Album - New Found Glory - Not Without A Fight
So once again, it's been a fortnight since I've made an entry. I'm pretty psyched I was actually able to use that term in a real sentence. Score. Things have been weird. Ever weirder such that "Your Body Is A Wonderland" as performed by John Mayer just came on my shuffle. Going further down the branches of the awkward tree is why do I have that song accessable to my ears? Only a few actually know. JM can charm my pants off any day of the week. That man is as smooth as Dell Paxton.
I have been a giant Negative Nancy and Debbie Downer on the weekends lately. But for what? Things could always be worse. Things could always be worse than getting projectile vomit spewed in your face by a friend. Wait a tick, no. But seriously, that happened. I won't get into specifics, but anyone feel free to ask and I will gladly tell my sad tale of getting a faceful of someone else's puke. In some way, I'm sure I deserved it. The world works in funny ways, and honestly, I've done so many things and gotten away with so much, I deserve to get shit on by flying elephants and raped by the Michelin man. Whatever. It all evens out at the end of the day. I can't get mad at any random shitty thing that happens to me, because I'll always be like "I've done something, sometime down the line to deserve this." I can genuinely laugh at it.
For all my whining and 20something complaining, I do laugh so much. I know I have people in my life that care about me. I have some of the best, most hilarious, unique friends and family anyone could ever wish for. Moreover, I could write a trilogy of novels about the great, random, awful, unbelievable, and sidesplitting times that I've had. I've been all over the world, and I'm not dead or in jail. I have a brain full of great stories and a stomach full of ulcers. Worth every second.
I actually was at odds with myself the other day, as I watched one of the many trainwreck reality shows I indulge in on a regular basis. I saw a group of friends in college, having a great time. I thought to myself "I wonder if I made the right choice. Doing the whole band, touring, living and traveling in a van/bus for 6 years." I totally did. No amount of money could ever replace the times I've had and people I've met. My only regret is not keeping a tour diary. Hindsight is always 20/20, I suppose. Too many "I wish I would'ves" and "I shoud'ves". I'll just piece together what I can remember, and transport the mental pictures to paper and see what comes out. A pint of puke and 5 years in prison. That's basically it.
That name has a ring to it. This gives me an idea...
More Later,
xoxo
Danny
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, September 11, 2009
when we stand on top of eachother we block out the sun
Album - Hot Water Music - Caution
I haven't been on this thing all summer. I guess, partially because there has been nothing notably awful or awesome to write about. It has been a summer for the books. A stagnant, boring, overly unproductive clump of 3 months.
The best part of the the summer was in September, when I finally attended a Phillies game, to see Cole Hamels pitch his first complete game ever, and of all things, a shutout. Good times.
So to speed up to date, my back still hurts all day long, I'm still balding at a rapid rate, and my working out/weight loss plan has taken the furthest seat on the back of the bus. Moving forward, or shall I say walking up on a down escalator, everything is nothing, however you can interpret that.
Jerk City has broken up, after several tumultuous months of canceled shows, line-ups changes, and the loss of our van, we have decided to call it quits. This decision was not an easy one to make, but rather I felt it forced upon me. It really is quite discouraging when you put your all, your heart, every ounce that you have into something, and the 4 other people involved are so unmoved, unmotivated, and just plain don't care. Some people will never know the true trials and tribulations that are entailed to run a tight ship without being deemed a Hitler of sorts. You get tons of shows, merch, a van, etc etc, and the response is not "Hey, awesome, great work. I can't wait to get on the road and hang out with my best friends everyday and play music." it is more along the lines of "Dude, I didn't sign up for this. It's more like a 9 to 5 job than it is fun anymore, man." When in hindsight, all these guys did was show up and play. I did all the work. Oh well, so much for dreams.
It's times like these that make me wonder why anyone ever bothers. Some jerk is always going to run by and knock over your sand castle. If that doesn't get you, the inevitable rising tide will one day comes smashing through and wash it away like it was never there to begin with.
Optimistic thoughts from a truly pessimistic mind, folks.
The word of the day is failure. Get used to it.
More Later,
xoxo
Danny
I haven't been on this thing all summer. I guess, partially because there has been nothing notably awful or awesome to write about. It has been a summer for the books. A stagnant, boring, overly unproductive clump of 3 months.
The best part of the the summer was in September, when I finally attended a Phillies game, to see Cole Hamels pitch his first complete game ever, and of all things, a shutout. Good times.
So to speed up to date, my back still hurts all day long, I'm still balding at a rapid rate, and my working out/weight loss plan has taken the furthest seat on the back of the bus. Moving forward, or shall I say walking up on a down escalator, everything is nothing, however you can interpret that.
