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   For those of you who are reading and know me in real life, i enjoy metal music. The harder the better…music not penises. It is not necessarily for everyone as i know it can be a bit too agressive for some, but its fantastic when you break it down. Its an acquired taste, and it took me a while to actually fully appreciate it.

    However, it does come with a price. Stereotypes. I hate them. I am not a satanist. i do not bathe in the blood of goats. i do not ritually sacrifice people (although some may deserve it). I just listen to the music. it gets me amped, and its fun to figure out the words. You essentially get two first hearings of each metal song. The first time, and then the real first time after you figure out what they are saying. Which is where most of the fun comes from. I understand that most metal bands dont really do themselves any favors in terms of band names and album titles, but the sheer fact that most people believe its all about “die die die believe in satan die die die” I fucking hate that. Its a stereotype and cant be tolerated.

  I was having a conversation with one of my coworkers a few months ago, and the topic got to metal music. So naturally he goes die die die, and i go shut the fuck up. Its nothing like that. Once again i understand some bands do that, but thats a minority of the whole picture. metal is more than that. its a release of feelings and the need to be yourself. some people are really just blackened on the inside and have some sort of issue they are dealing with,and metal is an outlet. they write songs of burning churches or branding an upside down cross into their heads (hey glen! heres looking at you…most evil and brutal man ever haha) its their outlet. Its the same for people who get tattoos or piercings. Its a sense of pleasure and self gratification. Its a performance. You wouldnt go to an art show and talk down to someone because their art isnt to your liking. its art. its open to interpretation.

    The sheer joy i feel while driving down the street and blaring Amon Amarth is seriously one of the best feelings ever. It legitimately makes me feel like i am on a longboat and heading into battle. Which gets me so pumped. Its the same sort of feeling that a person who listens to country gets when they hear a love song. Granted i am not a fan of country, i find it to be boring. However i will not knock someone who listens to it. its what they like. Years ago i wouldve had no problem making fun of someone about their choice in music, however as an adult, i do not have the right to do so. Especially since the music i enjoy is really an acquired taste as ive already stated. Not everyone is going to listen to Black Dahlia Murder and think this is awesome, even though they are.It really isnt cool to put someone down mainly because they like something you dont. unless they enjoy stabbing and killing people for real. then you should make it a priority to get that person locked the fuck up. I know i may sound a bit spacey and jumbled in this rant, but its something i am relatively passionate about. Its a shame when you say you listen to metal and they automatically call you a satanist. its bullshit. i am one of the nicest people you will ever meet, however unapproachable i may seem or look. but when i say i like metal it alwas seems like thats a nail in that persons coffin. Pleeeease. its stupid, and childish. Thank You

P.S. i was asked by a few people to break my blog up into paragraphs because it was a bit difficult to read in one large chunk. i have politely obliged and hope this makes it easier to read for you guys. enjoy

    

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This one is going to be a bit different than my first two. Rather than share some thoughts on some sort of topic that interests me, i am going to grace you with a story from my youth. I believe I was around 12 years old. My cousin came over to pick me up to go hang out with him and run some errands. Normally going to your older cousins house is going to be slightly boring…almost like going to your grandparents house. you are used to having all of your stuff available in your own house to entertain you. so if you go out somewhere, you have to find some way to keep occupied and entertained. On this particular day, i was introduced to what i would later find out is not a fucking joke. A crossbow. Now for those of you who do not know what this is, to put it simply, it is one of the only weapons that was banned years ago mainly due to the fact that it is a fucking murder machine. England banned it because they felt like it was too lethal. Too lethal? I dont understand the meaning of that. No such thing as overkill. If it kills you once, it cant kill you twice right? Well fuck that says the crossbow. it will kill you, and then continue to do so in your own personal hell after death. the sheer efficiency of this weapon is not to be trifled with. Anyways.After attempting to play some video games which almost always ended in some sort of fisticuffs, i decided to walk around the house to cool off a bit. My cousin liked weapons, but wasnt a gun nut. He just liked having them. I went into the basement den to hang out for a bit, and came upon his gun room. And on the third shelf, sat a sleek black thing of beauty that immediately caught my attention. I reached up and pulled it down. it was then that he came in and saw me holding the crossbow. ” dont fuck around with that. its super dangerous” Bullshit i said. its a crossbow. how can it be worse than a gun . oh it is. a gun you will at least hear when it is fired. not this black angel of death. it was made in the fires of hell, and the bolts were made of broken dreams and lost loved ones. i instantly fell in love with it. i wanted it, and didnt care how i got it. wouldnt you know though that he said i could have it. on one condition, that i dont fire it inside or at all really. it would just be a looking piece. once again…fuck that. i was obviously going to fire the shit out of it in my backyard, and maybe bring them back into fashion as a viable weapon. the first thing that you will notice is that it is pretty hard to load. especially if you are twelve and havent developed strength yet. luckily, they have a pull back assist on the crossbow, so people of all ages can enjoy it. i let loose in the backyard for maybe an hour before deciding to call it a day. the fence in my backyard had taken quite a peppering. As i walked into the house my sister noticed me carrying it.” Is that from Carlos?” ” Yes…yes it is. dont fuck around with it. i love this thing. its super dangerous” obivously telling someone that is like asking them not to push a giant red button. there is no way in fuck that they are not going to push it. they will…and push it hard. 10 minutes later i find myself in the basement with my sister. i attempt to show her how to arm the bringer of mothers tears, which is where things get interesting. She decided she was bored of it, and went to walk away. I attempted to finish arming it and was going to just take the bolt out before i pulled the trigger. just for fun. needless to say things didnt work out that way. The bolt fired…..and whizzed directly in front of my sisters face and into a steel trunk. and when i say into a steel truck, i mean it drove a hole though it big enough to put a quarter into it. i sat there stunned. i almost just killed my sister, and didnt even do it in purpose. i was mortified. the magic murder machine that had been so fun and awesome during the day, had almost just claimed a family members life. i didnt know what to do, until my sister gave me the look of i am going to beat the fuck out of you until you regret your past. i had no bolts left,and was too shaken to even do anything. i put the thing down, and awaited my fate. luckily i did not get my ass beat that day as she decided she wanted to fire it after seeing it in action. i was shocked. i thought i was going to be found a bloody pulp in the basement, but apparantly it was too awesome to warrant a beating. she wanted to fire it. so she did. into a cement wall….and punched a hole into that as well. after that, we had decided that it would be best if we never fired it again. unless it was absolutely necessary. zombies, bears, rhinos, hipsters. they were all on the list. after wondering why such a thing couldve been banned during war times, i finally understood why. the crossbow is like a cat. sure its cute and awesome, but deep down lies a horrible killing machine that does not care about whether you are friend or foe. all it cares about is drinking your mothers tears. i admit this one wasnt so much funny as it was informative. if in the future you find yourself with a crossbow in hand and a family member in sight…just remember, point it to the side so you dont completely kill them. and you just learned something new today.

