Here is yet another post that comes from writings I did back in high school. I had a band during my senior year called Stick It To The Man. Just a fun cover band but we had some epic moments. Here I rant about my initial urge to create that band.
OK. I will take stops like the one I am making right now through out this compilation of genius to write a certain rant in which I will keep coming back to again and again (depends really on the days when it strikes me harder then others). And this, my friends, is The Man. Yeah you heard me. The Man. Its almost like shouting a slurred Voldomort if you got drunk on butter beer at a Hogwarts bonfire party. And it ticks me off. Because, first of all we are mostly products of our society. Society is a product of The System. The System is a prime factor of The Machine. And The Machine is a mass of cogs, buttons, wheels and levers, pulled and run by The Man! One forged the other on down the little pink line so they could have their own gun to shoot with. And today society is the gun that I got hit with. I hate it. I hate it almost like Philipino (and don't give me crap about writing it with a "Ph" my goodness! It's how you freaking spell it) cheese ice cream... no... OK no, not THAT much. but a darn lot. Society decides some of the most personal things. For me it decided who I liked. Who I could be with. Well I don't trust society. I never met it in person. All I have seen are bullet holes that it left. And even, occasionally, have felt the burn of being shot by it. I have been very disabled against things like society and over all The Man since I have not had a freakin BAND in so frickin long. If I'd never cut my back hair since I had last been in a band then every time I sat on the toilet it would get wet. THAT'S HOW LONG!
No more. I will forge a rock band. Out of the stinking raw ores from Mount Power. I will pound them with the hammer of Angus and let their rancid fumes spit out of the rocky cracks. I will smelt it into a rock band worthy of sticking... I'm sorry, did I say sticking? wrong word. I meant stickin'. Worthy of Stickin' it to The Man! A band with running guitar solos and funky-chunky bass lines. I do believe that I am on the verge of this. Since, you see, on this island a drummer is hard to find... and drum set is close to being even out of the question. But I have found a a boy... a boy who has hair... long hair... and who has a drum set... a long drum set... and can stick it... long stick it. So I have asked and he has answered. The band is on the horizon now. I can smell it... and me oh my… it is very smelly...
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