Hughy Casey, Petty Argument Bystander from "Happy Fun Land"

 

Concerts

Well…I’m burned out and bored out of my mind for the thirteenth day in a row. So to alleviate this boredom, I’m going to post a list of all the concerts I’ve ever been to in my life. Nostalgia feels good sometimes, you know?

1992: 

• MC Hammer X Boys II Men (July 17th at the Seattle Center Arena)

1994: 

• WWF House Show (Sacramento, CA)

1996: 

• Sting and Geggy-Tah (August 30th at the Irvine Meadows Amphitheater in Irvine, CA)

2000: 

• Roger Waters: In the Flesh (June 27th at the Rose Garden Arena in Portland, OR)

2001: 

• Rammstein (July 6th at the Roseland Theater in Portland, OR)

2003: 

• The Moody Blues (June 14th at Marymoor Park in Redmond, WA)

• WWE House Show (Tacoma Dome)

2004: 

• Linkin Park, P.O.D, Hubastank, and Story of the Year (February 13th at the Tacoma Dome)

• Incubus and Sparta (August 7th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

• Korn, Breaking Benjamin, Chevelle, Skindred, and Instruction (November 14th at the Tacoma Dome)

2005: 

• Papa Roach, Skindred, and The Fuck-Ups (February 17th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)

• WWE House Show (Tacoma Dome)

• Green Day and Jimmy Eat World (September 26th at the Tacoma Dome)

• System of a Down and The Mars Volta (October 5th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

2006: 

• Korn, Mudvayne, and 10 Years (March 5th at the Tacoma Dome)

• Magical Strings (Bremerton, WA)

• Roger Waters: Dark Side of the Moon (October 12th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

2008: 

• Nightwish and Sonata Arctica (September 9th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

2009: 

• WWE No Way Out (February 15th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

• Green Day and The Bravery (July 3rd at the Key Arena in Seattle)

• Soulfly, Prong, and Mutiny Within (October 7th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)

2010: 

• Tool and Rajas (July 10th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

• Roger Waters: The Wall (December 11th at the Tacoma Dome)

2011: 

• Rammstein (May 15th at the Tacoma Dome)

2012: 

• Rammstein (May 14th at the Tacoma Dome)

• Nickelback, Bush, Seether, and My Darkest Days (June 23rd at the Tacoma Dome)

• Linkin Park X Incubus (September 5th at the Tacoma Dome)

2013: 

• Magical Strings (Bremerton, WA)

• Ladysmith Black Mambazo (Edmonds, WA)

• Rodriguez and Jenny O (April 30th at the 1st Bank Center in Denver, CO)

• Bill Maher (June 22nd at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)

• Three Days Grace and Otherwise (August 23rd at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Papa Roach, Pop Evil, and Age of Days (October 5th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)

2014: 

• The Pink Floyd Experience (March 29th at the Admiral Theater in Bremerton, WA)

2015: 

• Cavalera Conspiracy, Death Angel, Corrosion of Conformity, Lody Kong, and Sanction VIII (May 1st at Studio Seven in Seattle)

• Final Fantasy Symphony (July 10th in Seattle)

• Slipknot, Lamb of God, Three Days Grace, Bullet For My Valentine, Theory of a Deadman, and Motionless in White (August 23rd at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

2016: 

• Nightwish, Sonata Arctica, and Delain (March 7th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Rob Zombie X Korn (July 27th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Slipknot X Marilyn Manson (August 11th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Disturbed, Breaking Benjamin, Anthrax, Alter Bridge, Saint Asonia, Pop Evil, Stitched Up Heart, and Windowpane (August 21st at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Five Finger Death Punch, Shinedown, Sixx AM, and As Lions (November 5th at the Tacoma Dome)

2017: 

• Garrison Keillor  (April 15th at the Pantages Theater in Tacoma, WA)

• Roger Waters: Us & Them (June 24th at the Tacoma Dome)

• Brit Floyd (July 1st at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)

• Brian Regan and Dennis Regan (July 28th at the Pantages Theater in Tacoma, WA)

• Green Day (August 1st at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Metallica, Avenged Sevenfold, and Gojira (August 9th at Century Link Field in Seattle)

• Incubus and Jimmy Eat World (August 19th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Jason Mewes (September 14th at the Tacoma Comedy Club)

2018:

• Pop Evil, Black Map, and Palaye Royale (February 25th at El Corzazon in Seattle)

• Starset, Palisades, Grabbitz, and Year of the Locust (February 28th at El Corazon in Seattle)

• Papa Roach and Nothing More (May 4th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Soulfly, Nile, After the Fallout, and Devilation (May 13th at Studio Seven in Seattle)

• Breaking Benjamin, Five Finger Death Punch, and Bad Wolves (July 16th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Seether, 10 Years, and The Dead Deads (July 31st at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Halestorm, In This Moment, and New Years Day (August 17th at the WaMu Theater in Seattle)

• Evanescence and Lindsey Stirling (September 7th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

2019:

• Jason Mewes (February 2nd at the Tacoma Comedy Club)

• Soulfly, Unearth, Incite, Skinflint, Odyssian, and Emanon (February 23rd at Club Sur Rocks in Seattle)

• Within Temptation, In Flames, and Smash Into Pieces (March 16th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Slipknot, Volbeat, and Gojira (July 30th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Rob Zombie, Marilyn Manson, Corrosion of Conformity, Palaye Royale, and Bones UK (August 3rd at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Ghost and Nothing More (September 19th at the WaMu Theater in Seattle)

• Starset, Palisades, Hyde, and A Brilliant Lie (October 13th at the Neptune Theater in Seattle)

• Babymetal and The Hu (October 16th at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)

• Hellyeah, Nonpoint, and Deepfall (December 10th at El Corazon in Seattle)

2020:

• Soulfly, Toxic Holocaust, and Madzilla (February 10th at El Corazon in Seattle)

Beautiful Monster Official Soundtrack

 Commonsense dictates that I should be in bed right now considering it’s about two in the morning. But instead, I put together my official soundtrack for Beautiful Monster. There are twenty songs on this list and they total up to an hour and eighteen minutes of play time. Starting with…

