"The Man In The Trees"

early in my musical career, if you can call it that, i met and fell deeply for a wonderful man we will name "Spooky". his lyrical intensity and musical genius made my skin crawl in a way that would make college girls scream in orgasmic ecstacy. we quickly became friends in the richmond music scene. he was a collaborator, an engeneering tool and a truely endless friend.

"Spooky" took locoal music to the next level on all fronts, his insight was a blessing, a gift. his need to push the standard was a kick in perverbial dick piece, he made me the person that i am today. his name god given name, which i am am not at liberty to express, is a name sake that the world will long to know.

our band played numerous shows with his band at the time which was named "Pheonix Thorn", had a 1 to 1 running in the 1st annual "painted red: battle of the bands". we placed 2nd. did we cry like cowardly little bitches, no! we bowed down to the incredible might that played before us. we were awestruck by the musical perfection, dedication and might that he COMMANDED from his bandmates. we were instantly tied intoo the local scene and we bounced ideas off of each other to better the RVA (Ricmond, Virginia) scene.

the band that i was apart of did mutiple sessions to be ready to go into the recording studio, The Sound Of Music, in downtown Richmond with his help. he pushed us to be the best possible band we could be.

we, the 6 of us, went into the proffesional studio to record out first full length album with the ass-kicking backing of "Spooky" and we laid down several track we had decided were the best in which we had at the time. we were scared out of out wits and minds, we were children in the domain of adults. with that expressed we pressed on through quarells, disagreements and undder failure. "Spooky" came to our rescue, and saved us from the the cliche downfall that would have comsumed other bands with the firey hate of a thousand firey suns. he said: "dude, take it one track at a time make it as beautiful and emotional as possible, because if you don't, people won't know the problems you ALL have known."

my life was changed for the better after he said that seemingly simple phrase. "Spooky" took the stressful moment and made it a message that WE ALL had to convey the world. Thank whatever God was guiding him. a prophetic idea that was spoken whether or not he knew it at the time.

months later we were silver-plater, hand given the show of a life-time: OPEN FOR BREAKING BENJAMIN. the 6 of of us: steve, charlie, justin, andrew, eddie & myself were lobbed the chance to open for a NATIONAL headlinging act. a dream only realized amongst the dumbest of local acts. we took it like drunken pre-teen boys at the chance of getting laid for the first time.

we were litterally stapling books together for out "debut" cd in a booth at Canal Club 3 hours before the show began. it was our IT tech Adam, Tracy Coker (mother of charlie & steve - guitar and bass), myself, Kim Harrison, steve's at the time, girlfriend, Alicia, justin, eddie, charlie and etc. we worked liked asian shoe makers to get the cd's ready for a show 14 days to follow.

the show went off without a hitch. we demolished The Canal Club with about 150 local followers and all the people who came, strickly, religiously, to see BREAKING BENJAMIN. we played our 20 minute set, broke down and went abour our business. suddenly some semi-druken guy comes running up to our merch table and said as loud as fuck: "oh my god, you guys were fucking awesome, do you have a cd?!" given the circumstances "Mama Steve" said "well, we do but we're not selling until November 'such and such'. this guy about shit bricks and replyed with "i will pay you whatever BREAKING BENJAMIN is offering just to have this cd, you guys were incredile!!!"

we, as local artists, had no choice but to "price match" with BREAKING BENJAMIN...fucking stupid.

so we sold 30 cd's for $12 a piece, given the fact that we only wanted $10. fuck coperate america.

"Spooky" was there and reveled in the beauty of a local act getting more credit than a douche-soaked national act.

So, from this cynical asshole, i wish the best for my fellow vocalist, musician, and downright decible charged human being, a life of wonderment and delight.

