I started downloading music at the age of 10, post-Napster, on a P2P called Aimster. I would spend all night downloading songs (this was in the day of 56k, 1 song every 45 minutes) that I had come to like on the radio or from my brother’s CD collection. I proceeded to make my way to KazaA (pre-spam) downloading Limp Bizkit (I was 12, give me a break) songs and other popular mainstream music that I enjoyed. Songs that I couldn’t get out of my head.

Then around the age of 14, learning the error of my mainstream ways and being introduced to Lamb of God and Fear Factory by my older brother, I dove into the wonders of musical discovery. I was on a mission to find music that only few had heard of and fewer enjoyed. I discovered grindcore, noise rock, industrial metal, abstract hip-hop artists, all the pivotal metal genres (thrash, death, black), and many others. I found music I fell in love with and music that I loathed. Discovering band after band. Fueling my desire for an eargasmic experience.

Many people would say I’m a music-snob. Many people say, “Have you heard of Band X” and I will say I have. Many people call me a monster and a thief.

I would say I am an addict.

Like the drug addict that finds new and better and faster ways to score drugs and new and inventive drugs to try, I have made music my drug.

8,000 songs and 24 days of music later I have finally reached my end. Through the notes of scratch paper on my desk with band names scribble upon them I begin to find myself repeating the names of bands I’ve already tasted.

The brick wall is near.

I scour the internet, the magazines, looking for new music for my ever-expansive library and I can find none that I can find to be any different than what I have. Metalcore begins to sound like a band in itself rather than a conglomerate of bands who all sound the same. Thrash begins to sound like the same up-tempo riffs with guitar solos sprinkled in. Grind begins to sound like a wall of noise fitted with blast beats and indiscernible guttural vocal stylings.

Please help me.

If you have a suggestion of what I should listen to and where I should go next, let me know. I must have my music. I must have it. Leave me a comment on what I should do.

I decided to look them up on YouTube because I wanted to see how other people projected their voice and to suffice to say many of them just plain fucking blow. Look them up, there are too many to post on here.

And this isn’t because I’m a vocalist. It’s not from a comparison of abilities at all.

But these kids, these kids think that songs are just made with pig squeals and high pitched wails or barely audible semi-gutturals that sound basically like you’re gargling balls. Not to mention it’s ridiculous to sit around, without music, without inspiration, without being hyped up, make this awkward stare into this shitty web cam with a shitty mic and go, “My name is (insert middle-class suburbia name here, Dakota, Ryan, Hunter, etc.) and I’m going to scream.”. And the best part is these fucking kids know they suck, one guy goes as far as to say, “If you guys are going to shit all over me, fuck off.”. Well sir, try not to suck. Music isn’t about being nice, that’s how shitty bands are created, when people are too nice to critique them and tell them that THEY SUCK (I implore everyone to do that for me, it creates motivation and anger…you know what screaming is about).

I blame the shitty bands!

I blame the -core genre!

Edit: I just noticed that the top search for my blog is this: “is pete wentz attracted to other members of the band?”. Hilarious.

*clears throat*

Sorry, most of that is probably gibberish.

But I go through phases where my nerd completely takes over, and no matter how many cigarettes I smoke, or “poon-banks” I dive into, or how many leather jackets I wear, I just seem to succumb to utter and total nerd-dom.

But I beat it today (about 20 minutes ago) so I’m back and I’m ready to get back on track.

The new word on the street today?

Well, I don’t want you to think that I’m cheating on you, I really don’t want you to think that. But I’m making a new “side-project” blog. I’m not going to lose all my new love for you, I just feel that this blog will harbor my musical needs that cannot possibly be contained within the simple confines of a blog about my life. I’ll keep you updated on that as more goes into it, right now I’m getting a couple of contributors together, listening to a couple of CDs, brushing up on my musical knowledge, and looking at a mid to late February launch date.

In Other News:

Oh, and by the way, congratulations to my two good friends Frank and Jacque who are in the process of giving birth to Kaiden Anthony Price.

Also, me and my guitarist Price (not too be confused with the Price ((last name)) I mentioned above) for our band Ebirah have been working on a couple of tracks in Reason for a display. If I get some time, I’ll put together a nice bass line and a lead and let you all have an eargasmic experience.

