t stay back at Nate and Sami’s house anymore, so I spent Saturday packing all my crap, washing all my clothes, and moving it from their house back to my ‘rents house. I’m not super siked about living here again, I would really like to live … anywhere else, but I got myself stuck up shit creek without a paddle and now I have to accept the financial repercussions and deal with it until I pay for all my legal misfortune and save up enough to buy a tent and move out behind the WalMart or wherever is cheap.So I’m sick as a dog, feeling ass-tastic, and I had to spend the whole day moving. It’s not really that bad because I only own enough stuff to fill one room. I can fit everything I own in one car load, and the bed of a standard F150, so it’s a one trip affair as long as I get everything packed well. But when I got over here my little brother, who just moved out, had left this gigantic monster desk in my room, and we had to get it out. This involved taking the door off it’s hinges, flipping the fucker on it’s side, and waddling slowly out into the hall and down the stair. Several migrant workers were killed in the desk move, and I would like to request a moment of silence for their families who are now fatherless, and will be deported back to their countries of origin since without a man to work for me they are all useless and I reported them to INS.

This desk, besides being gigantic, was heavier than a mother fucker. No joke, it had to weigh all of three hundred pounds. And we had to carry it down stairs. I shudder at the thought. I’m pretty sure the side I got, which was the top side, was made of solid lead, or possibly adamantium, I’m not sure. But it was heavier than wood. Much heavier.

So towards the end of the move I got a call from my good friends Rachael and Kenny. Much like Jesus would have done, they invited me out to a heavy metal show in Raleigh for some noise therapy. And I really needed to get out of the house and do something fun. See I just started alcohol treatment classes (post coming soon) and they are on Thursday nights, which means no more thirsty Thursday for eight weeks. This rehab shit is a real buzz kill.

But back to the metal, we went to this metal bar called Volume 11, and they weren’t joking. I can say in confidence that noise was brought, and volume was delivered. I still can’t hear very well and my ears have been ringing loudly since I woke up. They rocked so loud I could feel it in my dick. There were plenty of long haired metal heads and sexy ass rock and roll bunnies. One of my friends is dating a drummer, and his band was headlining, so a bunch of people I know were there. I had fun.

First of all, since all my crap is packed up, I had to skip the traditional metal head uniform. The only black t-shirt I could find was a Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt, and I didn’t want to be the Skynyrd guy at the metal show, so I went with my TP shirt instead. It’s got a roll of toilette paper, and it says “That’s how I roll.” I love it. Plus it gives me an excuse to say it all the time. (yeah, I a total dork. I know. That’s how I roll) When we got there, there was this grumpy lesbian bartender who couldn’t remember what I was drinking all night. (no tip bitch) And I don’t mean to toot my own horn here, but my lady friends are really really hot. I mean, most of the dudes I hang out with are ugly as sin, but for some reason, my crowd has ridiculously attractive women in it. I’m not sure how that works, but I like it. Eye candy is sweeter than ambrosia.

The first band was lame. Very very lame. I died a little inside because of how retardedly lame they were. But they did jump around a lot, which made it slightly more entertaining to watch. And the bass player was swinging his bass around like a mad man, and I couldn’t help but wish that he would fuck up and drill the singer in the face on accident. Now that would have been a kick ass show. Also I found some humorous irony in the fact that there were probably a hundred white people in black shirts, and the one black guy in the joint had on a white shirt. It made me smile. The singer made out with one of the gargoyles on top of the speaker towers. It wasn’t nearly as cool as it sounds.

But they suffered from a lot of the same problems that most crappy local metal bands have. Their singer couldn’t sing at all, so he just growled and screamed with no melody. I’m sorry if you like that kind of shit, but if you don’t have any melody in your vocals, then pack up and go home cause there’s nothing for you here but my scorn. Don’t get me wrong, I love the growling and screaming, but not without melody to balance it out. If you look at any good metal band, even the really heavy ones, there is always melody in the vocals. Sing dammit! Sing you stupid growling no talent bastards.

The second band was different. There was none of the stage show that the first band had, but in it’s place was a little something I like to call talent. Plus all the guys in the band were really big, so you can tell they were cooler than the first guys, even from a distance. (big = cool) (except for Ronnie James Dio and that dude from Iron Maiden, who were tiny and still rocked the Casbah) But nothing very memorable from the second band either. I do remember that during their set I had to drain the snake, so I headed to the John. But instead of weaving through the crowd like usual, I got stuck behind this crippled guy. He had those cane-brace things, like Jimmy from South Park. So I had to walk all the way across the establishment, incredibly slowly, and try not to look conspicuous. It was weird. So when we got to the bathroom, which was gigantic and clean by the way, I pissed really fast and hoofed it out of there so I didn’t get stuck behind him again. And yes, I washed my hands.

The third band was a weird mix. There were two lead growlers this time, and neither one really seemed to be using any kind of actual words or language. Just screams. And not really in any pattern that might indicate their screams were planned out to go with the music. Just random nonsensical screaming. I could have shat out better vocals. But their drummer was kick ass. He was tearing it up. The guitar player seemed like he was holding back some, that is until I realized he was deformed and only had three fingers on each hand. And between the ninja turtle hands (yes I know they only had two fingers on each hand) and his freaky mongoloid face, he was instantly bad ass.