1. “Beautiful Monster” by Otherwise (no shit, Sherlock)

2. “Between You and Nowhere” by Hellyeah

3. “Crying Out” by Shinedown

4. “The Dark of You” by Breaking Benjamin

5. “Death” by Demon Hunter

6. “Don’t Leave Me Now” by Pink Floyd

7. “For You” by Marko Hietala

8. “Frozen” by Within Temptation

9. “Fuck Love” by All That Remains

10. “Heavy” by Linkin Park

11. “Holding My Breath” by Alien Weaponry

12. “A Little Bit Off” by Five Finger Death Punch

13. “Love Is Blue” by Paul Mauriat (of course)

14. “My Immortal” by Evanescence

15. “Nothing’s Fair in Love and War” by Three Days Grace

16. “Say Goodnight” by Gemini Syndrome

17. “Scarlet” by In This Moment

18. “Sickened” by Disturbed

19. “Volcanic” by Death Angel

20. “You Love Me ‘Cause I Hate You” by Lacuna Coil

My Opinion Is the Only One That Matters

VERSE 1

I’m the one who eats the burgers

You’re the one who’s the burden

I’m the one who eats the fries

You’re the one who spews the lies

I’m the one who swallows the pills

You don’t pay my fucking bills

You don’t have a say in this

‘Cause all you do is rip the piss

CHORUS 1

You can plead your case to the judge

My opinion is the only one that matters

My stubborn ass won’t even budge

My opinion is the only one that matters

VERSE 2

I’m the one who dreams my dreams

OK Boomer, my choice of memes

I’m the one who follows my passion

You’re the one who’s out of fashion

I’m the one who loves the world

You’re the one who rapes the girls

You don’t get to choose my destiny

Conformity is my worst enemy

CHORUS 2

You can bang your gavel all you need

My opinion is the only one that matters

Scream at me until your throat bleeds

My opinion is the only one that matters

BRIDGE

Why should I trust you anyways?

Who invited you to forever stay?

Why should I believe in your rhetoric?

You don’t believe in my betterment

You’ve always wanted complete control

You’ve got an iron fist and a heart so cold

Got a million ideas of what I should be

Yet the only one who matters is me

CHORUS 3

You can send a SWAT team to my home

My opinion is the only one that matters

You can leave me in a prison cell all alone

My opinion is the only one that matters

You can fry my ass in the electric chair

My opinion is the only one that matters

You can do it all because you deeply care

My opinion is the only one that matters

Suicide Note

Taking away our most brilliant minds

A suicide note is all you’ll ever find

More questions asked than answers given

Not one mere solution among the living

Not one necromantic spell for the night

Not one more song, not one more light

Only sadness and rage, rinse and repeat

Images of dead bodies’ dangling feet

Permanent reminder of a hangman’s rope

Only a bottle of pills to help you cope

Nothing we do can bring them back

True magic is what this world lacks

We lock each other in the tiniest cages

But it won’t tack on any extra ages

None of the tears we drop in pain

Can keep it from being all in vain

Go through the motions for another day

One more light? Who gives a shit anyway?

Goddamn Dog

As Tim Coleman laid half asleep in bed on a rainy afternoon, he kept wondering why his girlfriend Jade Quinn had “One More Light” by Linkin Park playing on repeat before she left for work in the morning. She wasn’t her usual peppy self. No smiles. No kisses. Not even a hug. Just cold, empty eyes as she left Tim in charge of dogsitting duty. The pouring rain coupled with the dour mood made him curl up against his pillow even more. A pillow was no substitute for Jade, however. He would have settled for Millie crawling up under the blankets. But then…

Something assaulted Tim’s nose like a wrecking ball to the face and had just about as much knockout power. He pulled his nostrils under the blanket, but he could still smell that rancid, god-awful odor coming from the living room. “Oh no…no, no, no…please tell me she didn’t do it…no…no…NO!”

He threw the blankets off of him and stomped out to the living room wearing just his athletic shorts. The harder he stomped, the more rage pumped through his ogre-like body. The odor set his nostrils nearly ablaze as he tried to suppress the urge to vomit. And then he made it to the living room and saw that Jade’s hardwood floors had become a battlefield of landmines. Gigantic, steaming brown landmines with the general herself laying on the ground in guilt. Millie the salt n’ pepper colored Labrador mooed like a cow before unleashing a cloud of toxic gas from her already putrid bunghole.

“Goddamn it, Millie! You stupid fucking goddamn dog!” shouted Tim from the top of his lungs. “I am so sick and tired of cleaning up your fucking messes! You goddamn dog!” Fury and venom poured from the fat man’s lips with every swearing scream. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you stupid dog!” Though he would never go through on such a threat, Millie wouldn’t have known as she guiltily tucked her head.

Tim stomped to the bathroom and fetched the necessary cleaning supplies for a job this disgusting: paper towels, a mop, and a bucket he filled with soapy water. In between retrieving these necessary items, he kept on roaring like the pissed off lion he was. “You goddamn dog! Quit shitting all over the fucking floor, asshole!”

His first course of action was to scoop up all of the dog turds with god knows how many paper towels before flushing them down the toilet separately. Every time he bent over, the odor triggered his gag reflex to where he wanted to vomit himself inside out. While that would be an instant relief to his aching and tired body, it would also mean more messes to clean up. “Goddamn stupid ass fucking dog!” he screamed.

After flushing the turds down the drain, he sat on the toilet seat for a while and wiped the sweat from his body, which poured like the rainy weather outside. Tim took several deep breaths not only to recover his lost energy, but also in a vain attempt to calm himself down. “Stupid dog…stupid goddamn dog!” he screamed, completely destroying his ambitions of nirvana.