For your wait I’ll leave this here:

Cave-In – Trepanning

Enjoy.

(A side note: When I did the “Pete Wentz is a Prick” rant you wouldn’t believe how much the visitor count spiked. The top search for my blog is “Fall Out Boy”, maybe I should do that for all of my posts, you know really up the readership.)

I’m sorry if I’m alienating a majority of you who were interested in knowing about the other Pete Wentzs and how they could possibly be pricks. However, I implore you to continue reading to learn more about the prick nature of this Pete Wentz. You may be shocked at what you read.

Those of you that have decided to continue on may be asking yourself…out loud…”Now how can Pete Wentz, ultra mega star, be a prick” “How can you pass judgment like that?” To be perfectly honest I usually try to not single out anyone, judge them, and directly call them obscene names (indirectly though is another story). I think of myself too highly to do such a thing. And for the most part I could give a shit less about “celebrities”. I don’t care about who is doing who. Who came out the closet. Who is going to rehab. Who and who and who is going where and totally did a whole bunch of coke before they crashed that totally expensive car their dad bought. Or who is showing their vagoo or tits (even though I don’t mind seeing them). But Pete Wentz is another story:

Reason #1

The band Racetraitor. Few of you have heard of them correct? Including myself until about 3 o’ clock this afternoon while looking through a Botch biography, what do those 2 bands have anything to do with each other? Not much, just a case of the 6 degrees of separation game I unknowingly play on Wikipedia from time to time (try it, look up something, then click a link, then click a link, then click a link, then so how absolutely far you can get from the original search).

Racetraitor was a short lived political, straight-edge (which is bad in itself), hardcore punk band that lasted from 1995 to 1999. There members included, Drummer Andy Hurley and Fill-In Bassist Pete Wentz of (insert drum roll) Fall Out Boy!

So what? Big deal.

Hold on there. Now let’s dissect what Racetraitor the band is so politically charged about, Wikipedia, take the cue from here:

“Known for calling audience members “crackers” and for espousing radical beliefs influenced by black nationalism, third worldism and other anti-colonial ideologies (and for some members, eventually, Islam). Their lyrical content revolved around issues of privilege, Western dominance of the Third World and inequalities in globalization. Additionally the band addressed issues pertaining to constructions of sexuality in America, corporate dominance of economic and public life, veganism and the straight edge lifestyle.”

Why Pete Wentz! Why didn’t you tell us you harbored this deep dark desire to be a black nationalist!

But even better yet, look at the name of the band Racetraitor…RACE TRAITOR, a common slur used by white nationalists turned out it’s head then totally squished together. Ingenious!

Look in the Pete Wentz biography and you won’t find a single fucking thing about it. Not what so ever. Not that Pete Wentz loved to play as a fill-in bassist (alongside Fall Out Boy’s drummer) in a black nationalist influenced band. Imagine Pete Wentz (white guy) with a fro or dreds. Easy right?

Now imagine Pete Wentz as not a prick. Much harder.

Oh, and if there was something you didn’t know about me, I hate sXe bands. I do. I completely absolutely fucking loathe them. But I’ll leave that for another day.

Reason #2

Whenever Pete Wentz project with Racetraitor didn’t quite fill out he decided he would hit wherever the trend was going next in a metalcore band. Where he decided to get his chops and throwdown some vocals for Arma Angelus.

Thank god they did not survive. Thank fucking god.

Yet sometimes I wish they had, sometimes I wish that Pete Wentz had just died out into obscurity and never returned and we would live in a Fall Out Boy-less world. Oh wouldn’t that be great?

Can you imagine? (I know I’m asking a lot of your imagination today folks)

The radio would be only filled only with the nonsense of Nickelback and Creed (who unfortunately wouldn’t have died out), Staind would probably begin to write good records again, and Blink 182 wouldn’t have broken up and maybe Tom DeLonge wouldn’t have thrown in a more mature and somber side of Blink 182 into their discography and they would still be as immature, and as funny, and as pop-punky as they were when I was 8.

