I guess it's fashionable these days, which is good, because all of you are human, and honestly whilst I've been an atheist for 30 years I do (perhaps) believe that we keep returning to RC for a reason. Not in any religious or spiritual sense of course (that might be gay), but indeed, I have rarely stumbled upon such a bright group of individuals, bright folk as dim as me perhaps, but I digress...
So the last few months have proven to be a whirlwind of stupidity in my life. No, not for me, but merely by observance of vaguely outside happenstance. I just recently unleashed some longterm shackles that I have of course written about here, but the recent culmination of foolishness runs in the following band breakup as so:
Guitarist stopped paying his mortgage about a year ago. Drummer lived with him for a few years at that point, and continued to pay rent. One day EVICTION NOTICE ARRIVES and panic ensues. Drummer helps them move the most, my wife helps quite a bit, and finally I helped when I was able. This was our practice house so it definitely meant the band was on hold, but no worries, we'll all help y'all move into your parents' old house... your parents' old house which is in foreclosure itself right now, and also currently abandoned........excepting of course the drunkard friend (read: 30+ beers per day, every day) from years back who is "keeping an eye on the place" for the time being. So, for whatever reason a few days after the giant mess of a move is complete, Guitarist, who by the way is now working in Sacramento (400+ miles away) tells Drummer's girlfriend "YOU OWE ME 30 DOLLARS" and after a brief argument via text (good job!) followed it up with "YOU HAVE TWO WEEKS TO GET THE FUCK OUT." So drummer and his girlfriend say fine, fuck you, we're moving back home to Syracuse (2,500+ miles away), because we have nowhere else to go anyhow. Drummer and girlfriend come stay with us for a handful of days/nights whilst they pack their shit and wait for the train. Guitarist tries to backpedal by purchasing a cheap bottle of whisky for Drummer and hoping that "he can see things from my perspective some day." Said bottle of booze now lives with me, Drummer wants nothing to do with Guitarist. So there went my Drummer. A week or so later Guitarist texts me and says "hey can you pretend to be my old landlord, I need a reference to rent an apartment." SIDE NOTE: Guitarist has owed me $1,000 for 8 years now, and during the time he wasn't paying his mortgage, he bought a new car, several more guitars and basses, and (from what I've been told) a few hundred pairs of shoes. I tell him no, and that it was pretty funny that he came to me of all people to lie and say he was a Financially Responsible Person. He gets all butthurt and proceeds to delete me and my wife (admin) from the band's Facebook page, and apparently doesn't "like" either of us anymore since we were also blocked on the Facebook. SIDE NOTE #2: we're all in our mid-30s, so this makes the pettiness even more pathetic/hilarious. So there went my Band. Fun fact: Myself, Drummer, and Guitarist have all been friends for 20+ years. Guitarist has a pretty severe problem with alcohol and should seek help. Should. Won't. Fuckit, I'm moving on. Drummer won a competition at Guitar Center 2 days after moving back to Syracuse though, haha. Dude is GOOD and I hope he can find his way in the Manhattan scene as a pro. I'm playing weird death/doom with another drummer at work. So a few things are still coming up Milhouse. I told my mom I needed to turn the last 3 months into a book, and she suggested "add a murder mystery element to it!"
What does it all mean? I'm finally writing a god damn book in earnest this time. My bass/drum death/doom band is pretty part time and that's all I have going musically right now, so I'm trying to focus on the madness that is my own mind. Well I'm also reading Inferno and that is fucking me up right proper, so much that I even "straightened" my hair last night WTF:
So it goes.
So the last few months have proven to be a whirlwind of stupidity in my life. No, not for me, but merely by observance of vaguely outside happenstance. I just recently unleashed some longterm shackles that I have of course written about here, but the recent culmination of foolishness runs in the following band breakup as so:
Guitarist stopped paying his mortgage about a year ago. Drummer lived with him for a few years at that point, and continued to pay rent. One day EVICTION NOTICE ARRIVES and panic ensues. Drummer helps them move the most, my wife helps quite a bit, and finally I helped when I was able. This was our practice house so it definitely meant the band was on hold, but no worries, we'll all help y'all move into your parents' old house... your parents' old house which is in foreclosure itself right now, and also currently abandoned........excepting of course the drunkard friend (read: 30+ beers per day, every day) from years back who is "keeping an eye on the place" for the time being. So, for whatever reason a few days after the giant mess of a move is complete, Guitarist, who by the way is now working in Sacramento (400+ miles away) tells Drummer's girlfriend "YOU OWE ME 30 DOLLARS" and after a brief argument via text (good job!) followed it up with "YOU HAVE TWO WEEKS TO GET THE FUCK OUT." So drummer and his girlfriend say fine, fuck you, we're moving back home to Syracuse (2,500+ miles away), because we have nowhere else to go anyhow. Drummer and girlfriend come stay with us for a handful of days/nights whilst they pack their shit and wait for the train. Guitarist tries to backpedal by purchasing a cheap bottle of whisky for Drummer and hoping that "he can see things from my perspective some day." Said bottle of booze now lives with me, Drummer wants nothing to do with Guitarist. So there went my Drummer. A week or so later Guitarist texts me and says "hey can you pretend to be my old landlord, I need a reference to rent an apartment." SIDE NOTE: Guitarist has owed me $1,000 for 8 years now, and during the time he wasn't paying his mortgage, he bought a new car, several more guitars and basses, and (from what I've been told) a few hundred pairs of shoes. I tell him no, and that it was pretty funny that he came to me of all people to lie and say he was a Financially Responsible Person. He gets all butthurt and proceeds to delete me and my wife (admin) from the band's Facebook page, and apparently doesn't "like" either of us anymore since we were also blocked on the Facebook. SIDE NOTE #2: we're all in our mid-30s, so this makes the pettiness even more pathetic/hilarious. So there went my Band. Fun fact: Myself, Drummer, and Guitarist have all been friends for 20+ years. Guitarist has a pretty severe problem with alcohol and should seek help. Should. Won't. Fuckit, I'm moving on. Drummer won a competition at Guitar Center 2 days after moving back to Syracuse though, haha. Dude is GOOD and I hope he can find his way in the Manhattan scene as a pro. I'm playing weird death/doom with another drummer at work. So a few things are still coming up Milhouse. I told my mom I needed to turn the last 3 months into a book, and she suggested "add a murder mystery element to it!"
What does it all mean? I'm finally writing a god damn book in earnest this time. My bass/drum death/doom band is pretty part time and that's all I have going musically right now, so I'm trying to focus on the madness that is my own mind. Well I'm also reading Inferno and that is fucking me up right proper, so much that I even "straightened" my hair last night WTF:
So it goes.
@ the several hundred pairs of shoes part