Step two of this ultimate cleaning job was to mop the floors as vigorously as he could. A few strokes in and he was already sucking wind. Wind, by the way, that was broken by a sixteen-year-old dog huddling in the corner. “Stupid dog!” Tim screamed again as he scrubbed the wooden floor. No matter how hard he mopped, the air thickened like he was in a burning building. At this point he was genuinely surprised the smoke alarm didn’t go off during this job. “You stupid motherfucking dog! Quit making me clean up after you, you little shithead!”

Once he was certain the shit was completely cleaned up off the floor, he death-marched to the bathroom to flush the mop water down the toilet. His head ached worse than if he had been beaten with hammers. His heart pounded as if a Mortal Kombat character was trying to rip it out. His lower back flared with pain like he had taken a body slam over a pile of razorblades. Tim sat on the toilet and sucked some more wind, confident that his job was finally over.

He had recovered a modicum of his energy before he put the cleaning supplies back in the bathroom closet. Slowly and languidly, he waddled out to the living room and took care not to slip on the wet surface. The only wet surface he had to deal with it that moment was the one on Jade Quinn’s horrified face, an intensification of what she felt when she left for work this morning.

There she was in her business skirt, high heels, and wrinkled dress shirt. She dropped her purse by her feet and stared down Tim’s guilty soul with wetness in her eyes. Her lips quivered as she tried to form a sentence. “T…Tim…did I just…hear you…yelling at Millie?” No response, only a saggy frown to match his guilt. “Answer me!” she cried.

Tim’s own face quivered as he too tried to muster up the words he needed. “Jade, I’m sorry. She…she shit all over the floor and…I panicked…I would never do anything to hurt Millie, you know that, right?”

Pointing her manicured finger at Tim, Jade fought back the rest of her tears in vain as she mumbled, “You…would never…hurt Millie?” Silence hung between the two lovers like a yawning, fiery chasm. “You just did, you insensitive asshole!” Jade dropped to her knees and held her long blond hair in her hands, emptying her eyes of emotional fluids. Millie slowly edged towards her and got a scratch behind the ears from her one true master.

Tim gingerly approached his girlfriend and knelt down to put his massive hand on her shoulder. Jade swatted him away instantly. “Don’t touch me!” she sobbed. “You’ve done enough damage today!” She hugged Millie around her neck and cried into her salt and pepper fur. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m sorry he yelled at you like that.”

Tim stood back up not knowing what else to say. Apologizing didn’t work. Explaining his actions didn’t work. Not even a gentle touch of the shoulder could bring his girlfriend out of her sorrowful abyss. He knew he fucked up badly and could do nothing but sit on the leather couch with his pudgy face in his hands.

“You can’t sit there anymore, Tim,” blubbered Jade. “Not after what you did. This was supposed to be Millie’s special day. I was going to take her to the park and get her ice cream after I got off work. And now…all she’s going to remember is you yelling at her…How could you, Tim?”

“Wha…What do you mean all she’s going to remember? Is that why you played that Linkin Park song this morning? Jade, you can tell me what’s going on.”

Wiping away tears even though they wouldn’t stop coming, Jade lifted her face from her hug with the dog and said, “Millie has stomach cancer. That’s why she’s been going to the bathroom on the floor a lot. And you react to this mild inconvenience by yelling those awful things at her?!”

Tim didn’t notice it when he was cleaning, but now that he thought about it, there were small traces of red in Millie’s stool. The guilt choked him up like a noose around the neck. His eyes grew sore, but he did a better job of hiding his sadness than his girlfriend. Even during this dark time he was too proud to fall apart in front of her. But he couldn’t help it. One tear rolled down his cheek while many more cascaded from Jade’s eyes.

“You know, Jade…there’s no reason…why we can’t still get Millie ice cream.” His voice trembled as he etched out those words.

“Yes, there is!” shouted Jade as she stood back up. “She’ll just shit all over the floor and you’ll scream like a little child again as you clean it up! The only reason why you’re sorry is because you got caught! You don’t care about my dog! You don’t care about my emotions! In fact, get your fat ass off my couch and get dressed! I don’t want you here anymore!”

Tim didn’t get up. He sat there and let another tear roll down his cheek. “I’m sorry, Jade.”

“No, you’re not!” cried Jade as she grabbed Tim’s arm and tried in vain to jerk him to a standing position. When he wouldn’t budge, she just crumpled to a pile on the floor and cried some more, prompting Millie to lick her face dry.

“Jade…if you give me the keys to your car…I will go to the supermarket and buy vanilla ice cream for Millie. She loves vanilla, right?”

“Go to hell, Tim!”

“Listen to me!” urged Tim as he cupped Jade’s shoulders in his hands. “If you still want me gone from here, I’ll go. But please let me get the ice cream for Millie. She deserves that much. Right, old lady?” Tim petted Millie’s head and talked cutely to her about what a good dog she was, even planting a kiss on her wet nose. Millie returned a puppy kiss for his efforts.

Tim then held Jade’s hand in his own and begged, “Please…let me get the ice cream. You can even come with me if you want and we’ll listen to One More Light for as long as you want. I love that song too. And Millie can come ride with us. She can stick her head out the window and…”

“Tim, enough,” said Jade while a holding a hand in front of her boyfriend. She wiped away a tear and sniffed snot up her nose. “I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. She’s just going to shit in the car again and you’ll go on another yelling spree. If anybody’s going to get the ice cream, it’s me.”

With that said, Jade and Millie walked out of the house together for a ride in the car while Tim sat on the couch in his shorts sulking it up. A few tears escaped his eyes and he didn’t bother to wipe them away. It was over. It was all over. Not just for him, but for Millie as well. The puppy kiss didn’t even feel like true forgiveness. Knowing his hands were unclean (in more ways than one), Tim Coleman pulled himself off the couch and trudged back to the bedroom, presumably to get his things and go.

And then…he walked past the kitchen and saw something magnetized to the refrigerator door. He pulled down a familiar sheet of glossy paper and studied it for a while before making his final attempt at goodwill towards Jade and Millie. Wasting no more time, he picked up the phone and dialed a number on the sheet of paper. A few rings later, he was patched in.

“Thank you for choosing Pizza Hut. How can I help you tonight?”

