Those flowers on my walls

She stared at me with discontent and I felt the blood coarse through my veins like a freight-train on a one-way destination with no worries or no lives to save in the process.

"What the hell is your problem?!" she asked me, but I had no answer. Instead, I stand there, my rage burning and seething directly below the surface, waiting for the opportune moment to snap. "I have no problem" I reply, indifferently. She scoffs at my pathetic attempt to wipe the situation clean from my back and then she proceeds to mock and defile who I am in a series of offensive laughs that make my eyes burn and my face twitch for lack of reason.

I'd fallen in love with this woman years ago and now my love has shifted. It went from her, a 38 year old mother of my children and love of my life to the 14 year old body of my daughter's best-friend. How it happened I'll never truly be able to explain, but one with sight and similar feelings might be able to answer that question for me.

"You're sick!" she tells me. I cannot deny this. I stand there appropriating my gaze to whatever feels least awkward at the moment. "You're a fucking creep!" she yells in my direction. My eyes look up to her now, she openly burns her rage. Mine is down. My rage is at the center and the core of the human infrastructure waiting until someone finally snaps and breaks me open like a glowstick.

I've thought how this moment would go various times throughout my tenure with the girl, but I could never come to a logical conclusion on the subject. Instead, I would play it over in my head and each time my wife would be less angry at me. Now, as I stand her with my pride in my right hand pocket all I can think is that this was far worse than I'd ever expected.

"You dirty, old, fucking loser!" she calls me. I perk up, my cheek twitches and I walk forward. I grab a picture off of the wall without looking at it. "What are you doing now?!" she yells to me. I continue marching toward her as she's backing away. I get her in the corner, lift up with the glass picture frame and let go on her face. I destroy her beauty and I demolish her ability to call me names. I don't quit. The glass is long gone at this point (noted by the amount left in her face) and she lay there still, lifeless.

What the fuck Tom Gabel?

Tom Gabel is a pioneer and a hero to many people who enjoy folk-punk and equally a traitor to just as many. Personally, I've always dug him and a lot of the tunes that his band "Against Me!" has churned out. His new solo EP "Heart Breaks" furthers himself even farther from his deep punk roots that he seemingly abandoned with the release of "Against Me!'s" newest record "New Wave" on Sire records of last year.

The first two tracks from his EP (Random Hearts and Conceptual Paths) anger me like no other. They sound like Shwayze, no fucking lie. There's an 808 drum machine over his acoustic guitar and this saddens me. Whatever happened to screaming your lungs out about how much Starbucks sucks?

What happened to the unintelligible lyrics and the soulful input that everyone could feel even through a CD that set them apart from everyone else? What happened to the songs that could cause a riot as well as cause everyone to break down and fall apart on the dancefloor?



As Tom's EP continues, it DOES get better... but it all sounds like Billy Bragg meets Against Me! not just Against Me!'s lead singer doing his solo shit. Anna is a Stoolpigeon is probably the best track on here and the live bootleg (obviously found online) is probably than this album version.

I'm still a huge fan of Tom Gabel as well as Against Me!, but it bothers me how much they've shifted. I even enjoy their record "New Wave" but I hardly view it as an Against Me! record when you compare it to anything from "Reinventing Axl Rose". I don't know maybe I'm just being nuts, so I'll ask you. Listen to both of these songs (In video form) and you tell me what YOU think.

1. We Laugh At Danger (And Break All The Rules) from "Reinventing Axl Rose"



2. Stop! from "New Wave"



Anyone else see what I mean? They don't even sound the same at all. It's almost exactly what Greenday did and they were fucking SHUNNED by their old fans. I'm still a fan of Against Me! and I will continue to be... but I just wanna hear something unintelligible for a while.

Any opinion on this matter?

Fire Alarms and Mall Security.