Jerk City has broken up, after several tumultuous months of canceled shows, line-ups changes, and the loss of our van, we have decided to call it quits. This decision was not an easy one to make, but rather I felt it forced upon me. It really is quite discouraging when you put your all, your heart, every ounce that you have into something, and the 4 other people involved are so unmoved, unmotivated, and just plain don't care. Some people will never know the true trials and tribulations that are entailed to run a tight ship without being deemed a Hitler of sorts. You get tons of shows, merch, a van, etc etc, and the response is not "Hey, awesome, great work. I can't wait to get on the road and hang out with my best friends everyday and play music." it is more along the lines of "Dude, I didn't sign up for this. It's more like a 9 to 5 job than it is fun anymore, man." When in hindsight, all these guys did was show up and play. I did all the work. Oh well, so much for dreams.
It's times like these that make me wonder why anyone ever bothers. Some jerk is always going to run by and knock over your sand castle. If that doesn't get you, the inevitable rising tide will one day comes smashing through and wash it away like it was never there to begin with.
Optimistic thoughts from a truly pessimistic mind, folks.
The word of the day is failure. Get used to it.
More Later,
xoxo
Danny
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
red letter day
Album - The Get Up Kids - Something To Write Home About
The above noted record has been the most important collection of perfect songs I have ever been gifted with hearing.
now here is a rough draft of the 5 most important records of my 25 years of being alive
In no particular order
The Get Up Kids - Something To Write Home About
Rancid - ...And Out Come The Wolves
Operation Ivy - Energy
Green Day - 1,039 Smoothed Out Slappy Hours
GZA - Liquid Swords
I have had a love affair with Lookout! Records' back catalog for the past 15 years.
here are some other bands that their entire discographys make me love being alive
Lifetime
Kid Dynamite
Descendents
Gorilla Biscuits
Merauder
Bouncing Souls
Screeching Weasel
Buried Alive
Gaslight Anthem
Jawbreaker
If you are not familiar with those bands, please do yourself a favor and go to your local Mom & Pop record store and pick up a record from any of them. All are flawless.
The above noted record has been the most important collection of perfect songs I have ever been gifted with hearing.
now here is a rough draft of the 5 most important records of my 25 years of being alive
In no particular order
The Get Up Kids - Something To Write Home About
Rancid - ...And Out Come The Wolves
Operation Ivy - Energy
Green Day - 1,039 Smoothed Out Slappy Hours
GZA - Liquid Swords
I have had a love affair with Lookout! Records' back catalog for the past 15 years.
here are some other bands that their entire discographys make me love being alive
Lifetime
Kid Dynamite
Descendents
Gorilla Biscuits
Merauder
Bouncing Souls
Screeching Weasel
Buried Alive
Gaslight Anthem
Jawbreaker
If you are not familiar with those bands, please do yourself a favor and go to your local Mom & Pop record store and pick up a record from any of them. All are flawless.
Friday, May 8, 2009
for you, ms. yates
Google image search is a hell of a thing to be doing on a Friday night. I am a failure.
Monday, April 27, 2009
young, loud & scotty
Album - The Loved Ones - Build & Burn
Ok. First of all, how about this weather? F. Let me first cite how great it feels to run 4 miles while listening to Fireworks, and then immediately taking an unnecessarily hot shower.
Today has been one of the best days in quite some time. Aside from another morning being awoken by a chest puddle and the feeling that someone handled fried chicken for an extensive amount of time, then proceeded to play Neil Peart drum solos on my face and neck for the entire duration of my slumber. Back to the awesomely fulfilling day that was a Monday of all things.
I first come to find out that karma does, in fact, exist. I enter the office today to a sea of smiles and giggles. At first thought, I was like "great, either my fly is open or I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe, or my bald spot is becoming more of a laughable nature's haircut than something to slyly comb over." To my delight and surprise, none of these things are so. One of my many sought after wishes have been answered. The biggest dick in the office was fired. For sexual harassment. It doesn't get much better than that. I've spent long days sitting in my cubicle, staring at his stupid face, thinking of how I'd love to glue pencils to the bottom of my shoes, dropkick him, and find a speedy exit without even being noticed. This will do, I suppose.
Next, I get home with a burst of motivation, and get moving towards a long needed multitask. I quickly put the new Jerk City demo tracks for the new EP onto my ipod, and head to the treadmill. The end result? Lyrics, vocal patterns and hooks written for 3 songs, and a 4 mile brisk jog. Might I add that during this jog, I get a call from a friend at the Phillies game informing me that not only did they win, but hit 2 grand slams in the bottom of the 9th inning. God bless the Philadelphia Phillies and all their loyal followers.
