Spring Break '006, show me them sweet nips

Yeah...so my spring break has not been nearly that exciting. But it has been a welcome break. I've been taking care of business; getting shit done but at a much more leisurely pace. The other night I had the esteemed pleasure of hanging out at what will be forever remembered as "The Band Room," despite the fact that no band has played/practiced in this space in four years. For those of you that are unfamiliar with this magical place, let me give you the skinny: it's a little shack next to a shack of a house in the backwoods between Griffin and Jackson. I'm still trying to figure out how it has electricity. you know how the countryside can either be blissfully serene or horrifically uncomfortable? This is definitely the latter of the two. I swear leatherface and the cheek fuckers from deliverance have a compound out there somewhere. Nothing but scary whitefolks with too many firearms our there. In addition to having band practice out there, we would party out there for a number of reasons, all of which are listed in no particular order: there are few places that a 17 year old with fucked up hair, tight jeans, piercings, and a studded belt can enjoy his 40 of malt liquor in Griffin, Ga; the crazy whitefolks don't give a shit if you act a fool and break shit, even if they did, the closest house is a quarter mile away; my friend's parents (the ones that own the magical band room and the accompanying house) are small time drug dealers and full-time drug addicts, so as long as our cars didn't prevent their delivery boys pickup truck from providing the day's goods we were fine; all of our instruments were there(getting smashed and playing music is always good times); we could fuck shit up to our hearts content (which is a requirement for a drunken punk rock party). I once witnessed a grown-ass man fly fist first through the wall of the band room. Who needs a fancy night club or bar when you have two dollar 40's and the "Band Room"?

4/12 biatches

So apparently 4/12 is the anniversary/birthday of the founding of the infamous blood gang. In celebration, all of the "folk" (that's street talk for gang bangers) wear all black to proclaim to the world that they are indeed picking up what's being put down. So guess what color my shirt was today? Good times indeed.

At long last...my bi-monthly post

Yeah...so I totally suck at this whole blog thing. One day I will overcome my lameness and become a full blown hipster but right now I'm still in the mallcore/poser stage of my magical journey to the top of blogger mountain. Bear with me during these trying times; we shall overcome.
The whole becoming an adult/mentor/shaper of young minds is finally starting to make a little more sense now; well..atleast it's not nearly as frightening. That's not to say that I have anything figured out. I still feel like a five year old with a soggy diaper caught in the body of a nearly twenty four year old but I've come to accept it. Besides, diapers are much more convenient than restrooms when you're drinking beer; no more getting up to leak the lizard, just let the good times roll...right down your leg.
Life's been one fucked up carnival ride lately. You know the one. The carnie operator has one good eye; his "bad eye" is covered up with a sweet skull and crossbones eyepatch with the phrase "I see you" scrawled on it (a constant reminder to said carnie of why he should not mix methamphetimines and tequila around strangers). He just smiles at you like a sex offender with a trunkful of candy as you walk on to the steel wire deathtrap that squeaks like a 1983 Ford Tempo with the emergency brake on.
Here's the quick blotter report: brother's getting divorced; played in a parking lot in front of a tatoo shop across the street from the Atlanta Motor Speedway during race weekend, successfully bombarding the god fearing, beer guzzling, carberator tweaking motorheads with our devil music; helped relocate a ten dollar swimming pool from a club to the roofrack of a Dodge Durango; nearly brawled with seven grown-ass men for trying to steal their ten dollar swimming pool (I'm not sure if they were pissed about the pool or pissed about the fact that we couldn't successfully steal a fuckin kiddie pool w/o getting caught); writing music/playing "mini" shows with the new band; composing/performing new compositions for another theater production; not updating this thing; trying to quit smoking(seven days at this point); trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do this summer other than collect a paycheck w/o working for two months; reading lots.