punk rock, man.
They met during social interaction in Algebra class.
She was expressionless at first, but then “smiled” to indicate submission.
He rearranged his facial features to appear “friendly.”
After determining that their popularity status was comparable,
they decided that a “relationship” would be mutually beneficial.
They were careful to be seen together
at the local fast-food franchises.
He had a stylized speech pattern.
She used all the newest slang.
When they talked on the telephone,
they had troubled generating conversation stimulus.
They programmed “arguments” into their “relationship”
to make their lives seem “meaningful.”
They could act “really mad” or “happy” or even “sad”
according to the current pre-fabricated social circumstances.
He had programmed his “personality”
to conform to adolescent trends.
She had synthesized her “emotions”
based on accepted teen sex-role characteristics.
They had copied all aspects of their behavior
from what they had observed in society.
Ego complex, insecurity syndrome
Oo yeah, they were really “goin’ gud.”
They were killed in an auto wreck as they were driving to and fro.
After drinking two beers, he was pretending to be “drunk.”
While the local popular radio station
played the newest pre-designated, youth-oriented “top-forty hit,”
he was decapitated in an explosion of flames and glass fragments.
Her body was found crushed into the dashboard.
A mini-cam report described them as “fine youngsters.”
They never got a chance to fulfill their “career dreams.”
I gave some kid one of my copies of Loveless. I met him on my break, smoking outside Sam Ash.
He was your average tool who needed a new microphone for his “ska-dubstep-screamo-deathcore” band. I sold him an sm58 to match his mediocrity.
He came back last week and said MBL scarred the shit out of him while he was stoned.
real punk rock.
fuck the Offspring in the eye.
Its just like when mom and dad would fight.
Mom was so mad.
Dad was so sad.
Both were right, they both were wrong.
And then mom left him.
What was and what will never be.
Remember that it’s just a memory.
This just in from the nostalgia factory:
A city scene, a love scene and the music festival in green.
It’s been quite awhile
Since I last saw you smile.
Controlling me through fear,
You’ve made it crystal clear
I’m only right when I admit I’m wrong.
It’s the sum of all your pride
That ensures you’ll never be my bride.
So much love, misused and abused.
I hope you never hear me sing this song.
I got a job offer in Chicago earlier this week.
I work at a Sam Ash music store in Las Vegas where I sell keyboards and recording equipment.
The manager of our Chicago branch wants me to transfer to his store.
He said I can work in any department I’d like.
I could be selling guitars. In Chicago.
I’d be an idiot for not taking the offer.
But the thing is: I’m an idiot.
I’m so fucking tired of people posting:
vintage book stores
Self pitying quotes about how “depressed” you are
and all that other shit that pisses me off.
You guys are just SO post-modern, aren’t you?
Big Black’s fireworks are set off at Irving Plaza.
April 26, 1986.
Photo by Greg Fasolino/Lorianne Oakley
One of Dinosaur’s most relatable jams