“Yes, I’d like an extra large meat lover’s pizza with stuffed crust.” Tim couldn’t contain his sorrow over the phone and it was noticeable.

“Are you okay, sir?”

“Not really. But I’m sure my dog will be happy to see you once you get here with that pizza.”

Come With Me

Grayson Joseph scanned his ticket at the arena entrance and felt everything as soon as he entered. Every drunken laugh. Every aggressive conversation. Every playful shove. While none of these actions were directed towards him, they all rented space in his mind, swirling in his nervous system at a million miles an hour. He tucked his head as he made his way to the general admission pit in a vain effort to make himself invisible. Were these people casting off their stones at him? No matter how many times Grayson told himself otherwise, his mind would feed him more lies and more psychosis.

Once he found his position in the pit, Grayson kept his head tucked and his eyes averted. For all he knew, he could have been the most noticeable person in the crowd. His skinny build, greasy blond hair, oversized Linkin Park T-shirt, and baggy green khakis would have ordinarily helped him blend into the concert environment, but his mind shoveled more self-hatred and lies into his system. Grayson held his stomach and let out a small burp as his knees grew weaker. He wished Halestorm would just get onstage already and close out this social experiment. He sarcastically thanked his mother for the concert tickets in an effort to further kick himself for his “weakness”.

After a while of socially anxious thoughts and tingles, the lights went out in the arena and the audience cheered their heads off. They clapped, chanted, and roared in anticipation of Halestorm taking the stage. Grayson tried to let out a cheer of his own, but all that came out was a small pop in his throat. This social experiment was not working. Although, he cheered up a little when Lzzy Hale and company took center stage. The band greeted their audience with one of their classics, “American Boys”.

The shredding guitars and Lzzy’s raucous voice helped put Grayson at ease. He found himself bouncing his head up and down to the tune. He relaxed some more and bounced around harder. The more he enjoyed himself, the less judgmental he found the eyes of his fellow audience members. He could take on the world. He could take on an army of moshers. The demons of hell could drag him to the underworld and he’d still be having a night of fun.

But that was only because his confidence went largely unchallenged. The intense fright jolted his system once again when a soft, long-nailed hand brushed across his shoulders. Grayson soon found his hands tenderly gripped by those of an attractive female, dressed in her heavy metal best with the black leather skirt, gothic boots, and pink halter top. Her dyed blue hair and cherry-colored lips completed her seductive look. Grayson didn’t know whether to admire this woman’s beauty or be terrified of her, so he silently took both roads.

The temptress danced in Grayson’s arms, twirling around, dipping backwards, swinging to the left, and swinging to the right. He didn’t reciprocate one single dance move, instead opting to freeze in fear despite the woman’s coaxing. She danced with him some more and Grayson had a knot in his intestines the size of a medicine ball. He also had a tingling sensation in his penis and testicles, so he scrunched his legs together to hide a potential involuntary boner.

What started off as an innocent dance turned dirty in a swift minute when the seductress slowly grinded her butt against Grayson’s groin. His vision grew blurry as he detected several smiles and camera phones lighting up around him. He remained frozen with fear. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to like the attention? Was he supposed to pull away? Why him? Why not more attractive men?

As the questions pooled in his racing mind, the tingling sensation in his groin reached its fever pitch. Sticky liquids crashed against his pants and oozed down his legs, causing his dance partner to jump backwards and cover her mouth in disbelief. Grayson looked down at his pants in an effort to avoid the judgmental stares, but all he got was another reminder to do his laundry the next day. His pants were soaked in his own sexual fluids. Were the people around him laughing or was that his mind playing tricks on him? Were people recording him on their phones or were they recording Lzzy Hale? Grayson touched his pants and wiped his hands on his Linkin Park shirt. He was that drenched and that embarrassed.

“How could you?” he mouthed to the dumbfounded dance partner before running out of the arena as fast as he could. His legs were weak from the orgasm, yet they took him far out of sight. They created distance between himself and the judgmental eyes and laughing voices. He didn’t notice security personnel asking him if he was okay. His tunnel vision took him out of the arena and down the streets of Paulson City, where the ferry terminal was waiting for him.

Grayson’s lungs burned like acid. His chest and ribcage didn’t expand far enough for his comfort. His eyes grew wetter than his pants. His breath intensified into a whirlwind of exhaustion. Yet he continued to run down the street. Neither the psychotic homeless people nor the laughing street thugs could slow him down. His legs matched the speed of his racing mind. Even with his skinny body, he should have had a heart attack with the pace he was going.

When he made it to the terminal, that’s when the acidic feeling in his torso and the numbness of his mind took over. He doubled over and sucked down enough wind for a marathon sprint. His breaths were raspy and squeaky, which drew the attention of the terminal personnel right away. Did they too have judgmental eyes? Did they see him only for his messy pants and not his messy mind? Grayson took a seat at a nearby bench and huddled over to further catch his breath.

“Sir, are you okay?” said a fellow terminal worker decked out in an orange vest and blue uniform. No response. “Sir?” Grayson lifted his head. “Are you okay?”

With a shaky voice, a pink face, and teary eyes, Grayson lied when he said, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just…Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Do you need a glass of water or anything like that? I can get you one if you want.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll be alright. I swear.”

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Sure.”

As soon as the worker walked away, Grayson was truly left alone with his paranoid thoughts. The confusion between arousal and terror. The dangerous beauty. The seduction that led him to his downfall, not unlike the sirens he read about in horror and fantasy books. “Why me?” he asked himself. “Why not somebody else.” Grayson wiped away a lonely tear and for the first time noticed how badly his hands and legs were shaking. “I look awful…I am awful…”

These thoughts pounded in his head like Arejay Hale’s drum kit, a sound he couldn’t listen to ever again without being reminded of his molestation. No more Halestorm. No more rock and roll. Worst of all, no more rock concerts. “I should have just stayed home and read more fantasy novels.”

“What was that?” said a nearby worker.

“Nothing.”