Thank You, **** "Spooky" *********

"Wishful Thinking Under Concrete Clouds"

if it wasn't for the literature i've read, the records i've listened to & fallen in love with AND the intellgent people i have had to pleasure to meet i'm quite sure that long ago i would've made the headlines, media stations, and met the inside of a criminal institution in the place in which i dwell.

the truth is the collective intelligence of the world we all know and love has declined into a state of slobbering porn crazed drug-heads who abuse the joys of illegal "substances". moderation is a virtue. with this said, these walking panty stains we refer to as "people" and "human beings" are ruining the small happy medium that wonderful work ethic gripping people get to use to relax with. drunk drivers are the worst. it takes a sick, sad, worthless fuck-head to destroy the delight of intoxication. i will willingly stand and state: "yes i can drink like an irish-man, get plastered like the walls of a cheap apartment and still wake up sober and do my job to support my family, feed and cloth my child AND still have the common sense to know that if i see 2 of something that there is indeed only 1 of, i will stay my ass home and live to drive another day".

THESE PEOPLE SHOULD BE FUCKED, SHOT, RAPED VICIOUSLY WITH A BROKEN BROOMSTICK NAMED PEDRO, POISONED AND THEN HUNG FROM THE TALLEST TREE.

people who abuse the sweet drugs that roam rampant around the world, (acid, pot, ecstacy, etc.), are only hoping to escape the blatant fact that they have nothing else to live for or rely on because they refuse to better themselves or the world in which they live. fuck these cowardly vaginal discharges who suck up our oxygen and eat our food. again, a little dab will do you, don't over-fucking-do it. i've been ridiculously stoned before. i've tripped harder than a child with pidgeon toes. i've been rollin' like an 18 wheeler. given all of this i still have a job, a purpose, a growing intelligence and the want to become a better person all around.

IF YOU CAN'T STOP AFTER A JOINT, DON'T SMOKE. IF YOU CAN'T STOP AFTER 4 HITS OF ACID, SEEK REHAB. IF YOU CAN'T STOP DROPPING PILLS FOR DIRTY POPPIN' BEATS, I SUGGEST REHAB, SUICIDE, OR MANDITORY COURT-APPOINTED DETOXIFICATION.

so, if can stop even if you're not completely ripped, stoned, trippin' or rollin' bals, i comend you and wish you well on your next adventure into hedonism.

if you can't...well...prepare for overdose or getting caught in a situation that involves blue lights, frisking, a full body cavity search and bartering your body in prison for a single cigarette.

there is fear and loathing in the world. buy the ticket, take the ride.

These Are Jerry's Kids

today was a sickening day for me, given the fact that i read and understand the english language in the majority of its forms. i was asked a very, very serious question about a seemingly simple word in the language that i speak with every last employee i work with. i was violently, by violently i mean i was dry heaving 20 minutes later in the closet we call a bathroom at work, because my "co-worker" asked my what the word "fatally" meant. really, fatally?! where did this walking ejaculation, should be abortion, poster-child for birth control come from?!?! i, being the semi-calm asshole that i am, explained the meaning of fatally to someone who is at least 10 years older than myself. so i spelled it out, which without a dictionary present, is "to be wounded or harmed, in a way that would end life or kill." this person stared at me awestruck, dumbfounded by the answer. this wasn't surprising because the word came about in the following statement i made to this "co-worker": if you don't shut the fuck up and listen the following instructions that i am giving you, i will willingly and lovingly fatally wound you with a car.  why do i get stuck home training "grown-ups" while i have several others to do while in my workplace?! i'm sure i am not the only person to deal with this on a daily basis. i'm sure others have it worse than myself. however, i can now see the american learning curve at work and it makes me happy i don't own a firearm. i would greatfully firebomb these mentally handicapped fucktards out of the collective intelligence of the world today. it is an hourly, daily, weekly struggle to keep calm in the face of the idiots that plague the earth. i don't blame TV, i don't blame the internet, hell, i don't even blame any kind of media that is at our fingertips...i blame lazy ass parents who expect under-paid teachers to re-invigorate the minds of bastard children that weakling fuck-bunny-hoodrats spew out of their disease ridden loins on a regular basis. i wish the 50's would come back; complete with the poodle skirts, greaser ass-kickings and lack of pity for dumbass motherfucking losers that want to skate through the education system. i suggest IQ testing for all potential parents from this moment on. i long for genetic testing to rid this world of laziness, weakness and downright stupidity to further the best intentions of the world for tomorrow.