I was standing around at the park near 7 or so. There was nice, a slight chill to the air. Fro called and said he'd be there to pick me up for a few minutes, and that we'd be grabbing Charlie as well for milkshakes. I was standing by a large grouping of cars and people when Fro and Sam pulled up. I grabbed by back-seat position and started playing with a can of spray-on deodorant that was left there by charlie ever since The New York Trip. We pick up Sir Charles and we all talk and shoot the shit for the drive. It had been a week or so since I saw Charlie, few days since I'd seen Fro and less than a day since I'd seen Sam, but still.

We get to Niles and we get into the right-hand lane to turn into the plaza that leads to the Mall and all of the outlying stores, outlets, places, etc. As we're still going at about 10 miles an hour I say "Well, I'll see you guys at Steak and Shake" and I jump out of the car! I get my foot caught and Fro manages to run over two of my toes on my left foot. Fucking flip-flops. I still jump out of the car, tumble on the ground, get up- and start running as fast as I can. I look to my left and see them slowing down along the lane and turning and stopping, presumably waiting for me. I keep running. I run until I get to the Holiday Inn down the road. They see me and turn in, expecting me to get in the car. I run into the Holiday Inn, run up three or four flights of stairs, and then open a door that triggers a fire alarm- and then I run down the fire escape.

I keep running.

I get to a turn where it leads to the main portion of the plaza. I look behind me and still see them sitting there in the Holiday Inn parking lot. I run down this road and then run a nice half a block to the Steak and Shake. I get there, call Charlie- and then they show up.

After our awesome milk-shakes, we collectively decide to head to the mall for a bit. We walk inside and there are a fair amount of the overhead lights out. We still decide to keep walking. We walk around for a bit, and then we all skip for a while. This place is fucking empty, there is hardly anyone there, so who gives a fuck. Well, the Mall Security guard obviously did. He yells "Hey, stop it!", and we all stop. I look behind me, say "Fuck it." and keep skipping for most of the remaining mall-way. I get out of breath and wait for the others to catch up. The Mall Security guard is walking pretty intently over in my direction. I just stand there, looking at his faggy ass. He strides up to me and in a very hick-ish way goes "I told you to stop, what were you doing?", I go "Oh dude, I thought you said that the mall was closing and that we needed to leave.", he continues on and eventually tells me that if I ever "disobey orders" again, I'll be banned for life. I semi-laugh at him and then we just leave.

Fuck that Mall Security faggot. He can suck my tiny, white penis. I was SKIPPING. I wasn't talking to, harming, or annoying anyone (other than him), so he can fuck off. How daft can one person be? It's an empty mall and we were skipping to the exit. God I really hope someone just burns down his fucking house, because this fellow OBVIOUSLY lived with his mother. He was wearing what appeared to be a Mountie's hat and standard blues. He had three days of growth from his upper lip and a nice chubbiness that rivals my own. I could give a fuck less if I get banned from our shitty mall. Chapel Hill is much nicer and only like 20-30 minutes farther. I just think the guy is a total fucking moron. I was skipping through an empty mall- just because you have a life draining job doesn't mean you have to hate on skippers. I hope he gets raped by a band of skipping serial killers.

Later, Oklahoma.

Yesterday was pretty much lame and depressing, but I did get to hang out with Cameron for a little bit.

He and I went to the mall and then went to see his dad at the strike. His dad works at Thomas Steel which is on union strike right now.

So after I bought some new flip-flops at Old Navy, he and I headed out towards that way. After I went back to the truck and talked to the grandparents (I left my phone in the truck), I had some fun.

They had corporate suits out there in a large white van. There was a skinny guy wearing cowboy boots and a black suit, and a fat guy wearing a suit shirt and pants. I started having fun yelling obscenities at the pair of guys who were against the strike, working for the corporate end of Thomas steel. I yelled everything, in front of Cameron's dad at that:

"Hey Oklahoma (the skinny guy) take your dick out the other guys ass and stop recording me!"

"Was it weird when you joined Al-Queda as an American?"

"Do you enjoy your job? Draining America's hard-working persons for the financial gain of people who REALLY don't need the money?"

