I got the opportunity to head back to Austin for the break to have Turkey Day with my family, while I was there though I ended up spending a fair chunk of my time with this old friend of mine from High School. Dude's name is Damien, and he's one of my best friends these days, anywho Damien is basically the guy who singlehandedly got me into music (not that that's terribly relevant to this story). In all honesty most would consider him a pretty strange guy, he's into tomes on magic and occultism and such, but he's a great resource on any number of subjects and makes for great company. So while I was down for my visit he hauled me off to this black metal concert, which is coincidentally the first kind of music he tried to get me into.
Now I'm not the sort these bands attract as I am very certainly not a metalhead, and the last concert I went to was a Weird Al concert when I was like 12 (Don't judge me Internet, I know what sort of things you're into.) so imagine my surprise when I throughly enjoyed myself. It all started off pretty dull, the first three bands were shit, Damien leaned up against a support beam looking bored in his ripped band shirt, black jeans, and skull crushing boots, I on the other hand stood there slowly head bobbing and hoping that the concert would end in my casual everyday clothes looking extremely out of place. But then... oh but then GoatWhore took the stage, and god were they awesome.The music was hard and fast and powerful, and they fucking knew it, a wild mosh pit appeared and wanted to fight, so idiotically we two scrawny little bastards jumped into the pit before our brains could point out what a horrendously terrible idea this was.
Now I have never gotten into an actual fight before but i was a god in that chaotic mass of violence and bodies, Damien and I were at a severe disadvantage as everyone else was roughly twice our size, me being 140 and Damien slightly smaller just to give you all a mental image.We kicked ass, not relative ass but actual full blown ass, I sent the biggest fuck in the mosh down with a series of well timed shoves, Damien and I never fell. And when I felt content with my display of superiority and some asshole tried to shove me back into the pit, I grabbed that bastard and hurled him into the fray, and then made sure he didn't escape nearly as hastily as he would have preferred.
And then when GoatWhore finished their piece it was time for the main attraction... Watain.Setting the stage took what felt to be an hour of grim anticipation, there was an alter, and banners, and great candelabras adorned with the rotting skulls of animals. A stench of death passed over the crowd like a wave and I was forced to breathe through my mouth to prevent vomiting. And then the band... the band strode onto the stage. The band so covered in blood and filth and shit and sweat, in tattered rags, they stank worse than the rotting flesh. I held back vomit a second time and started to headbang to the music, knowing nothing else I could do, just headbanging and staring up at the vocalist more ragged and filthy than any of his fellows... he danced about the platform like some kind of goblin on trollkin of a man. And as the blood and shit rained from the band I could do nothing at all but stare up at the vocalist as if he were some shit stained god. I could simply stare in horrified fascination.
When the concert ended we went to IHOP, bloody, stinking of death, exhausted from exertion, and flowing with adrenaline. As we ate a small girl approached our table and spied the blood caked on Damien's arm, she fled behind me blissfully unaware that I too had blood contracting my flesh.The night ended as any good night should, with Damien whining holding down blueberry vomit and zombie killing sprees via PS3. It was my greatest night in recent days.
As for this blog however, I came home from my delayed flight and adventures back home to find it open and logged in. It seems in my absence that Mr. Michael Henry Abner AKA Henry AKA Hank AKA this roommate of mine set it up for some reason more trivial than my own amusement, and it seems that he was foolish enough to leave it up for my vandalization. But of course kind man as I am, I decided that rather than defacing it with forged admissions of homosexuality and various other means of malicious tomfoolery I should invite myself as an author onto his blog.
Wow, I'm impressed your roommate trusts you well enough to leave his blog out in the open like this. And then you went and hijacked it. See Kal, this is why we can't have nice things.
ReplyDeletep.s. has the reek of death washed out of your clothes yet? I still can't wear my Marduk t-shirt.
Psh, speak for yourself, I have very nice things, like this blog I didn't have to put any effort into.
ReplyDeleteAbout my clothes I'm not sure, I suppose you'd have to ask Henry as I'm still wearing the same jeans, if they still reek I must have adapted to it, but I sorta doubt it as no one has complained yet.
Kal smells much as he always does - in need of a shower.
ReplyDelete