hey hey, yeah. sorry...I hear you...jesus.

Hey assholes,

Sorry I've been away. had a kid. It was nuts. Someday I'll tell you all about it, but let's just for now suffice it to say that she's (the baby, that is) got all the fingers and toes and faces and butts and shit that she needs. No more, no less. she's real cool and my wife is also real cool. Oh, and they're both still alive. So that's good.

I'm tired. I don't really have the energy to wow y'all with new exciting words for jizz (frosted pee) or dicks (uh...balls flap?) so let's not even go there, eh? Let's not ask what I can do for you, kay? Let's see what you all can do for me. How's that? Have I ever asked anything from you, Dogs of War? Have I? Besides going to my shows and constantly showering me with attention and praise? No. didn't think so.

So here's my thing:

Wikipedia.

As some of you may know, I've got a wikipedia page. It's been there for a while. I actually learned about the existence of wikipedia because someone directed me to my page a few years ago. I've had a few of you email me and ask me if I did the page myself. the answer is no. I actually don't even know how to post something on wikipedia, nor do I know how to edit something that's already there. Now, I'm sure it's easy and it's as simple as paying a little attention at the homepage or whatever, but I'm not interested in doing that. Once I know that type of shit, I'm just some dork that plays around on wikipedia and well...come on. Who wants to be that? Eh? eh? eh? That's right. nobody. It's pathetic, frankly.

HOWEVER!!!!! You! You there! You already are. I mean, some of you poor fucks already are, right? Right. So why waste that?

Glad we agree. Anyway, I noticed while sitting around in the hospital waiting for shit to happen that there's no wikipedia page for BSC. that's kind of sad. I mean, we're a big deal, aren't we? We have several different sects of followers, from dogs of war to socks to the splinter sock drawer and on and on. We've got shirts (oh, sheila, go ahead and print more shirts. Sorry for the lack of response to your email. I was having a baby and getting audited) and uh...i dunno. There's at least two websites that are at least partly influenced or inspired by this one here, so let's take what's ours, folks! Get out there and make us a wikipedia page!

Also, while we're talking wikipedia, the page on felching mentions lots of people that have done their part to popularize the practice, but again, I'm a glaring omission. Whichever one of you jokesters added "dong huffer" to my name on the page about me now can do something that's actually creative/funny and add me (and this blog, dummy) to the section on the 'felching' page devoted to those who spread the word, and swallow the sweet juice from within the word. Eh? eh?

Jesus. I'm so tired.................................

I'm fucking out of here/it.

Bye.

I'm fucking crazy, man. You don't wanna mess with me, man.