What a day. It is midnight and I haven't felt this accomplished in months. And, really, what did I do today? Not anything that a normal human being with arms, legs and a functioning brain couldn't handle with ease. This does not leave me deterred in the least bit. I am happy, content and proud of myself. That is something for the first time in as far as I can remember, I can say, and not have my pants burst into flames, or my nose go through a windshield.
One last thought before I eat grilled chicken, and watch The Office until Ambien makes me weird, tired and then comatose. My friend is joining the Coast Guard. I love this man. He's probably one of the most genuine people I have ever met in my life. I think he feels trapped and without resolve towards his future. The twenty-something years are quite scary. The old saying "shit or get off the pot" never has more meaning or reality. You are kind of stuck in this purgatory-esqe state of what to do and where to go. Watching your friends get married, succeed, settle down and get it together doesn't help the anxiety much, but you also cannot be bitter. One of my longtime friends whom I have shared forgetless memories with is getting hitched and I couldn't be happier for him. Back to Dirtwater guarding the coast. I hope this decision finds him well, and I will be behind him 100% if his heart is really in it. I just don't want him to make an impulse decision, and later come to find it was an awful irreversable mistake, and start 69ing his fellow Coast Guarders, so they institute the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" and give him a Dishonorable Discharge for trying to give his Sgt. a handy. Whatever. My rant is over.
What does guarding the coast entail? When I think it of it, all I can picture is Baywatch and cammo cargos. Weird. Oh well. Mud, I hope your path finds you success and Jack In The Box or In -N- Out. Go West for bootcamp. You'll thank me when you're knee deep in Animal Style burgers.
More Later,
xoxo
Danny
Ok. First of all, how about this weather? F. Let me first cite how great it feels to run 4 miles while listening to Fireworks, and then immediately taking an unnecessarily hot shower.
Today has been one of the best days in quite some time. Aside from another morning being awoken by a chest puddle and the feeling that someone handled fried chicken for an extensive amount of time, then proceeded to play Neil Peart drum solos on my face and neck for the entire duration of my slumber. Back to the awesomely fulfilling day that was a Monday of all things.
I first come to find out that karma does, in fact, exist. I enter the office today to a sea of smiles and giggles. At first thought, I was like "great, either my fly is open or I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe, or my bald spot is becoming more of a laughable nature's haircut than something to slyly comb over." To my delight and surprise, none of these things are so. One of my many sought after wishes have been answered. The biggest dick in the office was fired. For sexual harassment. It doesn't get much better than that. I've spent long days sitting in my cubicle, staring at his stupid face, thinking of how I'd love to glue pencils to the bottom of my shoes, dropkick him, and find a speedy exit without even being noticed. This will do, I suppose.
Next, I get home with a burst of motivation, and get moving towards a long needed multitask. I quickly put the new Jerk City demo tracks for the new EP onto my ipod, and head to the treadmill. The end result? Lyrics, vocal patterns and hooks written for 3 songs, and a 4 mile brisk jog. Might I add that during this jog, I get a call from a friend at the Phillies game informing me that not only did they win, but hit 2 grand slams in the bottom of the 9th inning. God bless the Philadelphia Phillies and all their loyal followers.
What a day. It is midnight and I haven't felt this accomplished in months. And, really, what did I do today? Not anything that a normal human being with arms, legs and a functioning brain couldn't handle with ease. This does not leave me deterred in the least bit. I am happy, content and proud of myself. That is something for the first time in as far as I can remember, I can say, and not have my pants burst into flames, or my nose go through a windshield.
One last thought before I eat grilled chicken, and watch The Office until Ambien makes me weird, tired and then comatose. My friend is joining the Coast Guard. I love this man. He's probably one of the most genuine people I have ever met in my life. I think he feels trapped and without resolve towards his future. The twenty-something years are quite scary. The old saying "shit or get off the pot" never has more meaning or reality. You are kind of stuck in this purgatory-esqe state of what to do and where to go. Watching your friends get married, succeed, settle down and get it together doesn't help the anxiety much, but you also cannot be bitter. One of my longtime friends whom I have shared forgetless memories with is getting hitched and I couldn't be happier for him. Back to Dirtwater guarding the coast. I hope this decision finds him well, and I will be behind him 100% if his heart is really in it. I just don't want him to make an impulse decision, and later come to find it was an awful irreversable mistake, and start 69ing his fellow Coast Guarders, so they institute the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" and give him a Dishonorable Discharge for trying to give his Sgt. a handy. Whatever. My rant is over.