Grayson spent so long in the psychotic doldrums that he just then noticed a large crowd of former concertgoers filing into the ferry station. They wore T-shirts of their favorite bands and smiles on their intimidating faces. Did these people record his humiliation and post it online? Did these people want to judge him some more? Did these people find comedy in his pain? He could feel it all as they walked past him. Some looked down at his khakis in disgust, others in pity.

A gentleman in a Metallica T-shirt and short brown hair approached Grayson and the latter could feel his stomach aching and twisting yet again. The man asked, “Do you know that chick?”

“No…I have no idea who she is.” Grayson’s eyes couldn’t even meet this stranger’s face.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. After you ran out of the building, the security tossed her out on the streets. They weren’t having any of it. Lzzy was pissed too.”

That didn’t bring him any comfort. It just made Grayson tuck his head further into himself. “I’m so fucking embarrassed right now.”

“You’re embarrassed?”

“Yeah…I don’t even want to get on the ferry with these people…I want to go home and get changed, but…”

“Want a glass of water?”

Grayson smiled sadly and joked, “Do you have a cyanide pill I can swallow with it?”

Waving his hand, the stranger said, “Nah, don’t do that shit. It ain’t worth it. Yeah, there were some jackasses laughing, but it ain’t everyone. Come on, the ferry’s going to be here soon.”

The stranger extended his hand and Grayson allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The latter said, “I didn’t even buy a ticket yet. I should probably do that.”

“Nah, you don’t have to buy squat. It’s Earth Day. Public transportation is free. Did you already forget today was Earth Day?”

“Trust me, I won’t be able to forget today no matter how hard I try.” The two of them boarded the ferry together amongst the crowd of metal-heads. Grayson almost thought of this kind stranger as a shield from the terrifying eyes and lit phone screens around him. “How come you’re not laughing at me right now?”

“Because that shit ain’t funny,” said the stranger. “It wasn’t funny when it happened to Chester Bennington, may he rest in peace, and it wasn’t funny when it happened to you. I see you got the shirt on. Nice! I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Grayson. Nice to meet you.”

The two of them shook hands, though Grayson worried that he got sticky stuff on Steve’s palm. Steve said, “We’re metal heads. We got to look out for each other. We’re one big family.”

“I just hope the guys on Rock Feed and Loudwire’s You Tube videos feel the same way when they see what happened to me.”

“It’s the internet. There’re going to be a few assholes here and there. But you know who’s not going to be ashamed of you? The guys in Halestorm. They don’t think that shit’s funny either.”

“That’s wonderful, but I don’t think I can listen to a Halestorm song again without thinking of…you know…” said Grayson referencing his stained trousers.

“I wouldn’t give up on rock and roll so easily if I were you. It’s brought you peace and comfort this far into your life. It might save your life again. Think about that for a minute.” Steve patted Grayson on the back before heading off to the ferry’s bathroom.

Grayson would take him up on thinking about that. He did so in a faraway corner of the ship where the shadows covered him up from the masses. “What a night,” he said as he sat down huddled over, his mind still racing. How long would it take for his mind to slow down? How many laundry cycles would it take to get the splooge out of his pants and underwear? Would the femme fatale be arrested for her actions or would Grayson become a laughing stock to the police too? The only reason his mind stopped asking so many damn questions was because he fell asleep in his chair. A temporary vacation was just what he needed. He could think about it tomorrow. But tonight, it was all over…at least for now.

Goodbye Maggie

***GOODBYE MAGGIE***

Tomorrow afternoon, Dale and I are going to the vet to put our dog Maggie to sleep. She has lived to be sixteen years old, much older than normally expected for her breed. During the final moments of those sixteen years, she’s had a litany of health problems that justify euthanasia. She was blind, deaf, weak, incontinent, physically unstable, and an all around sick dog. She’s constantly in pain and there’s only so much we can do for her before having to make this ultimate decision.

Maggie came into my life in 2005 when her owner, Dale, married my mom in his original home state of Wyoming. She was accompanied by another Springer Spaniel dog named Molly. The two of them would bounce, play, and wrestle happily together all the time. Maggie’s favorite toy was a blue ball that she would fetch while Molly’s was a leather Frisbee. I’ll always remember Maggie and Molly getting in a tug-of-war over the Frisbee and Molly would get an unfair advantage by shaking her head.

Three years ago on Father’s Day, Molly passed away due to lung cancer and it was a death that hit all of us hard, especially Dale. Three years later, here we are again in the month of June having to watch Molly’s adopted sister Maggie be put to sleep. Sixteen years. Sixteen fucking years and it’s all over. Given her declining health, it was a foregone conclusion, but that doesn’t soften the blow that our family will no doubt feel.

There isn’t a whole lot left to say except for goodbye to our elderly ray of puppy sunshine. Rest in peace, Saggy-Maggie. You will be missed dearly.

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“If they say who cares if one more light goes out? In a sky of a million stars, it flickers, flickers. Who cares when someone’s time runs out? If a moment is all we are, we’re quicker, quicker. Who cares if one more light goes out? Well, I do.”

-Linkin Park singing “One More Light”-

Upcoming Concerts

***UPCOMING CONCERTS***

Instead of posting four separate blog entries detailing my upcoming concerts, I’m going to kill all four of those birds with one stone. Actually, I shouldn’t do that, because killing birds with stones is fucking cruel (even if they are woodpeckers who pound on my walls at six in the morning). As per usual, these concerts (or mini-vacations as I call them) may or may not affect my ability to compete in WSS and/or engage in other creative activities, depending on my mental energy for those free days. Then again, they’re spaced far enough apart, so it may be a non-issue. Anyways, let’s get started.

This coming Friday night, I’m headed to the Pantaegus (SP?) Theater in Tacoma with my brother James and my dad to see Brian Regan perform standup comedy. James and Dad have been huge fans of his since the late 80’s and early 90’s. I haven’t followed Brian Regan as closely as they have, but this night will be a chance for the three of us to see each other nonetheless. My visits with Dad are few and far between save for Father’s Day, his birthday, and Christmas. This will be good for all of us. I hope Brian Regan is on his A-game Friday night, because I could use a good laugh.