Oh what a perfect world that would be. A radio that doesn’t have to be turned every fucking time a shitty pop-punk band with catchy hooks, and catchy choruses (Dance Dance anyone?), and thousands of screaming little girl fans came on. The radio, would be even minimally enjoyable! Can you take all of that in? Can you even FATHOM that?

Moving on.

Reason #3

Now I know what you’re going to say…I hate Pete Wentz and I think he is a prick because he is like oh-my-god totally holding hands or dating or fucking Ashlee Simpson. This however is not true. I think it is absolutely wonderful when a fucking awful bassist starts dating the little sister of a fucking awful pop-icon who in turn one-upped her older sister in every department of sucking while lacking her big ol’ boobs. It’s wonderful.

No. This one is personal.

Fall Out Boy. If none of these other reasons convince you that Pete Wentz is a prick then the utter existence of Fall Out Boy. That should be enough reason.

Fall Out Boy is to blame for dumb scene chicks and dudes. Fall Out Boy is to blame for boys that wear girl jeans. Before Fall Out Boy the world was wonderful. Girls wore the make-up (eyeliner) and the tight jeans. Dudes did not. And all of a sudden on this new wave of music championed by Fall Out Boy this all changed. And as a little kid I noticed this sudden shift in the trends of my fellow compatriots. Who is to blame?

Fall Out Boy.

And you’ll say to me, well Fall Out Boy does none of these things! At all! You’re thinking of the new wave of emo kids.

Think of Fall Out Boy as the gateway drug to harder and gayer bands. The gateway to dressing up like women, acting like women, and kissing men! Pete Wentz has admitted to being (look it up if you don’t believe me):

“In a Blender interview in March 2007, Wentz alluded to being bisexual, stating that he has kissed other men and that “anybody above the waist is totally fair game.” In the May 2007 issue of The Advocate, Wentz opened up about his sexuality, stating that he is sexually attracted to males but hasn’t had sexual relations with other men because “I’m not a fan of penises.”"

Okay…okay hold on there. Isn’t what defines us as men is our penis? How can you be “sexually” attracted to someone but not…be attracted to their sexual parts (and that offends me, Pete would kiss me but not offer a man a favor and touch on his dong, Pete needs to stop kissing men and talk to someone about how to treat a man right, it’s called the “kiss and rub-out”)? This defies all logic. But when the evidence has been brought to the table, the girl jeans, the eyeliner, the kissing of guys but not being fans of the penis, and the gateway to other bands much like Fall Out Boy but only gayer, I can only come to one conclusion:

Fall Out Boy is the feminist platform for destroying men.

Pete Wentz has all the credentials! He was in an activist band for beliefs he didn’t belong to (silly Pete, you’re not black, let the blacks handle the blacks). Why wouldn’t they do it now? On a wider scale? Subliminally!

Pete Wentz, you’re a prick.

The End.

and the tattoo that goes along with it, I highly doubt it’s actual existence but it’s funny to see it on a person’s body. And even more hilarious if some stupid fuck decided to actually go through with that.

For starters, I finally got my keyboard on Tuesday (my M-Audio Keystation 69e), maybe tomorrow I’ll put up a little taste of what I’ve been working on. A little electro-grind in the vein of Genghis Tron.

Secondly, school has been going pretty well even though I feel like I’m in 9th grade again. You know the obvious stupid freshman that you see roaming the halls that you just want to push into a locker or something of that nature, I feel just like that. I feel awkward.

I even pulled one of the biggest freshman mistakes yesterday night. I have a lab and a lecture class for my Biology 101 that happen to be in two different rooms. And I thought it would make sense if my lecture class would be in session for the first day of class. Boy was I wrong. I walked into my lecture class on the wrong day and took a seat in Biology 100, which I didn’t find out until about an hour into the class. Then instead of being utterly embarrassed for sitting in the wrong class for an hour I had to play it off that I was suppose to be in that class, even though I wasn’t on the roster and there happened to be the max number of students there, plus one more, which was me.

The teacher was interesting, the class was interesting (human anatomy) so I figured…why the fuck not? I’ll sit here, I’ll take notes (2 pages worth), I’ll even answer the questions. Even though I’m pretty sure the teacher knew something was up, because I stuck out like a sore thumb (I was the only one there under the age of 23). And the thing was, the class began at 7 and ended at 9:45. Just like my Biology lecture class. It was an honest mistake and a realization that I could sit in any class and learn anything if I really had the desire to do so. I could become a back alley doctor!

