- I show up late for things pretty often
- I saw derekhuff mention allergies, and that is something I can relate to. I have tons of them. Nuts, beans, peas, mushrooms, olives, cat & dog hair, dander, and saliva, and dozens of pollens, molds, and fungi.
- I’ve never broken a bone. I have acromion/clavicular separation, which has left me with a bone jutting out of my shoulder, but it isn’t a break!
- I like plenty of music that isn’t (GASP) METAL. Some of my favorite non-metal artists/bands are Frank Zappa, King’s X, Soundgarden, Aphex Twin, Umphrey’s McGee, Wesley Willis, Weezer, Django Reinhardt, Beethoven, Wagner, and hundreds of Japanese guys you’ve never heard of that composed the soundtracks of hundreds of Nintendo and Super Nintendo games.
- I have a Piggly Wiggly “PIG POWER” card in Yngwie J. Malmsteen’s name. You probably don’t know who that is, but trust me, it is pretty hilarious that I’ve bought at least $500 worth of groceries in my lifetime under his name.
This is my first Tumblr post, and as such, I gave it an appropriately gay title. Feign excitement as I give you some random facts about the real person inside the evil video game and various opinions on random crap. WARNING - LONG AS FUCK.
- I’M A REAL PERSON. I’m often accused of being a bot. This is false.
- I DON’T EAT PEOPLE FOR A LIVING. In real life, I have a degree in Geographic Information Systems. I make maps, build databases, and do scary things with location data (when I have a job.)
- I’M ACTUALLY A NICE PERSON. I’ve said some horrible things that could be considered offensive (BY WEAKLINGS) that don’t necessarily represent my actual personality. In real life, I am a caring, loving person. I say horrible things because it’s fun. Which leads me to…
- I DON’T TAKE ANYTHING SERIOUSLY. To quote Dimebag Darrell on the music industry, “Most people take this shit seriously. To me, it’s just one big jackoff session.” That is my view on everything. I’m just having a good time. My driving motivation behind everything that I do is “Is this fun/will this lead to fun?” That is the only reason I pursue anything - to eventually be in a state of perpetual fun. If you aren’t at work today to make money to have a good time at some point, then you are failing at life. We only live once. Have a good time and stop being so uptight about things that don’t matter. On that subject -
- IT’S JUST TWITTER. I see this one argued a lot. Since 100% of all of the traffic to this blog will be from Twitter, I feel like I need to cover this. And don’t think for a second that this is aimed at a single individual. This is aimed at the thousands of people I have witnessed over the last 3 years getting way too serious about microblogging.
Do the things we say on the internet matter? Only if you bring your feelings. Leave that shit at home with the people you love. Sure, you can love people you meet on the internet, but what I mean is don’t piss and moan about jokes. They are jokes. If you are on Twitter to actually communicate real things with people, then that is a different story altogether. However, I suspect that anyone reading this right now came for the jokes. If you came to the Twitter for the joke party and not the “I’m eating cereal” tweets, expect jokes about everything you love and possibly even a joke at your expense. I get them all the time. Always have. I’m a long-haired fat dude from Alabama with a bunny rabbit as a pet and a passion for 80’s video games and extreme death metal. The jokes write themselves. I’VE WRITTEN THEM. Hundreds of times in hundreds of different ways. When someone else makes those jokes, I laugh. If I laugh, they get a star.
Speaking of stars, shut up. Just be funny. Endless tweets about stars, followers, and THE LEADERBOARD are annoying as fuck. I’m not gonna lie, I love stars. I love giving them and receiving them. (NOTE - I said stars, not blowjays.) But my ability to have a good time doesn’t hinge on stars. If I never get another star again, it changes nothing. I’m just having a good time and you should be too. IT’S JUST TWITTER. Nay, THEY’RE JUST WORDS. I’ll go one step further - SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOUR FIRST WORLD WHITE PERSON PROBLEMS. IF YOU GOT TO EAT TODAY WITHOUT CATCHING MALARIA, SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT WHATEVER CRAP YOU ARE BITCHING ABOUT.
I know, I know, this post could be construed as bitching. I fully grasp the irony and hypocrisy here, but I’d like to think of it more as waking you up. This is a harsh, terrible world. People get killed in it. The vast majority of potential people on this planet are never even born. There are so many better things to worry about other than silly words on the screen. You and I are both fortunate to have these places where we can exchange horrible jokes without having our hands cut off or our genitals mutilated. Stop fucking it up by whining about dumb shit. JUST HAVE A GOOD TIME.
- I PLAY GUITAR. This is probably not news to anyone, but it is an integral part of what I am as a person, so I want to talk about it. It is one of the few things that I am truly passionate about, so I am going to share a story with you that will be particularly relevant if you are a musician.
I have played guitar for 18 years. EIGHTEEN FUCKING YEARS. Three times in 18 years, I have been on the cusp of being in a successful, signed, touring-and-living-the-dream band. Obviously, none of those opportunities ever panned out into a career. Most recently, in January, a band that I loved called me to audition for them. This band is signed to Metal Blade (THIS IS A BIG FUCKING DEAL) and was seeking to employ me for a tour opening for several bands I have adored since I was a teenager. I recorded an audition video, sent it, and was accepted and hired within 30 minutes of sending the video. We talked business, agreed on dates that I would travel to practice with the band, and both parties left the conversation “stoked as fuck” about the whole thing. Time passed. As the date that I was to practice with them approached, I began needing to make arrangements for the trip out of state. In the most unprofessional and inexplicable way, the band NEVER CONTACTED ME AGAIN. Not to tell me why they were no longer interested, not to tell me they’d had a change of heart, NOTHING.
I’m now 30 and having an increasingly difficult time chasing and feeling capable of achieving “The Dream.” It has been a struggle to deal with and the source of a great deal of depression. Since I was 12, the only thing I have ever truly wanted to do with my life is play guitar. Not for fame, even. Just to survive. Just to have a small following of people to keep me barely financially stable. That is all. I’m rambling like fuck right now, so to get to the point of all this, don’t let “THE DREAM” sour your passion. This can apply to everyone, not just musicians, although this story in particular is one of a musical nature. “THE DREAM” can ruin you if you let it. I let this last opportunity sour my passion for a while. I went several months without playing guitar at all. I felt like the dream had lied to me and that I was wasting my time, that I wasn’t good enough, etc. What a crock of shit. I realized I was breaking one of my own commandments, THOU SHALT JUST HAVE A GOOD TIME. I love guitar. Even when I’m playing by myself (FAP FAP FAP), I love guitar. When I finally picked it up again recently, it was like losing my virginity again. Don’t let demons drag you down when it comes to something you love. We all have dreams. They will choke the life out of you if you let them. Don’t let your aspirations define who you are. Do what you love, even if you starve doing it. I will likely die a poor, gray shredder. I’ve accepted that, and now I am free. (NOTE: Yes, I know the irony of spending half of this blog telling you what not to care about, then ending it with a giant, near-unreadable borefest about some crap that I care about. SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO DIE.)
- SORRY ABOUT THE LONG BLOG POST. No I’m not.
- SORRY ABOUT THE LACK OF PROPER FORMATTING. Lies.
I’m realizing that I could go on about stupid things all day, but I’m going to stop here, abruptly, without even so much as a proper ending.