The following Tuesday (August 1^st), I’m headed over to the White River Amphitheater in Auburn to see Green Day in concert, with their opening act being Catfish and the Bottlemen (whoever they are). I’ve seen Green Day twice in my life, once in 2005 at the Tacoma Dome and once in 2009 at the Key Arena in Seattle. Both times they’ve invited members of the audience to come onstage to help play songs. I play the piano myself, but I don’t think Billie Joe is going to call on me to keep up with him during “The Forgotten”. It should be an awesome show like always.

On August 9^th, Metallica is coming to Seattle’s Century Link Field with Avenged Sevenfold and Gojira opening for them. I’ve never seen any of these three bands before, but I know Metallica is going to be something special due to their involvement with bringing thrash metal to life in the 80’s. My first Metallica CD was “Ride the Lightning” and I listened to that one a lot as a small child. I listened to “Load” and the black album quite a bit in my teenaged years. I purchased their other albums and played them on shuffle in preparation for the concert.

And finally, on August 19^th, Incubus is coming to the White River Amphitheater with their opening act being Jimmy Eat World. I’ve seen Incubus two times before, once in 2004 at the Key Arena and once in 2012 at the Tacoma Dome when they opened for Linkin Park (rest in peace, Chester). Incubus recently came out with their eighth album, which is appropriately titled 8, and my favorite songs from that CD are “No Fun”, “Throw Out the Map” and “When I Became a Man” (as weird as that last one is).

The fifth item on this list of shows would have been Linkin Park playing at the Key Arena in Seattle with Snoop Dogg opening for them. But as we all found out this past Thursday, Chester Bennington committed suicide by hanging at the age of 41 and left a huge hole in the hearts of his loved ones, band mates, and fans. The surviving members of Linkin Park decided to cancel the rest of their One More Light tour out of respect for Chester. I can’t stress enough how depressing this news is. Linkin Park has been a huge part of my teenaged and adult life and they’ll always have a special place in my music collection. Maybe these other bands I’m seeing will pay tribute to Chester in some way whether it’s covering a Linkin Park song or a simple shout-out. That would be a touching sentiment. 

Rest in Peace, Chester Bennington

***REST IN PEACE, CHESTER BENNINGTON***

This morning (July 20^th, 2017), the lead singer of Linkin Park, Chester Bennington, committed suicide by hanging. When I first heard the news on Face Book, I thought I was going to bawl my eyes out right then and there. Linkin Park has been a huge part of my life since 2002 when I was experiencing schizophrenia in my senior year of high school. Their hard rock sound and thoughtful lyrics helped me through those tough times. I first heard their Hybrid Theory album when I was in gym class lifting weights. I saved up enough money and purchased that CD in 2003 and it become a huge part of getting me through Olympic College. My favorite songs on that album were Paper Cut, Place For My Head, and the bonus track My December. Ever since then, I’ve been buying Linkin Park albums until I had every last one of them.

I’ve seen Linkin Park in concert twice in my life, once in 2003 (or 2004) at the Tacoma Dome and once in 2012 at the same venue with Incubus opening for them. Both times, Chester was on his A-game with his aggressive vocals when it counted and softer crooning when we needed to be brought back to earth. In 2012, he paid tribute to the Beastie Boys when he screamed the vocals for “Sabotage” in the wake of MCA’s untimely death. The music nerd within me was going nuts during those performances. I was jumping up and down and moshing with the best of them, even during times of poor diets and bad exercise habits.

Their most recent album, One More Light, received a lot of criticism from diehard fans for being too much of a pop record instead of staying true to their roots. While it is true that experimenting with music can sometimes end badly, that’s not the case with this album, at least in my opinion. Yes, it’s different from what we’re used to hearing, but I love it nonetheless. My favorites on that album include Nobody Can Save Me, Heavy, and One More Light. I was looking forward to hearing those songs at my upcoming third time seeing Linkin Park live this October.

Speaking of the concert, the status of Linkin Park as a band is up in the air right now because of Chester’s death. Chances are, the concert date might be moved to a later time or it might be cancelled altogether. Maybe Mike Shinoda, who normally raps for Linkin Park, can take over Chester’s vocals. Maybe they’ll get a temporary stand-in until they can find someone permanent. Then again, there’s always the chance Linkin Park could break up over this. They haven’t released an official statement yet (it’s too early to do so), but I’m anxiously awaiting one in the weeks to come.

In the wake of Chester’s suicide, he left behind a wife and many children as well as his band mates. Having said that, I don’t believe it’s right to cast anger upon him for this or accuse him of being “selfish”. Never forget that the man had a lot of emotional trauma to deal with. He was raped repeatedly as a child by an older friend, he was a hardcore drug addict, he was bullied and beaten in high school, and his only escape from it all was Linkin Park. When you’re dealing with that much pain and agony, selfishness is the last reason in the world that should be applied. Psychological trauma is just as agonizing as any physical ailment, maybe even worse. Chester’s suicide left a huge hole in my heart as well as those of everyone around him. May he rest peacefully and may those who loved him recover from their heartache.

Gray Days

***GRAY DAYS***

If you live in the Pacific Northwest like I do, you would have noticed the overwhelming number of gray days during the summer season. Hell, it might be happening in other parts of the country or even the world, but Pacific Northwest weather is notorious for catering to gray days. It could be sunny one minute and pouring down rain to the point of flood conditions the next.

Anybody who knows the old me knows I would have constantly complained about gray rainy weather. It’s not the best to go walking in, especially if I’m thirsty for a bubbly beverage and the convenience store is around the corner. Now that I’m 31 years old and have a more mature outlook on life, I’ve learned to love the gray days, even during the summer season. If I was that thirsty all the time, I could just make a pitcher of ice cold iced tea. Yum-yum-yum! If I was so bored that I needed to go for a walk to clear my head, there’s nothing stopping me from bumming a ride from my family to the YMCA. They have a jogging track upstairs and a shallow swimming pool on the bottom floor; how hard could that be to comprehend?

