Finished

Well, I finally finished my first book. Let me tell you, there is a lot more in that undertaking than you first think. Now I have more time so I'll be able to write more shit and post it on here. I guess it really doesn't matter since no one follows this shit anyways. I guess I don't rant as much as I used to, but I don't drink as much as I used to either. I have a lot of shit finished but I have to type it up, and god only knows how long that shit will take me. I may even never get around to doing it. Right now I'm trying to find a fucking band, which is proving more difficult than I first thought. Tried out for some shit and jammed with some dudes, but haven't really found anyone that is into the same shit as I am. Who knows? Probably never will. Other than that, I'm in a new city, I have no friends, and really no life to speak of. Shit, I can't even make friends on the fucking internet. How fucking lame is that?! That really shows how antisocial I've become. So, I guess this post is done. I really only wanted to brag that I finished my book, but since no one reads this, I'm only doing it for myself. Well fuck it, who cares, right? Since I woke up early because I'm a fucking insomniac, I'm going to get to work on writing some fucking songs. As if writing any of this shit really fucking matters. Ha ha. Who am I kidding?

Stranglehold By O'Neal Rodges

These are some lyrics I wrote for this one band that did nothing and went nowhere. I think I took the lyrics and put them to another song later on, but I don't think we ever played it as The Reprehensibles. I think its safe to say that we were pretty drunk when we were in that band, so memories are a little foggy, to say the least.

Stranglehold

Since I was a boy, freedom was something I could not grasp
Read about what my forefathers wanted in the past
I thought America was free, but never understood
You can only be free if you pay elected hoods

If this tyranny is freedom, what is it like to live in Guam
Being fed from a dictators palm
Only in America we're fed blood money and oil
The rich men laugh as the poor men toil

So what the fuck are we supposed to do?
Live life in a stranglehold
Or just hang from a noose
Hope the legs on the chair don't fold
I won't hang by the neck, I'll string up all of you
When I cut the rope from my neck, what the fuck are you going to do?

Well, I'm a man now, and I see right through their shit
Hope you're not a fool who believes any of it
The fucking media will tell you all sorts of lies
Come up with your own conclusions, thats how I get by
I'll never be happy with this corporate country
Because it wasn't designed for me
If this is what patriots wanted, why the fuck did they die?
I'm a new kind of patriot that's not satisfied

It feels like I'm chasing
Figments of my imagination
Running myself ragged
Over things that can never be
But when the face of freedom looks me in the eye and laughs
And says you cant catch me
I'll shoot that fucker in the legs, so he cant get away

...And Found By O'Neal Rodges

This was a song that I wrote for my old band The Reprehensibles. I'm not sure if we ever recorded it in the studio, but I do know that there is a live demo of it floating around somewhere. If you want to check out other recordings just go to www.myspace.com/reprehensibles. You can see pics of me with short hair, and talk shit about how we broke up. Its fun for the whole family!

...And Found

A kick to the ribs, a punch to the face
A knife in my back puts me in my place
Bloody and violent I'll still state my case
Feels like I'm going faster but I never changed my pace

That smile of yours makes the whole world melt
Gives me a feeling I've never felt
I want heaven but can't get out of hell
Another beating with a fucking belt

I'm going to bring you down to were I'm going to be
Because misery loves company
I want to destroy all of humanity
Because misery loves company

Feel the pain and the state of shock
I was born with nothing but bad luck
I writhe in pain, face down in the muck
I scream for help, no one gives a fuck

Hopes and dreams, everything is smashed
Tried to get on easy street, but I fucking crashed
With nothing but heartache in the past
Someone give me your hand because I'm sinking fast

I'm tired of the bullshit, tired of the lies
Sick of that fucking look in your eyes
Death with a glance, now I want to die
But I haven't yet, to my surprise

We're all going to die, all going to rot
I want to cut your throat and watch the blood clot
For all the times you never fought
And the bullshit life you fucking sought...
... And Found

Totally Bitchin' Sweetness

Well, I have now started working on my first ebook. Its about skateboarding, and right now it is still in the planning stage. I'm still pretty stoked about it, nonetheless, and have been working on it just about nonstop. I decided the other day that I was going to start posting some songs and stuff that I wrote, along with some other poetry crap. This may or may not prove to be entertaining, who knows?

As for when I'm going to get around to writing all of that shit out, I really dont know. Yeah, yeah I know, I've been slacking on this for some months now, but hey, I got other shit on my plate right now.

Other than that I have no news, and will try to get something on this poor excuse for a blog whenever I have time.

Ya never know, it may be sooner than you think.

support burzum!!!

thats really all you have to do. click the link and support varg vikernes!

Sick of it

i am so sick of hearing about michael jackson i think im going to go crazy. i really hate all of those stupid shows that do nothing but talk about what famous persons ass got fatter or what famous person is fucking some other famous person. who the fuck cares what happened to bubbles the chimp after michael gave him up? hopefully he went to a proper monkey facility to live out his monkey days. its sad that we as a society are so obsessed with death, especially the death of a famous person. nobody seems to give a shit about farrah faccet. dont get me wrong, thriller was a great album, but i really dont give a shit about any of the other shit these, so called reporters, are saying. i find it hard to believe that anyone would. who cares if michael had a secret girlfriend? just because he's a celebrity doesnt mean his life is automatically open to the general public. give it a fucking rest. who cares what women michael fucked when he was alive? i know i sure dont because i thought he was fucking guys for a long ass time. what i can tell you is that the man obviously wanted privacy about the matter, and that should be respected, even in death. just because the man was famous, and is now dead, doesnt give anyone the right to pick apart every aspect of his life, like vultures picking at a corpse. let the dead die, once and for all.

Welly Welly Well!!

Well, I've been doing a lot of freelance work recently. Its been pretty fun and I have to say that having a job you like is much better than serving assholes coffee and donuts all day long. Its actually a big relief. So now I write some kind of something everyday, whether its an ad or a blog or whatever. I guess it beats a real job, or what some people would call a real job. I'm just glad I got this opportunity and that its actually working out for me. The Rangers have been doing good to, so that is always good news. As far as creative projects, I havent really made the time for them right now since I'm trying to get paid and what not. But I should have some other stuff posted soon. Yeah I know, it seems like I havent posted a new story in a long time, and I havent, but its a lot harder than some people might think. So those doubting that I do anything can know that I do work, so its not always easy to get around to everything I would like. Hopefully soon though, with any luck. Until next time, which will hopefully be sooner than later.
Cheers,
Your faithful town drunk