"I'm gonna burn down your fucking house!"

"I bet you like David Bowie- I bet the fat man is Freddie Mercury, I heard they fucked!"

And just various other things. Cameron and I walked into the tent next to the strikers and there was a cat there. Cameron asked who's it was, and one of the guys from the strike said it's name is "Strike Kitty" and it just showed up one day.

The cat and I started playing. It scratched me like 50 times, painfully.

Eventually we left, and that was pretty much the only noteworthy part of yesterday.

- Josh

Second Draft

I know I haven't really posted in a few days- and it's mostly because nothing interesting has really happened. The past few days I've kinda just been kicking it around the house and hanging out with my usual friends.

I have a new project though- every day (starting yesterday) I see Fro- something random will be placed in his car. Yesterday is was a Taco Bell tray- today, I have it ready- and it'll be interesting.

This weekend- not too much I don't think. Possible consumption of illicit substances, otherwise- same old same old. My "new" blog "The Analog Clarity" will hopefully start with some full reviews soon.

I've got a list of records to listen to, but since school is back in- it's hard to find the time away from Super Nintendo Video Games and my examination of my own used prophylactics to actually do anything worthwhile.

Something interesting!

I have this mini-USB drive that I stored all of my stencils, pictures, drawings, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, all of my writings. Every short story I've ever came up with. Every movie outline I've ever conjured. Every idea I've ever fucking had is on the USB drive... and the drive died on me. Everything is lost. Everything. Not just one or two things... EVERYTHING. and ENTIRE fucking script is gone. A script that I was hoping would be my first film, is down the shitter. It's fine though. I really liked the story I came up with though. It was... different, it was me. Oh well. Maybe I'll just consider this a second draft.

- Josh.

"I'm an undercover cop" Pt. 2

This is the second part to my previous post in which I had a 20 yr. old arrested for assault and impersonating an officer. If you haven't read it, go ahead and read it here.

At about 8:30 or so the same night I was walking through the park with Robert Bacon and Sam. We were just hanging out, talking. As we were walking past the rest-rooms, I see Nate running from the pavilion with this girl I know named Kara. They're running quite quickly, and I see them head down to the park. I make a call to Cameron, then I run down to the other end of the park, towards where Nate just ran, but I run over to the parking lot. I see Brent and tell him to look behind me (I was facing the direction against Nate, so he couldn't tell that Brent was looking at him). Brent sees him, and then Nate disappears. After about five minutes, Cameron shows up with a truck of people. I spot Nate back towards to rest-rooms, so we head that way. I'm heading this group with Dom and Tommy, and I look back and we have a group larger than the last time, We have about 30 angry kids. The second we get up near the rest-rooms and stuff, 3 carsful of our supporters show up- and then Dom brings something to my attention- he and a few other people distinctly heard Nate go "I'll be back up here at 9- swingin' at anyone", which I told everyone I wasn't going to fight a single person. We spot his car in the parking lot, and after I see the front view- it's undoubtedly his.

We all kinda hang out for about 20 minutes or so- then I call a friend who has Kara's number. I get Kara's number, block it- and then Brent speaks to Nate over the phone. He tells Nate that we're waiting and this stuff, it was horrible. After tons of people are just talking shit about how "They're gonna destroy him", I see him. He's talking to a group of people holding this large book-like thing. It looks like a petition, because he's stopping everyone and asking them to sign... so that was my main concern. As he runs to his car with Kara, avoiding all of our group- people just yell at him. They call him "a fucking bitch", "fucking faggot", "you don't push one of our friends around and not get kicked in", it was weird stuff man. All of these people concerned over the fact that I got pushed, haha. I didn't even really care- I got him arrested, my fun was done.

It gets better though, don't worry.

