Sometimes you get into this spiral where life is one bitchslap after another.
I've been on the receiving end now for about a year. I'm tired of it.
I feel like the guy at the end of "Sister Carrie". His life just keeps getting worse and worse. In "Sister Carrie" it's because he abandoned his boring life for the illusion that was Carrie. Me... jesus, I don't know what the hell I did. All I know is my temp job is over in a few weeks, i don't know when my girlfriend and kid are moving in, and I'm tired of playing music at second- and third-tier clubs. Wasn't I just playing for 2000 kids a night a few weeks ago? Wasn't I on tour in Europe 2 years ago? On tour nationally the years before that?
What happened?
So here we are, October 12. My son is 9 months old today, but I'm not there to celebrate because UPenn not only can't manage to send the right visa to my girlfriend to get her into the US, they can't be bothered to return phone calls until we get lawyers involved. Hey, they don't call you Ivy League for playing nice, right? Amy Guttman, you fucking bitch, I'm talking to you.
So hey, I used to make $32,000 a year, now I have a temp job that pays $12/ hour and is over in 2 weeks. So hey, I'm praying that the job describing gay and straight porno for $10/hour comes through. isn't that great? I'm happy to take a nearly $6,000 pay cut to get an entry level job looking at fucky-flicks! Isn't that fucking awesome? (Don't get me wrong: I want, and NEED this job. But I can't tell my girlfriend's parents what I do for a living. i can't tell my grandmother what i do for a living.)
The power steering on my car diedvlast month, and cost $400 to fix. The brakes need to be fixed too: when the car gets up to 65 miles an hour the front wheels rattle so badly i get scared that the entire front end is going to fall off. The thermostat needs to be replaced. My amplifier repair is going to cost about $200, maybe more. A full tank of oil for the house is going to cost almost $600.
So hey, I went to a food truck today and waited a half-hour for my food, and they made the wrong thing. So hey, when I left and got a cheesesteak instead, a cab decided that right turn on red takes precedence over pedestrians and bikers crossing the street and practically knocked me off my bike. my food went everywhere!
So hey, i played at WXPN last week for free! they promised me lots of media people and industry types who weren't there! Oh and they didn't give us any beer. Oh and food wasn't free either! isn't music a great career? bands line up to get treated like shit. Oh and WXPN wants me to come back and perform again this week! Do you think I'll say "yes"? Hey, maybe I'll use my repaired amplifier and I'll get to say "hey you cheap fucking bitches! I paid $200 to get this amp fixed so you can hear my godlike tube tone! isn't it rich? Don't the bass tones come out as hard as a fist, as smooth and mellow as crushed velvet? And hey, it's your lucky day, because I'm giving it away! Think of me when I'm not drinking a beer because you bitches are too cheap to give up even a bottle of fucking lager."
Hey the guy working behind the bar at WXPN last week said he couldn't give us free beer because "there's a law that says I can't." So I laughed in his face and said "I've been playing in this town for 5 years now, and if there is such a law, you're the only person who obeys it." I've told everyone i know about their "no-beer/ no-pay" policy... I'll continue to tell everyone about the no-beer/no-pay policy.
So hey, i have a gig tonight. At the local ethiopian restaurant. With a band called "Clueless" that plays "acoustic folk funk" with "middle eastern and celtic influences."
That sound you hear is me vomiting my gastrointestinal tract. Without even hearing this band, i hate them. I hate them and every band like them. You're not an "acoustic folk funk" band. You're a rock band with an acoustic guitar that desperately wnats to be something other than what it is. Putting goofball fusion labels on your band doesn't make you better: it makes you sound intellectually pretentious. Oh and hey, wiseass, don't even say "what about Unclefucker" because at least Unclefucker was funny. Mixing Middle Eastern and Celtic influences may be a good recipe for a holy war, but as a punchline, it ain't happenin'.
Every year, we play a number of festivals in West Philadelphia's Clark Park. This year, I believe we did every festival except one. And while everyone knows I am hypercritical of my band, almost to the point of quitting, we stand head and shoulders above almost every band we've shared a stage with at the Clark Park festivals, with the exception of Stinking Lizaveta. Lord and Thundering Christ, I am appalled by the garbage shitfuck sounds people call "music". White guys playign bloodless blues. Black guys emulating white guys' bloodless blues. Shitfuck bands like the flat possum boys that try to be all things to all people. I hate everyone and everything. Fuck it. get the fuck out of my room.
Sometimes I wish I'd never looked at a guitar or bass. Sometimes I wish I'd been born completely deaf instead of half-deaf. Mission of Burma had it wrong when they reached for their revolver: they should have reached for their Street Sweeper automatic shotgun.