After that there was a band with a bass player who looked like Screech from Saved by the Bell. Not much else to tell about them. And last of all came the headlining band. I’m not going to mention them by name, because I thought they sucked, and I don’t want to piss off my friends. What I am going to say is a little bit about the fashion of different scenes. I really don’t care much about fashion. You can wear whatever you want for the most part and I probably won’t notice or care. But there are a few rules for heavy metal fashion that need to be addressed. More like anti fashion rules.

Let’s just start with what I thought was common knowledge: no fucking hair product. If you are a dude, don’t style your hair. You know what I think when I see a guy who styles his hair? I think he probably enjoys sucking dick, that’s what I think. Grow it long, cut it short, do whatever, but for the love of God, please don’t imitate Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. This rule also applies to tight/pre-faded and/or ripped jeans. Just stop it people. Guys shouldn’t wear girl pants. Emo bitches do it because they suck, and you don’t want to suck do you? Get some normal jeans like every other guy on the planet, and wear them until they are faded and ripped up. This may take several years, but that’s what you have to do. And there’s no law that says jeans need to be faded or ripped at all. Just put on a random pair of pants and go play some fucking music. No one cares what you have on except you slutty girlfriend and her desperate groupie friends, so just stop trying so damn hard.

Also, don’t wear dress clothes when you are playing rock and roll. It’s not ironic. You just look like a dip shit. Pretty much anything with a collar is out. No fucking ties. This isn’t the office. Also those faggy Kevin Federline hats. I don’t know when exactly these became cool, but it needs to end. Especially hats with plaid. Plaid does not belong on your head you trendy cunt. Same thing for those rapper sunglasses. You know those big ass retarded ones that P. Diddy and Kanye West wear. Don’t wear them. Ever. And I know it’s heavy metal and all, but I distinctly remember a time (back in the day, aka high school) when girls would occasionally die their hair something besides jet black. Somebody please bust out some blue or red or pink. Purple even, I don’t care, but black is getting old.

And that was my night. It was fun. Rock and Roll is not dead, it’s just kind of boring and lacking in talent. Tell me what you did this weekend. Did you wrestle aligators? Did you rape and pilliage? I’m sure you did something exciting, and I want to hear it. So pony up already.

Advertisements

15 responses to “Noise Therapy

  1. im baaaaaaaaaaaack…… hope you missed me!!!
    dude no booze for 8 weeks? thats gotta suck..
    hahahhaa you should come over here and checkout our local metal bands 98% rock!

    well for my weekend i went to my cousins wedding and had some booze and was home by 1am coz my nana wanted to go home so yeah. then on sunday i did nothing but eat and that was my weekend. exciting huh?

    well hope you feel better soon. sucks you had to move.

  2. Hahaha…oh my god, “plaid does not belong on your head you trendy cunt”…

    You are SOOO friggin’ hilarious (do you see how I’ve taken to reading your blog at 5:30am? It helps me get awake and perk up for the day (perk up???)….

    Dude, I can’t believe you had to walk behind the guy with the “jimmy crutches”, that takes a lot of patience…and yo: I hate “just growlers” too; it’s like a regression to the cave-man days, and if we allow that, then why not just stop showering? Or why not just wear fur-togas and and bone hair-accessories? Losers.

    Sooo…to answer your question of what I did this weekend: well, on Saturday afternoon, after a second bout of getting extreme tightness in my chest to the point that it hurt to inhale (with the pain spreading into my shoulder), I started to freak the fuck out about my heart, so I went to the emergency room, and spent the next 6 hours #1. waiting and #2. getting looked at and getting tests, x-rays, bloodwork….in the end, no heart problems, thank god, but I apparently strained my chest cavity from an instance of cardio exercise from a couple days ago; apparently that happens to people my age, and apparently the symptoms are the exact same as what you would figure if you had major heart problems, hence the freak-out…but all is well, just a little sore when I inhale, and maybe it’s time to ease away from all the cardio in my life and move onto to some more mellow exercise…so yeah, fun weekend! 🙂 (oh and I saw this movie starring Don Cheadle called “Talk to Me”, which is based on the true story of this radio deejay from the 70’s in Washington D.C., and it was actually pretty cool…)

  3. I watched my coworkers get drunk and embarass themselves by falling over themselves and being slutty with the married men…whose wives were standing behind them getting pissed but knowing the sluts were to drunk to know what they were doing.
    I also got my nose pierced (finally.), which surprisingly did not hurt at all and about 32 hours later is not red and feels fine.

  4. Oh. My. God.

    Josh, PLEASE tell me you get the joke about the name of the place, right? RIGHT?!?!?