This is a topic i am very familiar with, and im sure that most people have had some sort of issue with. Customer service. What is customer service you ask? Well it goes like this: You buy shit, said shit doesnt work, you get pissed, call up store/company, commence the bitching. pretty standard stuff really. Now picture this, you work for a company, you work in a completely different area of where the items/goods are sold. you have no control over the quality, you have no control over pricing, you have no control over anything. the only thing you control is the sheer amount of hatred that is permeating through each and every fiber of your being. You had a late night last night, girlfriend/boyfried spent the night, didnt get much sleep, dog died, family member died, something awful happened blah blah blah, and the first thing you have to wake up to the next morning is knowing that you are going to get yelled at….a lot….for something you didnt do. its maddening. But its your job to get yelled at, you get paid for it, i suck dick and i dont know what im talking about. shut the fuck up.you have no idea how shitty it is. i would really hate to meet the person that actually looks forward to waking up to that. because they have pretty much either pledged themselves to Cthulhu in everlasting madness, or they are dying on the inside (though hiding it well). the thing most people think is that if they call up a customer hotline, yell and complain as if they are the end all be all of your company, they will get exactly what they want. which sometimes is true, however, most of the time its because we would rather fantasize about stabbing the life out of you or strangeling you with a line of piano wire. i can understand being upset over something you paid for, however i will not tolerate being yelled at as if i personally just stabbed your grandfather, who fought in WW2, on veterans day as he was being wheeled out to accept a purple heart that was denied to him while saving multiple lives. i never did that, never will. but you thought i did. otherwise why would you call me with such unbridaled rage that the gods themselves would say ” oh that guy? fuck that guy”. he apparantly feels his margarita maker is the gorilla glue holding together his crumbling marriage and if it doesnt work, she gets half of everything. and the dog. the people who work customer service really just want to help you in any way they can, but not if you act like a dick. its uncalled for. most of us would gladly help you out if you spoke to us like real people. we are not robots, we have feelings, and we know how to fuck you over if we really want to. so i would just say if you do read this, and eventually come to a problem where you need to call customer service…..please treat them with some respect. otherwise you may find a man wearing lipstick outside of your house holding a rifle because you felt that your snuggie wasnt snuggie enough. well now it really wont be…because itll be covered in blood.

First One: I am a marked man

So this is going to be my first blog ever. Bear with me as im almost positive that its going to be rather ridiculous. Also, please dont tell me about the use of apostraphes. I dont like them, and rarely use them. Im a busy man. So for the first one, i am going to let you in on something that i am sure everyone in their lives has experienced at some point or another. There is someone in my office….and i am almost positive he wants to kill me. Why you ask? I have no fucking idea. It started with me playfully saying that he stole my parking spot, har har no big deal. his reponse…a freaking grunt. no big deal really, i just moved on. Thought to myself, get a fucking sense of humor dude, shits free nowadays. Second, the fact that everytime i pass him in the office, he gives me this look of such unbelievable loathing, that you would assume at some point i either fucked the kid’s (for possession i will use it occasionally) girlfriend and mom at the same time. its ridiculous. I know i can be an asshole at times, but mostly in a comedic fashion. im never mean. so it has taken me completely by surprise that he should stare at me with such contempt. I am sure at some point he is going to either stab the shit out of me while reciting binary, or poison my food while im not looking. luckily for me, i dont fucking eat at work. in order to avoid said stabbing and or poisoning, i have started to either not look at him directly, or stare absolutely directly into his eyes. i am not afraid, just apprehensive. ive been told never to poke a sleeping beast , but fuck this guy. if im going to be killed, id rather know who did it. that way i can curse their family with my dying breath. hopefully by then i will have either solved this problem, or maybe he was swallowed back into the dark abyss that his soul crawled out of. trust me, i dont think he would be the one to lose it first at work, but im almost positive he would take the highest amount of people with him during said rampage. im calling that shit right the fuck now. if this is the first and only blog i ever write, you will at least know what happened to me. Divide my belongings up, and give them all to my dogs. They will appreciate them more. Till next time……

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