When Nate bailed out, Steven told us that he knows where Nate lives. Yeah, you know where this is going. Cameron, Dom, Ryan and I drive by and see his car, and that it's Nate's house. After that, we go back to the park and we have three car-loads of people ready. As we drive by, people shout obscenities, in which Nate's father walks out of this house. For some reason, we're stopped at the sign- while the dad is coming out of the house staring at us, so I say "FUCK THIS", and I jump out and start running. I make it out to Warren Ravenna road in RECORD time and Steven drives by with Dom shouting "Get the fuck in man", I get in and Steven goes "What the fuck, no offense- but for a big guy, you can fucking run!", and then we head back to the park. We slowly unwind, and then I just head out towards home.

It was a pretty interesting day, to say the least. I'm amazed at how angry people are though. I only went with them because I was curious and I wanted to document it all. I just can't see what makes people so angry at a guy who pushes some minor. Sure, the guy was a fucking moron... but it wasn't that big of a deal, not to me at least. Regardless, I will continue to put myself in these situations because it makes interesting writings.

- Josh.

Insane Irony

Sometimes, there exists an ironic moment so aptly put, that it can excite, scare, and piss you off. That such moment happened yesterday afternoon.

To fully appreciate the irony of this post, it would be rather wise to go back and read this post.

I spent a nice portion of yesterday afternoon walking around the town with Dustin Underwood (who has been named in two or three previous blogs). We kinda just shared a mutual boredom and talked about everything. Music, Life, Social-State, Hitchhiking, etc... well, while we were sitting underneath a tree at the park talking about music, I got a call from my house. I answered it figuring I'd be getting bitched at for something silly, but no. My grandmother told me that McDonalds called and they wanted to schedule an interview with me. I told my grandmother I'd come home and call them, and then I hung up.

What the fuck man. I haven't even put in an application in two or three months up there. Not only am I surprised (and confused) about that, I'm also angry.

I'm angry because I could probably use a job, but I really hate the idea of swallowing the big of a nut and going to work at that fucking place. It's hard to for me to say. I despise the idea of working for a corporation that I so deeply despise... but I guess I can always follow Dustin's advice that he gave me, he said "You can always quit. Just remember that, it's easy to forget that you can quit.", which is true.

So here I sit. I have an interview in an hour at McDonalds. If I don't get this job, I'll be bummed... but I won't be TOO angry. I think the fact that I'm getting a callback has at least rekindled my interest in attempting to get a job.

Well, here I am. I'm back from the interview. It actually went well, I must say. They want me back for a second interview tomorrow evening. They asked me to bring in a copy of my ID and Social Security card. Which is awesome, Because I lost my wallet!

- Josh

How did an hour and a half of my life disappear?

Good evening everyone.

Earlier this evening I had an odd experience.
I literally lost an hour and a half of my life.

I shall explain.

Earlier this evening, around 9PM or so- I ended up at the skatepark with Cameron and Trent. They left to go to Matt's house and see him- so I decided to hang out around the skatepark and watch Joe get pissed from a manual to heel.

After Joe left I started walking towards Dairy Queen. Along the way, I called my grandmother- the time was 9:15PM when I called, and asked her not to lock the doors because I had forgotten my keys.

The next thing I remember is standing outside of someones home in the Projects. I remember everything about that place rather vividly. It was an ugly-as-fuck blue, with a weird little bench in the front yard. No fencing, no canopy above their platform inside.

Inside, I remember crappy floorboards that creaked. I don't remember any names or faces inside of there.

Next thing I remember... Pat Nemet yelling "HEY" to me. I stood there, perplexed. I said "Hello" back to him. He asked if I wanted a ride and I said something like "The thing is, I'm not sure where I'm going in what direction", to which he said "Are you high?", and I replied "Maybe a little, I don't know", I kept walking and he yelled "Do you want a cigarette?" I said "No thank you" and I kept walking. I remember looking at my phone and seeing 10:31PM.

What happened to that hour and fifteen minutes of my life?

Did I do drugs? Did I drink? Did I get gangraped for a pine scented air-freshener? I may never know, but I think Pat Nemet thinks I'm a drug addict. haha.


- Josh