I want to start a one man “band” making loud, angry, destructive heavy music. This is going to be quite a process:
1.))) Dust off my guitar and start jamming.
2.))) Dust off Stacy’s old keyboard, and our Grandpa’s fucking bad-ass electric organ, and relearn how to rock out on keys.
3.))) Procure a drum set and start banging on shit, freaking out like Animal and generally annoying everybody into submission.
4.))) Soundproof the basement (just kidding, sister…)
5.))) Record a shitty demo, transfer it to tape, and hang out in front of record stores in a crust punk jacket begging for donations.
6.))) Talk to anyone who will listen about all my plans when we get our big break, man. We’ll be on tour overseas with Sleep and you’ll still be stuck here baking your fuckin’ homemade gluten free scones, bro…
All this seems very involved, so I better start slow and just focus on settling on a band name for now. Uterine Betrayal and Death Stench Creeps are both already taken…
My scornful misanthropy is already getting in the way of my attempts to foster ambitious effort today. How am I supposed to do things that require me to be around people if every dumb fucking face I see nurtures boundless, inexplicable impulses towards wrathful violence and furious loathing?
Not your face, though. Your face is fine. If it’s even your REAL face… >:[
In other news, and pertinent to the reason I must venture forth into the world of other fucking people today, I am making some half-hearted attempts to further my profession as a writer of late. Thus far, this comes in the form of whoring myself and my “expertise” out as a ghost writer, freelance contributor, and/or proofreader to any and all interested parties. I’ve completed a couple of jobs, ghost writing essays for overworked college students who are also forced to work full-time to support themselves whilst toiling away on a degree that will look great on paper…
…but I’m not bitter. Says the guy who took a semester off over a decade ago, leaving a worthless Bachelor of the Arts in English and Philosophy with a handful of credits lacking. But I digress…
What I’m trying to say, is, should any of the none of you reading this need anything written, corrected, proofread, critiqued, reviewed, or otherwise bastardized and shat upon by my glorious intellect, hit me the fuck up! I would be only too happy to discuss your needs and what I will and will not be willing to do for money (no butt stuff).
My sarcasm in the face of seething, indignant ire aside, I am absolutely serious about this. Feel free to Private Message me on the Books of Face here or here, tweet my twat on the Twitter here, or just fire off an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. Get in on the ground floor while I am still cheap, easy, and without much moral fortitude!
Artwork Courtesy of BAG MAN-Visuals by Ethan McCarthy (click for more)