So yeah. Tonight at Risque Café, I’ll be hosting the third consecutive Punk Rock Tuesday, complete with tacos for a buck and cheap cans of beer, shotgunning contests and the very best music that my ipod knows. You should go. There’s a tv that’s got naked girls on it and my co-bartender, a young and impressionable man named David (who just got in trouble with the law for placing his nekkid junk on the counter of a starbucks and drunkenly requesting some suckage from the barista) will be wearing a vest…at least that’s what he texted me today for some reason. I don’t really know the implications of all of this, but I’ve got high hopes for our young, soon to be sleeveless friend. He’s shown a level of dangerous volatility in the past that’s matched only by his boyish, if-I-ever-go-to-prison-I’m-gonna-be-such-a-penis-receptacle-esque charm. It’s gonna be a good time, that’s what I think. See you tonight.
So, anyway, a few days ago I picked up where I’d left off, telling you guys about the downside of being in a band. I started off about a year ago, talking about some of the worst places I ever stayed and I continued the other day in a little piece about punishers entitled “lemme get your hat, bro,” which I think was misinterpreted by some. Now, I’m not gonna get too far into this, but let me just say for the record that just talking to someone you don’t know doesn’t automatically make you a punisher.
Punishment is usually categorized by the punishee feeling trapped and wanting to not be in the conversation. This isn’t always the fault of the person initiating the conversation, however, like when I have to take a dump or I have to get a beer or I see someone that I know is a punisher approaching and I need to get the fuck out of there. That’s not you being a punisher, that’s just bad timing. Likewise, it’s very common for a group of people to be talking to someone (let’s say Danzig, just to make things short and evil and sweet), and three of them are totally cool and one of them is a terrible punisher. Danzig notes this distinction. Everyone who talks to Danzig is not a punisher. Just the punishers are punishers. I know this is a little confusing, so think about it again inside global/social parameters:
On any given day you interact with lots of people, either on the phone, on the bus, at the McDonalds or at the bar or wherever. Most of these interactions are benign and cool and some of them are even pleasant and you walk away from the dentist’s office thinking ‘that old man mopping the floor was pretty awesome,’ but it’s also pretty common to just be annoyed and think ‘hey dildo, how ‘bout you shut up and let me get on with my business’. That’s a punisher. Like I said, it doesn’t just apply to being in a band. Certain towns are just packed with what Chris and I refer to as ‘life punishers’ who are just walking around everywhere punishing everyone: places like Vegas, New Orleans, LA, SF, Vegas and Amsterdam spring instantly to mind. I guess punishers tend to rally around pleasure zones (which is, conincidentally, the name of the first porn I ever saw. It was about a friendly and mammoth cocked alien named Dork, from the planet Or-gon who was kicking it around earth just uh…fucking chicks, I guess. Highly recommended).
Okay, are we clear on punishers now? You guys aren’t all punishers. That was never my intended message. A thousand apologies for any hurt feelings (except for those of you who are punishers, who, by definition probably don’t know who you are…sigh).
Ah, jesus! I was gonna write about this spot in Omaha…and for the second time it’s been hijacked by punisher theory. Fuck! Dumb punishers are burgling my time even now!
Oh, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the wonderful outpouring of support from a member of the B of A brass after my little tantrum about not being able to retrieve my bank records the other day. Thanks again duder!