  5. Also, you will love me for this: I have had several pairs of jeans that have been naturally worn to the ripping point, was raised by a roadie, date only musicians and roadies or guys who could be mistaken for such, ABSOLUTELY REFUSE TO PLACE MYSELF ANYWHERE EXCEPT BEHIND FRONT OF HOUSE (because I was raised by a roadie and always strike up a conversation and/or laugh to myself at what a shitty job some local sound dude is doing and it’s always the best view) and will NEVER go to a local show and stand right at the front because that’s where the fucking bandwives and girlfriends stand. Also, my hair colour? Purple. Well, it fades to red, but my hair colour of choice is in fact called Deep Purple. And before I got a real job it was pink and black. How sweet is that? That’s right. I rule.

    ps. you have my sympathy on having to move back in with your parents. that blows, capital B. i would declare bankruptcy before moving back in with my parents. oh wait, i did. shit.

  6. The Queen: I did miss you. And I have been really busy with the moving and the rehab and shit, plus all my bookmarks are on a different computer. But I should be by to catch up on your blog soon. 😉

    Romi: If it makes you feel any better, I’ve always thought your chest was tight. Drum roll please for my segue into another off color joke. And if cardio isn’t your cup of tea, I know this really great exercise plan that might leave you sore, but won’t put you in the hospital for nine months. Damn! I’ve still got it!

    Steph: Your coworkers sound awesome, send them my way.

    Em: No joke, it really was called Volume 11. And for the whole night I couldn’t remember it, I kept thinking it was Finger 11, which is retarded. But eventually my cold medicine cleared for a moment and I connected with the whole Spinal Tap reference, and then I felt like an idiot and drank some beer to feel better.

    Also, you don’t need to woo me any more. I am clearly smitten with a deep undying love. And not just for your vagina, but also like, personality and stuff. I know, it’s weird. I didn’t realize you had purple hair. I thought it was dark brown. That’s hawt! And please don’t even joke with me about the pink and black. Please don’t jerk me around here. Pink is by far the hottest chick hair color ever, especially combined with black. You really really need to post a picture of yourself with some pink going on, because I just might die happy.

    Related hair note. There’s this chick in alchy treatment class with me who is drop dead gorgeous, and her hair is black underneath, but on top it fades from blue to purple to pink. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. If my life wasn’t rock bottom right now I would try and start a little somethin somethin. But I really don’t need another woman until I get my shit straight. (or I find a rich one)

  7. thats ok i can forgive you being busy checking out other chicks and what not to 4get your one true Queen.

    I saw your comment to romi and it reminded me! i got carmen electras striptease work out. its fun. and funny if your watching me do it lol.

    anyway hope things go well with you.

  8. we were at the heather hills club, i shoulda called you (even though i dont have your number, lol)…we were doing casino night, it was pretty sweet.

  9. Dude, that hair sounds awesome. Well, obviously I have a desk job, so my hair isn’t electric purple. It does look dark brown when you first look at it, but if you look at it closely enough, in the light, it’s purple 🙂 Yeeeeaaaahh!

    I don’t have any pics of me with the black and pink, but I do have pics with the black and blonde that was around before that. I’ll take a looksee around, those were good pics.

    And, I didn’t mention this in my last comment, just in case you didn’t get the reference (in which case you would have been out of the cool club forever), but I had a shirt made for me that says “THESE GO TO 11” right across the front. HUGE hit with any sound guy. Aaaaahhhh, I love music biz inside jokes. I got a marriage proposal from the last techie that got it, ha! I settled for some of his M&Ms instead, he wasn’t attractive. 😛

  10. The Queen: I think somebody needs to post sime pictures of a certain workout. Nudge nudge, wink wink.

    Steph: Strip casino night? Nudge nudge, wink wink.

    Em: Hell yeah. Black and blond works just as good. I can just print it out and use pink highlighter, and use it to complete the creepy shrine I crated for you. The hair doll is almost finished. I used to know a guy with an amp that went to eleven. It was pretty cool, but apparently not as cool as tits that go to eleven. Nobody proposed to him.

  11. josh is dirty nudge nudge wink wink.

    how come you havent made a hair doll out of me? lol

  12. Ooh! I’m all for creepy shrines! Now I don’t feel quite so insecure about facebook stalking people I like and making little voodoo dolls out of other attractive ladies in their circle. Um….yeah.

  13. The Queen: Just a bit behind love. I do apologize for my poor punctuality. I’ll be over in a bit, I connected the computer where I am just this morning. I will try and send all of my old bookmarks from one computer to another tonight. Much furniture moving in the mean time. Also writing.

    Em: I Think my sister-in-law set me up a Facebook page. I’ll try and find it tomorrow. Sort of locked in at the moment. Once a year snow weather. You get the drift. The Queen: also you too. If I can find the account I’ll hit you up too.

  14. The Queen: Just a bit behind love. I do apologize for my poor punctuality. I’ll be over in a bit, I connected the computer where I am just this morning. I will try and send all of my old bookmarks from one computer to another tonight. Much furniture moving in the mean time. Also writing.

    Em: I Think my sister-in-law set me up a Facebook page. I’ll try and find it tomorrow. Sort of locked in at the moment. Once a year snow weather. You get the drift. The Queen: also you too. If I can find the account I’ll hit you up too.

  15. wow you managed to comment twice! go you josh! all is 4given as i like to read your blog and i’d hate to be banned from it. hope your having a good weekend 🙂

Share your thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s