I'm a Fan of Bad Religion
I just got the latest NOFX 7" and the b-side is a song called I'm a Fan of Bad Religion. Of course, I haven't listened to it, yet. I don't own a record player because they cost like $80 and frankly, I'm not dishing out that amount of cash. It's not worth it. Besides, one day I'll go over my mom's house and use her record player and hook it into her computer and put the records on cd. That way, no damage to the vinyl, but I'll still get to hear all the pops and cracks and shit. It will be great.
Anyhow, the lyrics to the NOFX song are about how Bad Religion signed to Atlantic Records and it was weird, but then they went back to Epitaph and things are cool again. I know, it's not Shakespeare, or even Robert Frost (Sorry, I think Frost sucks balls.) for that matter, but it makes me smile. That's more than I can say about a lot of things.
So, my friend Greg is getting married in little over a month. I hate weddings. I hate them with a passion. In fact, I think marriage is stupid, but I can understand why other people would want to get married. In fact, I'm jealous of anyone who can find someone they want to be with for the rest of their lives and I wish I could find that, but look at me. I look like a fat ten year old. Not exactly marriage material.
But, anyhow, Greg's getting married and since I was invited, I feel that I owe it to him to show up and make fun of him for getting married. I think that if I didn't make fun of him, he'd feel cheated. It's what I do. And, boy, is Greg's wedding going to be a goldmine for me. He's getting married in a field. They're wearing white sheets. And, barefoot.
Now, I love Greg to death, but if I don't rag on him, it will be a miss opportunity. It's funny, though. Back in high school, if you had told me that someone I knew was going to be getting married in that fashion, I would have thought that I might be the person. I used to be into the whole "poetry and nature" vibe, but I outgrew it. It wasn't for me. Greg, on the other hand, grew into it.
It's weird, to me, that one person can grow out of something because it's too "immature" for him, but think it's great that someone else grew into it. I'm happy that Greg's found himself. I found myself, too, but in a totally different way. Frankly, we are polar opposites as far as who we grew into, but we enjoy each other's company more than we ever did. How does that work? I really don't know.
Anyways, Greg's getting married. I'll be there to see it. I'll be wearing my tuxedo t-shirt. It will be awesome. I'm sure it will be a good time. Just seeing Greg will be good for me, I think. Whenever I see a friend or two, I tend to relax a bit, but with Greg, I mellow out a lot. Maybe he's my stress' kryptonite or something. I really don't know.
I don't know much of anything anymore. Wednesday night, I went for a little drive just to clear my head and I almost kept driving. For about ten minutes, I was developing a plan to drive to some random town and just live there. Show up, and start looking for a job. Just drop everything and everyone in my life and start a new one. Then, I remembered that I had to return the dvds I had rented, so I turned around and dropped them off. Then I went home and didn't cry. I wanted to, but I'm too big of a jerk to cry anymore.
Kind of depressing, I know, but it's the truth. I think the last time I cried, actually cried good and hard, was when my father was in the hospital and no one knew what was wrong with him. After a couple of weeks, they learned that his heart valve was infected and was causing the infection in his lungs and they had to operate. They gave him a fifty percent chance of surviving the night. That night I bawled my eyes out.
I dare you to call me a pussy for that.
Anyhow, the lyrics to the NOFX song are about how Bad Religion signed to Atlantic Records and it was weird, but then they went back to Epitaph and things are cool again. I know, it's not Shakespeare, or even Robert Frost (Sorry, I think Frost sucks balls.) for that matter, but it makes me smile. That's more than I can say about a lot of things.
So, my friend Greg is getting married in little over a month. I hate weddings. I hate them with a passion. In fact, I think marriage is stupid, but I can understand why other people would want to get married. In fact, I'm jealous of anyone who can find someone they want to be with for the rest of their lives and I wish I could find that, but look at me. I look like a fat ten year old. Not exactly marriage material.
But, anyhow, Greg's getting married and since I was invited, I feel that I owe it to him to show up and make fun of him for getting married. I think that if I didn't make fun of him, he'd feel cheated. It's what I do. And, boy, is Greg's wedding going to be a goldmine for me. He's getting married in a field. They're wearing white sheets. And, barefoot.
Now, I love Greg to death, but if I don't rag on him, it will be a miss opportunity. It's funny, though. Back in high school, if you had told me that someone I knew was going to be getting married in that fashion, I would have thought that I might be the person. I used to be into the whole "poetry and nature" vibe, but I outgrew it. It wasn't for me. Greg, on the other hand, grew into it.
It's weird, to me, that one person can grow out of something because it's too "immature" for him, but think it's great that someone else grew into it. I'm happy that Greg's found himself. I found myself, too, but in a totally different way. Frankly, we are polar opposites as far as who we grew into, but we enjoy each other's company more than we ever did. How does that work? I really don't know.
Anyways, Greg's getting married. I'll be there to see it. I'll be wearing my tuxedo t-shirt. It will be awesome. I'm sure it will be a good time. Just seeing Greg will be good for me, I think. Whenever I see a friend or two, I tend to relax a bit, but with Greg, I mellow out a lot. Maybe he's my stress' kryptonite or something. I really don't know.
I don't know much of anything anymore. Wednesday night, I went for a little drive just to clear my head and I almost kept driving. For about ten minutes, I was developing a plan to drive to some random town and just live there. Show up, and start looking for a job. Just drop everything and everyone in my life and start a new one. Then, I remembered that I had to return the dvds I had rented, so I turned around and dropped them off. Then I went home and didn't cry. I wanted to, but I'm too big of a jerk to cry anymore.
Kind of depressing, I know, but it's the truth. I think the last time I cried, actually cried good and hard, was when my father was in the hospital and no one knew what was wrong with him. After a couple of weeks, they learned that his heart valve was infected and was causing the infection in his lungs and they had to operate. They gave him a fifty percent chance of surviving the night. That night I bawled my eyes out.
I dare you to call me a pussy for that.
posted by Jym Is Cool at 4:57 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home