Otherwise all my other classes have been going pretty well and I see this semester as being pretty slack.

Since I don’t have too much to really update on this Wednesday because I have to get another chapter out of the way in History and head off to work tonight, I will have you consult RateMyProfessor.com to check out the rest of the teachers I have:

HIST 121 Dr. Richard Shoaf

ENG 111 Travis Baran

I couldn’t find my SDV teacher (probably because she is mostly a guidance counselor and SDV is a 1-credit bullshit class) and either of my Biology teachers (which is irony at it’s best).

So with my dwindling money stash I decided today I would head by the tattoo shop (CJ’s Tattoo in Hampton, Virginia; check out Larry) and get some more work done on my growing half sleeve. The part that I had done is the bottom where the samurai helmet and mask is at. The helmet is completely done but the mask (metallic orange, yellow, and gold or a mahogany wood?) and the leather sides to the helmet have a bit to go. I’ve been working on this sleeve for a year even in the coming weeks and suffice to say it’s been a memorable experience. I’ve experienced poor healing, allergic reactions to certain healing techniques (lanolin), and different feelings of pain on different parts of my arm. It’s to the point where the shading and coloring is actually soothing and relaxing compared to the outlining.

I’m about 50% done so far (800 dollars and 20 hours). The inside has yet to be done which I’m currently dreading because the inside of the arm seems to be the worst, but it’ll definitely bring the whole piece together. After that I plan on getting a little done on my legs then moving on to my right torso. I have to say, despite the pain, I absolutely love tattoos for their expression of hidden meanings (maybe when mine is finished I’ll explain it in great detail one day) and the art that goes behind it.

Just a short post today. I have school early tomorrow which I’ll update more on Wednesday.

Also, sorry for the low quality camera phone pictures, I’m currently looking for a digital camera that takes more than 3 pictures before the battery dies. And due to the way I had to position my arm and the camera the samurai mask seems to get at some really weird fucking angles.

You can have all of this for just one little bank robbery. C'mon dude. Imagine the potential!

You’re going to do it man.

This is you’re time to shine, and you’re going to shine like the sun baby.

But hold on, I mean I don’t mean to doubt you bro (I can use that because we are total buds), but are you sure this is greatest plan ever invented? If you think about it, how many people have really been successful doing this? Are you sure you’re 5th grade drop-out brain will be able to fathom the complexities to robbing a bank?

Let me tell you friend, it’s futile. Absolutely futile. If you’re thinking about doing it, stop. Stop immediately and walk straight into traffic. Better yet, go down to you’re local police precinct and turn yourself in, do some hard time in prison, for even thinking about doing it. You might as well.

Just remember, don’t drop the soap.

Does anyone who robs a bank think they can really get away with it? I mean honestly what’s the thought-process that goes into this bullshit? This sounds like a brilliant idea:

Let’s go in with panty-hose over our faces so we can look like a bunch of tan condoms with the resevoir tip and all to hide our identity. We go right through the front door into a place where the employees are trained to handle armed robbery, and we point guns at them, you know really scare the piss out of them. Make them not able to sleep at night. Make their every dream a nightmare about some gun-toting bunch of tan condoms. Really fuck them up, send them to the shrink and shit. Badass. High-five. Cameras? Fuck cameras we have panty-hose! The obvious deterrant for camera recognition. Did you know that panty-hose totally scrambles electronics and they just fry their internal circuitry in a big “WHAT THE FUCK” explosion. Nobody is going to expect us dude, this is the first time anyone has ever robbed a bank. Security? Psh. That’ll be a breeze, nobody is going to know what to do! Alarms you say? Well, look there is 2 maybe 3 of us going in, with GUNS, remember, nobody is going to want to be a hero, not one of 30 employes has a ounce of courage, bravery, or the ability to press a button that goes directly to the police. Okay, after that we get the money you know, like 10 grand? Do you know what we could do with 10 grand? That’s so much money dude I don’t even know! Then we leave, in my mom’s car, yeah it’s the Red Grand Caravan with the license SWTMOMA. But who cares? Who is going to pay attention! And we have to make our exit dramatic, fire a couple of gunshots in the air, get in the van, squeal those tires and shit, REAL BADASS. Nobody is going to know! You know what I mean dude, here take a hit of this crazy dank-ass shit I got from my older brother’s friend then you’ll see what I’m talking about.