Pretty much anyone who ever tells you something that a normal person wouldn’t ever say out loud is full of shit. Think about it. You know when you hear someone go “I’m crazy, man. I just don’t give a fuck!” what they’re really saying is “I act out for attention because I’m an insecure pussy with a monstrous list of things to prove. Daddy was always working late and never wanted to play catch/house.” When someone says, for example, that they’re in the mafia, or they know some serious people; nope. No. Sorry. You aren’t and you don’t. People who are in the mafia (John Gotti excluded) go to GREAT lengths to keep that information secret.
This shit is true for the guy who brags about getting laid, this is true for the chick who has the famous friends and the open invitation to the modeling contract that she’s just never taken because she digs being a hairdresser. This is true for the person who goes to great lengths to tell you, unprovoked, that they aren’t a drunkard, don’t cheat on their boyfriend, work really, really hard, scored a genius level on an IQ test, whatever. This is the fucking hallmark of lying, although sometimes it’s a little more complex than just being a straight up falsehood. For example, “I’ve got an 8 inch dick, you know” means one of two things: 1. Person has small penis. 2. Person has 8 inch penis but never gets laid and he’s unsure of how to get the word out. Ah, well, I spoke too soon. I guess there’s: 3. Person is a disgusting guy who thinks that women react to dick size the way dogs react to bacon or 4. He’s a gay guy at a club making casual conversation. There’s always exceptions, people. See John Gotti for an example.
The crazy one though, that’s the real irritating one. “I don’t give a fuck man. I’m crazy.”
Look. I’m no psychiatrist but I’m pretty sure that the FIRST thing about being crazy is that you don’t think you are. If you’re having the thought “man, I’m going crazy!” you’re fine. It’s people who are just out in their bathrobes, pissing on a fire hydrant while holding a stack of pictures of David Schwimmer cut out of magazines that are looking at you like “hey asshole, what the fuck’s so interesting over here that you gotta stare?” or even better, maybe they say “excuse me. Which way to my aunt’s house? Do you know anything about the law?” Those motherfuckers don’t think they’re crazy. They know that what they’re doing is normal. Perhaps they think that everyone else is crazy or out to get them or something. But those fucking people, each and every crazy person on this planet is not only unaware that they’re crazy, they’re totally fucking positive that they aren’t.
Because, being crazy isn’t cool. It’s like being addicted to drugs. High school kids who smoke a ton of pot think it’s funny to call themselves drug addicts. Dudes that suck penises for hits of meth do NOT call themselves drug addicts. They call themselves The Alkaline Trio.
Heh. Couldn’t resist. Seriously though. Real addicts (unreformed) tend to try to stay as far away from clinical descriptions as possible, and real crazies, the same thing. Real addiction, like real crazy, isn’t cool, and only someone who had no fucking idea about being crazy would ever brag about it. Just throwing that out there as a primer to a very short story about addiction and craziness. Here goes:
Okay, someone asked me to write something funny in this space today, since I guess yesterday was kind of a downer (if you’re a TOTAL pussy, but that’s another topic). I immediately thought of this story, starring my friend who was also our tour manager on a bunch of European tours. He’s small and toothless and generally the coolest dude in the world, but on this tour, we kind of got the feeling that he was getting a little crazy with the speed. He’s an older dude, and he’s been a road dog for something like 25 years, and in general, when you deal with lifer crew guys, drug habits aren’t that odd, and usually don’t get in the way or even really talked about, but in this instance, it became pretty weird pretty quick. He of course denied that he was doing drugs (see the above paragraph about addiction) and honestly, I guess I don’t know if he was. I never saw him do anything, but this one night in spain, he exhibited some pretty questionable behavior.
We were all sitting around. He went to get some sleep because he hadn’t slept in about two days. Needless to say we were concerned. I told him “dude, we aren’t leaving here until you sleep. Go sleep. I’ll handle everything with the money and shit.” So he went down to the van to crash. About 20 minutes later he came back up grinning ear to ear and screaming that he had the best fucking idea ever. He had taken five pins (or badges if you’re british) from the opening band, and he’d taken the CD from the headlining band (we were second on a 3 band tour). He’d ripped up the cd from the headlining band and taken the heads of each dude from the band photo inside and taped each head to one of the pins from the opening band and was walking around with these pins that were not only homemade teenybopper style individual pins for each dude in the headlining band, but also a vulgar display of lack of respect for the merch of both bands we were out with.
Anyway, his idea was this: (and he said this with such enthusiasm that you’d think he just figured out cold fusion or something), he’d go to the headlining band and get them to buy us a transvestite hooker. The thinking here was that it would be worth their while to pay for the hooker for the sheer joy that would come from seeing us uncover its penis and the resulting disgust and backpedaling etc. HOWEVER!!!!!!! That was just what he was gonna tell them. What he REALLY wanted to do was fuck the tranny himself. We, he told us, could film it, and then we could make a DVD and sell it!!!!!! And all the while the headlining band pays for the hooker! It’s fucking GENIUS!!!!!!!
…
Dead silence.
…
I feel Chris and Neil’s eyes burning into me, screaming “dude, what the FUCK???!?!?!?!?”
No one is saying anything.
Tour manager says “well, isn’t that fucking brilliant? What do you think?”
Silence.
“What The Fuck” eyes are burning into me even more.
I clear my throat and try to sound very casual. I say “yeah, man…but uh, we don’t, uh…have a video camera.”
He says “That’s the least of our fucking worries!”
No shit dude. No fucking shit that’s the least of our worries. You’ve been up on speed for three days, we need to drive all night , you’ve alienated the two bands we’re on tour with and you’re trying to grift some very nice, generous people into buying you a prostitute/force me to film you having sex with a tranny. I’d say you’re right. The not having a camera IS, in fact the least of our worries.
So, in the end we did it, and he was right. It was a great plan. The sales went through the roof. Best selling disc I was ever a part of. This was before the internet came along and made tranny porn free. Those were the golden years, man. Fuuuuck.

I start shooting next week, so I don’t know how diligent I’ll be able to be with this, but know this, dogs of war…I love you all, and I’ll try to check in as much as possible.
Enjoy your weekends.