I didn’t realize until recently how wonderful gray days can be for getting creative work done. Or if I just want to be lazy that day, I could just take a nap while there’s new age music playing in the background. Smokey seems to agree with the latter ten times out of ten. The low barometric pressure during gray days can make anyone sleepy enough to want a nap because of the lack of oxygen, which is a major source of energy for the human body. If you feel sleepy, give into it. The creative work will always be there for you when you’re ready for it. If you’re in school, however, it’s probably a good idea to turn your work in on time and in tiptop condition.

And then there are people who enjoy running around in rainy weather. The cold rain definitely feels good on the skin after a long day of exercise. I remember going to a Linkin Park concert with my brother James at the Tacoma Dome in 2003. After we jumped up and down for a lot of their songs, the rain felt so good to us that we didn’t bother putting our jackets back on. That’s part of the reason why I’m not worried about rainy weather happening on the same day as my July and August concerts, which take place in an outdoor amphitheater. If Korn, Rob Zombie, and In This Moment get my cardio going for god knows how many hours, I’m going to love that sweet cold rain.

It’s true, folks: I have nothing better to write a journal about than gray days. I don’t know what else I could say about them, so I’m just going to sign off and give you all updates on my creative projects.

***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

The new contest got started this past Tuesday and the prompt for the week is “Piece By Piece”. For the second week in a row, my short story is a modern day drama and will therefore be shelved under “American Darkness 2: Black State”. It’s called “Toy Trauma” and it goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

Kevin Hunt, Toy-Loving Child

Marty Hunt, Kevin’s Father

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Marty dismantles the action figure piece by piece.

SYNOPSIS: Ever since gaining custody of Kevin in a nasty divorce, Marty has been stressed out to where even the smallest incidents send him into a screaming rage. One morning during breakfast, Kevin brings his favorite action figure to the table with him and plays with it a little too loudly for his father’s tastes. After several unanswered warnings to his son, Marty grabs the action figure and snaps its arms and legs off. The toy abuse leaves Kevin in a fit of tears and even causes him to say that he hates his father. Is this enough for Marty to realize how far off the deep end he’s gone or will he always be a sourpuss?

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

I’m sure you all noticed the recent uploads of Rook Maxwell and Edward Glass and hopefully you’ve enjoyed them. Coming up next is a character from the villain department. He’s Jax Nightshade and he’s a dark paladin from “Medicine Man”, a short story I submitted to one of the WSS’s monthly contests. For some reason they aren’t doing monthly contests anymore. I don’t know if the admins forgot or if they’re legitimately discontinuing them due to a lack of activity. Either way, the Medicine Man himself is going to be immortalized. Be on the lookout for a dark paladin badass!

***READING TASKS***

As of today, I have three different authors to (beta) read from: Andy Peloquin (Lament of the Fallen), Marie Krepps (What Money Can’t Buy), and Zero Urrea (Rake). I have no problem with the workload, because when I have the energy, I can get anything done in record time. The past few days haven’t been kind to me in terms of energy. Sleep apnea had really been kicking my ass and making me too sluggish to get anything done. To those who rely on my help, I’m sorry. But I can safely say that I’m doing something about my lack of energy. I requested an appointment with my sleep study doctor and he’s going to teach me how to use a CPAP machine, which will give me oxygen while I’m sleeping and my windpipe is flat. I’m also going to start going to the gym more often with James. My workout will start off with thirty minutes of walking around the track and end with weightlifting. So far, it seems to be paying off. Let’s keep that shit going!

***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Enzo Amore is so skinny he could hang glide with a Dorito. He already looks like a bird.”

-Jerry “The King” Lawler-

Rhys Jambi

Pirate culture was something I wasn’t always emotionally invested in. Even after watching two movies from the Pirates of the Caribbean series and watching an anime called One Piece, I couldn’t get behind the culture. What finally changed my mind about it was joining a Good Reads group aptly called Weekly Short Story Contests and Company, which I’m still a proud member of. We posts stories and poems and get awesome feedback whether it’s in the form of praise or critique. But more importantly, this Good Reads group has a pirate motif. It’s not just an internet group; it’s a pirate ship complete with talking mice, roughhousing, and swashbuckling. God, I love the internet!

Which brings me to Rhys Jambi, who would have been lost in the dark recesses of my character archives if it wasn’t for me joining the WSS group and being influenced by piracy. Not much is known about Mr. Jambi except via a crappy drawing I did of him in 2006, a time when the men looked like sticks, the women looked like men, and neither of them had a lot of extraordinary details. Rhys didn’t have a story to be a part of, which is probably why he’s only known through that crappy drawing. From what anybody could gather, he had tall spiky hair, baggy pants, sandals, and a giant sword with a crescent hook at the end of it instead of a point, much like the one owned by Tidus from Final Fantasy X.

So now that Mr. Jambi is known only through the drawing, it’s time to give him a personality of some kind. The pirate is not an official Dungeons & Dragons class (at least according to 3.5 edition standards), but if it were, the characters who portrayed it could be any alignment it want as long as it was non-lawful. As it turns out, hostile takeovers of other people’s ships don’t constitute the behavior of people who obey the law. Isn’t that right, Captain Phillips? Okay, that was in poor taste, but you get the point, right?

Despite freely breaking the social contract, pirates can still be either good, evil, or neutral. Once a decision is made in that regard, there still needs to be a decision made whether Rhys Jambi will be chaotic or neutral. Since I only have a small space to make those decisions, I elect that he be a mixture of all those non-lawful alignments. He can rape and pillage one minute and save a kitten from a tree the next. If I’m going to have him undertake an ambiguous alignment like that, it means he can’t do something so horrible he crosses the Moral Event Horizon. Otherwise, Mr. Jambi won’t be believable. I could make him believable if I gave him Multiple Personality Disorder, but I feel like that would be exploiting people with mental illnesses.