What does guarding the coast entail? When I think it of it, all I can picture is Baywatch and cammo cargos. Weird. Oh well. Mud, I hope your path finds you success and Jack In The Box or In -N- Out. Go West for bootcamp. You'll thank me when you're knee deep in Animal Style burgers.
More Later,
xoxo
Danny
Saturday, April 25, 2009
end serenading
Album - Fireworks - All I Have To Offer Is My Own Confusion
I've been having the strangest dreams. Ones that shake me to the core. Some that just flat out don't make any sense. Most, I know, are my subconscious, pushing out my fears, concerns and real feelings on certain situations and areas of my life that I am utterly unhappy with.
Laziness and backward tendencies are finally a thing of the past. At least for now, until another stutter step forces me back to what I know best: non-productivity.
I have been exercising way more, which I actually put off to make an entry here. Regardless, my rotund body will be on the Nordic Track within an half hour. I've been listening to more pop-punk than I would ever like to admit. It makes me feel younger again. It's funny how I always come back to music and feelings going hand in hand. It makes me smile to think of how little I had to worry about 10 years ago, but in the same respect, those little things seemed like the world at the time. Those little things that were so important, and now where are they? It is so intriguing how easily the human brain can adjust to any situation, given no other option.
A friend quoted The Shawshank Redemption to me today. "You either get busy living, or get busy dying." Truer words could never be spoken. Who would've thought Morgan Freeman and his moles would be the one to say it. Off subject, I'm convinced you could drive a Cadillac through one of that man's nostrils with ease. He probably keeps books in them. That's what makes him so wise. Enough about Mr. Freeman. Good quote. Backed hard.
I'm straggling off of what I want to discuss with myself. Does that make sense? Sure it does. I've had quite a bit on my mental plate this afternoon. Beginning the day drenched in sweat on 4 hours of sleep and hungover wasn't the raddest thing I've ever been privy to, but what can I do? Anyway, back to the things that are important to a 15 year old boy. When a girl cheats on you, or breaks up with you, and it hurts so bad at that time, you feel like that pain is never going to go away. You feel dead inside and the situation consumes your every thought. It alters your day to day life. How you get dressed, what CD you put in your walkman, and most importantly, for me at least, what you write your songs about. Look back at it now. How or why did you even give a shit? I wasted paper, creativity, and many smashed personal belongings...for what? A distant memory that just now in hindsight seems like a bad dream or an episode of one of the 500,000 mid 90's sitcoms about teen angst.
Consider me Zack Morris. Insert Kelly Kapowski here.
More Later,
xoxo
Danny
I've been having the strangest dreams. Ones that shake me to the core. Some that just flat out don't make any sense. Most, I know, are my subconscious, pushing out my fears, concerns and real feelings on certain situations and areas of my life that I am utterly unhappy with.
Laziness and backward tendencies are finally a thing of the past. At least for now, until another stutter step forces me back to what I know best: non-productivity.
I have been exercising way more, which I actually put off to make an entry here. Regardless, my rotund body will be on the Nordic Track within an half hour. I've been listening to more pop-punk than I would ever like to admit. It makes me feel younger again. It's funny how I always come back to music and feelings going hand in hand. It makes me smile to think of how little I had to worry about 10 years ago, but in the same respect, those little things seemed like the world at the time. Those little things that were so important, and now where are they? It is so intriguing how easily the human brain can adjust to any situation, given no other option.
A friend quoted The Shawshank Redemption to me today. "You either get busy living, or get busy dying." Truer words could never be spoken. Who would've thought Morgan Freeman and his moles would be the one to say it. Off subject, I'm convinced you could drive a Cadillac through one of that man's nostrils with ease. He probably keeps books in them. That's what makes him so wise. Enough about Mr. Freeman. Good quote. Backed hard.
I'm straggling off of what I want to discuss with myself. Does that make sense? Sure it does. I've had quite a bit on my mental plate this afternoon. Beginning the day drenched in sweat on 4 hours of sleep and hungover wasn't the raddest thing I've ever been privy to, but what can I do? Anyway, back to the things that are important to a 15 year old boy. When a girl cheats on you, or breaks up with you, and it hurts so bad at that time, you feel like that pain is never going to go away. You feel dead inside and the situation consumes your every thought. It alters your day to day life. How you get dressed, what CD you put in your walkman, and most importantly, for me at least, what you write your songs about. Look back at it now. How or why did you even give a shit? I wasted paper, creativity, and many smashed personal belongings...for what? A distant memory that just now in hindsight seems like a bad dream or an episode of one of the 500,000 mid 90's sitcoms about teen angst.
Consider me Zack Morris. Insert Kelly Kapowski here.
More Later,
xoxo
Danny
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