ah. big news hidden in here today. read carefully

Is it okay to fetishize people for being black or fat or skinny or bald or white or whatever it is that makes them who they are that makes someone want to fuck them? I think it’s okay. I mean, when it comes to boning, there’s a certain level of sort of unbendable preferences that come into play, whether you like it or not, and you just kind of have to either go with it or deny yourself. You can’t reprogram the inherent desire to fuck whoever it is that you want to fuck. If you doubt the truth of this statement, talk to any gay guy who grew up in a strict conservative family. And sure, being gay is different than only wanting to fuck midgets, BUT, IF the only thing you ever want to fuck is a midget, what are you gonna do? Find midgets or settle for fucking something that you don’t want to fuck…and that’s a bummer, and it’s gonna lead to unhappiness.
Back to the question, can you fetishize someone and not feel bad about it? Sure. I mean, I guess there’s the whole question of getting to know a person and being up front and all that, but that’s really just basic manners stuff, right? I think a lot of people’s problems with person fetishization is the “Oh, she only fucks him cuz he’s a big black dude and she gets off on that and that’s it. She doesn’t care about him,” but that’s hardly the kind of attitude that’s unique to people who fetishize others. I’ve got several friends that will fuck anything with a vagina and a drivers license, and sure, call it a crappy way to be, does that mean they just have a vagina and drivers license fetish? Nah. They’re dudes. They’re dudes who don’t want to go to jail for pumping chicks who are still in highschool (or at least not seniors). Just purely getting off on someone and not giving a shit about them as people is pretty common. Is it a crappy thing to do? Eh…grey area. It’s not sweet. But you know what man, back in the day fucking and sweetness got all twisted together for some dumb reason, but they don’t need to be, you know?
Really, at the end of the day, fetishes are just standards, and yeah, they’re odd standards sometimes, but they’re standards, and everyone has to have standards.
Some girls will ONLY fuck dudes with jobs- Good for them. What’s then the difference if they’ll only fuck dudes with GOOD jobs? There’s none. Okay, so then what if they’ll only fuck pizza guys and plumbers who are on housecalls? Don’t tell me that meeting a CPA at a bar and fucking him later that same night is ANY different than fucking the Pizza guy when he stops by with your crazy bread. Strangers having consensual sex after a very brief introduction is no more acceptable because of some job, or some illusion that bars are great places to meet strangers but dominoes isn’t. Okay, sure, the pizza guy is actually WORKING while all this is going down, but hey! Who hasn’t dreamed of a little bone sesh during work now and then? I’m getting off topic. I started this example to lead into fetishes, I know that fucking a pizza guy isn’t exactly a fetish…But it IS an awesome move. Anyway, let’s continue:
Some people will only fuck people who are in good shape. People who are athletic. That’s acceptable. BUT then when people will only fuck fat people, suddenly it’s called a fetish. That’s odd, and seems a bit unfair. When someone says they’ll only date within their own race, that’s kind of old timey and vaguely racist, but people tend to think it’s fine, if a little antiquated/dull. BUT god help you if you like another race of people specifically. Then you’re a pervert. That’s not cool. I mean if I’m attracted to black guys and that’s it, that should be completely fine. Black guys are BORN black, just like women are BORN with vaginas. Now, I’m currently not really all that attracted to black guys as a general rule, but I AM attracted pretty exclusively to women. It’s not a fetish, right? I like people born with vaginas. Not all of them, but I sure as hell am not interested in fucking around with anyone born without a vagina (and that includes anyone, not just people with dicks). So in what way does that differ from having a disposition for black skin and letting that dictate your mate?
People are hung up, and having a meaningful conversation about race in this country is about as easy as talking about eating a wheel of cheese out of an old man’s ass at a Southern Baptist fish fry. There’s gonna be yelling, hurt feelings and lots and lots of judging, no matter how slowly and carefully you tread. My point is, for some reason, I was thinking about how most of the people I’ve been with have been slender, pretty white girls. Almost all of them…and now I’m married and the idea of banging (for example) an overweight black lady is never gonna be anything more than just an idea. Am I missing out? Who knows? But I’m definitely not missing out any more than the guy like me out there who ONLY fucks big beautiful black ladies, or the guy who just fucks midgets or the midget girl who only bangs surfers or the hairdresser that only fucks dudes that wear those crappy v neck shirts that go halfway down their chest and look like what would happen if Nerf made a disco shirt.
I guess the point is that indulging in what you like is cool, and habit is part of humanity and comfort is not to be taken lightly. There’s that one hippy that eats nothing but big macs for every meal of his life. I think it’s gross, but whatever. Good for him. I also think the idea of fucking a fat old man is gross, but there are people out there that line UP for that shit. So get out there and get freaky people. It’s all good. But keep it legal, eh? Most of those laws are in place for a reason.
Oh, and here’s some semi big news: My band, the Lawrence Arms is going on tour in early Novmber. West coast, starting in Arizona on November fifth and ending in SF a week later. Yeah, it’s not the biggest tour in the world, but it’s gonna be great and in support of our new digital EP and seven inch on Fat Wreck. You can buy tickets right on our myspace page I think, or at least you’re supposed to be able to. Technology is strange, man. We’re bringing Teenage Bottlerocket and the Cobra Skulls, so set wieners on hard and get your tickets, everyone.

See you all out there!
bk