Aside from what I’ve already said in this post, Rhys Jambi is a clean slate. I’m sure he’ll adapt comfortably to whatever role I assign him. What could possibly go wrong? It’s like hiring a guy with no job history but a reputable education. Yes, it’s true he’s never had a job before, but he’s young and a go-getter. Shouldn’t that be enough? It sounds like I’m trying to sell this talking point to a future employer, but that ship sailed when I terminated my contract with the Department of Vocational Rehab years ago. Wait a minute, did I just make a ship analogy in a blog post about a pirate? I swear that was an accident. However, if he’s going to be a chaotic pirate, he needs a ship.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“Careful where you shoot, because you might hit what you aim for.”

-Linkin Park singing “Keys to the Kingdom”-

"Sabotage" by The Beastie Boys

I wouldn’t have my first Beastie Boys album until 2005 and it would be seven years later when Linkin Park would cover “Sabotage” at their Tacoma Dome concert with Incubus. In the summer of 2001, my education into King Adrock, MCA, and Mike-D would begin early with “Sabotage”, which sounds more like heavy metal than hip-hop.

My sophomore year of high school was winding down into vacation mode. Yes, I was still going to WF West in Shit-halis, I mean, Chehalis, but my sophomore year was much better than my freshman year. School still sucked, but things were getting better. My mental health was improving, I was introduced to Starcraft and Diablo II, I was hanging out with my neighbors Winn and Duncan more often, I had romantic crushes on two girls named Shona and Autumn, and finally, the Beastie Boys’ music was entering my life. Can you think of a better way to spend 2001?

So what exactly am I sabotaging with this nu metal song? Am I sabotaging the plans of my enemies to destroy my life with a stupid rumor? That must be it, because I’m still here today writing blog entries, novels, short stories, god knows what else. Maybe that song was an anthem for refusing to be a victim. I did watch a lot of WWE and ECW in those days, so maybe that tough guy mentality fused with “Sabotage’s” heavy flow was enough to create some bravery within me.

In the early 2000’s, bravery would mean something entirely different for me. It would be confused with belligerence, which means I absolutely had to insult and punch out everybody who attacked me even in the smallest ways. I took that mentality into battle with me in 2002 when I got into a mass argument on Play By Web over a foolish thing like age limits in adult games.

In 2005, I mellowed out a little bit. Not completely, but enough to be a part of a normal society. I still had my internet arguments here and there, but I’m proud to say I’ve never been to jail over my belligerent actions (not because I didn’t get caught, but because no crime was ever committed in the first place). I mellowed out just in time to be reintroduced to the music of The Beastie Boys. My brother bought three albums: Licensed to Ill, Hello Nasty, and To the 5 Burroughs, the latter of which cemented my status as a hardcore American liberal.

In 2012, tragedy struck the world of music when MCA lost his battle with throat cancer. Normally when a band member departs, a replacement is quickly found. It’s not so easy with The Beastie Boys’ music. They tend to drop their own names in their music, so finding someone to acknowledge themselves as MCA would be damned near impossible. The man was irreplaceable anyways. His lyrics were awesome, his rhythm was even more so, and he was an all-around great human being. He wasn’t an out-of-control jackass like a lot of celebrities today are. MCA was down to earth and he will always be remembered for his wonderful legacy. Rest in peace, Adam Yauch.

When I went to see Linkin Park and Incubus at the Tacoma Dome of that year, Linkin Park did a cover of “Sabotage” as a tribute to MCA (even though the song was technically sung by Adrock). With Chester Bennington screaming with passion into the microphone, it was a heavy and raucous tribute to one of the greatest rap bands of all time.

To think all of this history was made over one nu metal song. It’s like a domino effect: one thing leads to another and before you know it, a legacy is created. Every artist in the world can relate to the domino effect of life. Our life events, the media we take in, the people we associate with, they all come together as a palette for the artwork that is the human race. Everybody has a legacy of some kind and it’s because of that nobody is ever truly forgotten when they pass. Isn’t that right, Mr. Yauch?

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“You’ve been in the game and your career is long, but when you really break it down, you’ve only got two songs.”

-MCA rapping “Hey Fuck You” by The Beastie Boys-

"Robot Boy" by Linkin Park

“You say you’re not going to fight ‘cause no one will fight for you.” This is the opening line to “Robot Boy” and every time I hear it, it stays true. Even though I live a passive life, I’m still an independent author and I still have my own battles to fight. I’m fighting for a steady payday, recognition, immortalization, and most importantly, love and friendship. Even the simplest of these list items seems like an uphill confrontation. Though it seems like I have allies in these struggles, help seems so far away.

Then again, the music of Linkin Park has always documented the band’s uphill struggles. Chester Bennington has his own family trauma to contend with. Mike Shinoda fights for his Japanese culture, especially since his father was interned in 1942. These two lead vocalists speak for everybody when they’re fighting the good fight. Is it any wonder why they have such a strong fan base?

I don’t know exactly which path Linkin Park took in order to become the voice of the voiceless. I don’t want to say they got lucky, because that would be disrespectful of the way they became successful musicians. I too wish to be a voice of the voiceless, but as you can plainly see, I only live vicariously through Chester and Mike. I have some fame, but not enough for people to listen to what I have to say. Self-published e-books and blogs will only go so far. And when the path to success is buried underneath mounds of dirt, it becomes hard to tell where you are.

“Someday the weight of the world will give you the strength to go.” The weight of the world represents the burdens us artists must bear on our path to the top. Constant weightlifting builds muscle. Our worldly burdens will therefore make us stronger for the experience. If nothing else, they give us creative fuel so that our wells don’t run dry too soon.

I hope this song and the story of Linkin Park in general can be creative fuel to my readers as these things have been to me. Despite my passive lifestyle, I can still throw a powerful punch to every demon that opposes me. I may not throw many punches, but one of these days, my one powerful shot will earn me a knockout victory over the forces working against me. Then and only then will I be able to rest peacefully myself. I’m leaving my mark on the world one way or another. Whether it’s in the form of a black eye or a warm hug remains to be seen.

　

***PROVERB OF THE DAY***

“The true definition of insanity is doing the same thing every day and expecting different results.”

-Albert Einstein-