So hey, when do i get to bitchslap life?
I've been on the receiving end now for about a year. I'm tired of it.
I feel like the guy at the end of "Sister Carrie". His life just keeps getting worse and worse. In "Sister Carrie" it's because he abandoned his boring life for the illusion that was Carrie. Me... jesus, I don't know what the hell I did. All I know is my temp job is over in a few weeks, i don't know when my girlfriend and kid are moving in, and I'm tired of playing music at second- and third-tier clubs. Wasn't I just playing for 2000 kids a night a few weeks ago? Wasn't I on tour in Europe 2 years ago? On tour nationally the years before that?
What happened?
So here we are, October 12. My son is 9 months old today, but I'm not there to celebrate because UPenn not only can't manage to send the right visa to my girlfriend to get her into the US, they can't be bothered to return phone calls until we get lawyers involved. Hey, they don't call you Ivy League for playing nice, right? Amy Guttman, you fucking bitch, I'm talking to you.
So hey, I used to make $32,000 a year, now I have a temp job that pays $12/ hour and is over in 2 weeks. So hey, I'm praying that the job describing gay and straight porno for $10/hour comes through. isn't that great? I'm happy to take a nearly $6,000 pay cut to get an entry level job looking at fucky-flicks! Isn't that fucking awesome? (Don't get me wrong: I want, and NEED this job. But I can't tell my girlfriend's parents what I do for a living. i can't tell my grandmother what i do for a living.)
The power steering on my car diedvlast month, and cost $400 to fix. The brakes need to be fixed too: when the car gets up to 65 miles an hour the front wheels rattle so badly i get scared that the entire front end is going to fall off. The thermostat needs to be replaced. My amplifier repair is going to cost about $200, maybe more. A full tank of oil for the house is going to cost almost $600.
So hey, I went to a food truck today and waited a half-hour for my food, and they made the wrong thing. So hey, when I left and got a cheesesteak instead, a cab decided that right turn on red takes precedence over pedestrians and bikers crossing the street and practically knocked me off my bike. my food went everywhere!
So hey, i played at WXPN last week for free! they promised me lots of media people and industry types who weren't there! Oh and they didn't give us any beer. Oh and food wasn't free either! isn't music a great career? bands line up to get treated like shit. Oh and WXPN wants me to come back and perform again this week! Do you think I'll say "yes"? Hey, maybe I'll use my repaired amplifier and I'll get to say "hey you cheap fucking bitches! I paid $200 to get this amp fixed so you can hear my godlike tube tone! isn't it rich? Don't the bass tones come out as hard as a fist, as smooth and mellow as crushed velvet? And hey, it's your lucky day, because I'm giving it away! Think of me when I'm not drinking a beer because you bitches are too cheap to give up even a bottle of fucking lager."
Hey the guy working behind the bar at WXPN last week said he couldn't give us free beer because "there's a law that says I can't." So I laughed in his face and said "I've been playing in this town for 5 years now, and if there is such a law, you're the only person who obeys it." I've told everyone i know about their "no-beer/ no-pay" policy... I'll continue to tell everyone about the no-beer/no-pay policy.
So hey, i have a gig tonight. At the local ethiopian restaurant. With a band called "Clueless" that plays "acoustic folk funk" with "middle eastern and celtic influences."
That sound you hear is me vomiting my gastrointestinal tract. Without even hearing this band, i hate them. I hate them and every band like them. You're not an "acoustic folk funk" band. You're a rock band with an acoustic guitar that desperately wnats to be something other than what it is. Putting goofball fusion labels on your band doesn't make you better: it makes you sound intellectually pretentious. Oh and hey, wiseass, don't even say "what about Unclefucker" because at least Unclefucker was funny. Mixing Middle Eastern and Celtic influences may be a good recipe for a holy war, but as a punchline, it ain't happenin'.
Every year, we play a number of festivals in West Philadelphia's Clark Park. This year, I believe we did every festival except one. And while everyone knows I am hypercritical of my band, almost to the point of quitting, we stand head and shoulders above almost every band we've shared a stage with at the Clark Park festivals, with the exception of Stinking Lizaveta. Lord and Thundering Christ, I am appalled by the garbage shitfuck sounds people call "music". White guys playign bloodless blues. Black guys emulating white guys' bloodless blues. Shitfuck bands like the flat possum boys that try to be all things to all people. I hate everyone and everything. Fuck it. get the fuck out of my room.
Sometimes I wish I'd never looked at a guitar or bass. Sometimes I wish I'd been born completely deaf instead of half-deaf. Mission of Burma had it wrong when they reached for their revolver: they should have reached for their Street Sweeper automatic shotgun.
So hey, when do i get to bitchslap life?
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