This wonder drug right here makes all your obviously bad ideas into incredibly GREAT ones.

That’s totally going to work. Bank robbers are the clowns of robbery. The way things are so watched nowadays stealing anything is pretty fucking futile at best. Inventory. Cameras. Witnesses. Forensic Evidence. License Plates. Etc.

But even better yet, how does anyone expect to rob one of the only places where security is the utmost top priority! I mean this is a fucking bank for christ sakes! This isn’t some liquor store down the road in the “bad part of town”, or a gas station out in the boondocks. This is a high security fortress, set up to prevent people from stealing the primary inventory of the bank, MONEY. Cameras, Security Details, Special Training, Silent Alarms, etc.

This wasn’t even going to be my original rant, but today something came up on this subject that I decided to write something about it. Today, two men came into my mother’s bank (the Bayport Credit Union in Newport News, VA) and decided, after much deliberation I’m sure after they spent the last of their money on an eight-ball of coke, to rob her and her employees. It kind of hit close to home to be honest.

These two men, being the two of the bravest individuals on the face of the fucking planet, not only decided to rob my mother’s bank, but also be positive id’ed by various eye-witnesses. I guess they were too badass to wear a disguise, not even a Ronald Reagan mask or a ski mask or even sunglasses. That’s how badass they were. Suffice to say that they are not going to get very far.

Do people not understand the consequences of robbing a bank? Can anyone afford to spend 15 years in prison for armed robbery probably with an unregistered firearm?

A question for the mainly for the robbers:

How many people do YOU KNOW that have gotten away with robbing a bank? I can point out many who didn’t, they all happen to be in prison. How many of them do you think thought that their idea was the greatest idea ever? I bet they did the same thing you did, totally ballsy, totally extreme, and totally getting touched in their no-no parts by Bubba the serial rapist in the shower. To put it in laments terms he’s inserting his dip-stick into their oil pans and I honestly hope you enjoy.

This is where you're going to end up. See how he grips the bars? He knows the showers are coming quite soon and he IS NOT fond of routine sodomy.

Whatever happened to hardwork? What ever happened to a little bit of fucking elbow grease into earning money? Where nobody had to go around brandishing firearms in my mother’s fucking face to just get a little bit of cash.

To all the aspiring bank robbers:

Get a fucking job. Stop lazing around and thinking you can take the easy way out. Everyone has to work for the things they have and nobody gets shit free or easy. That’s just not how the way things work. I swear, you’ll end up walking the same path as your predecessors. You will be found and you will be thrown in prison. If you happen to even overhear anyone talking about attempting to rob a bank I would like you to punch them straight in the fucking face as hard as you can. Break their nose, black their eyes. Stupid people should be shown how stupid they are through violence.

Haven’t you ever seen any movies that involve robbing a bank? The bad guy always loses. Does nobody pay attention anymore? Does anyone ever think anything through? We did the world become so full of absolute fucking morons?

Or has it always been that way?

The End.

If you would like to read the story on what happened at my mother’s bank this afternoon look below, thankfully in a couple of days her job will be transferred to something paying a tad bit better, she’s worked at various banks for the past 3 years and this is the first time this has happened to her, she is lucky in that regard, and even luckier that she came out safe and alive:

The Daily Press

The bills are paid off and there is even a bit left over for my books and some new clothes and enough money to gain my college 10lbs! This is the future folks! Double-chins and education here I come!

That’s all I have to really say tonight, other than the fact that I’ve been working on my computer since about 3 this afternoon restoring it and all (see post before this one). So here’s something to look at, Whitest Kids You Know a sketch comedy show that I started watching on FUSE before they switched over to being completely unedited on IFC (Independent Film Channel). Enjoy:

Maybe tomorrow I’ll decide to get my chops and throw down a new saucy rant.