christ666's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dr. Oatman, please pick up, pick up! It's Martin Blank! I'm standing where my, uh, living room was and it's not here because my house is gone and it's an Ultimart! You can never go home again, Oatman... but I guess you can shop there. My 20 year high school reunion is coming up. Yet that doesn't make me feel old. But, I started re-watching the show Rescue Me and was shocked to find out the first season aired in 2004. THAT makes me feel old. I had zero interest in attending my ten year high school reunion. About twenty or so classmates threw it in the basement of the Eagles Lodge in downtown Caldwell. The Lodge catered to mostly senior citizens, where Saturday Night Bingo was held in the banquet hall upstairs, and Lodge members could hang out in the bar downstairs and smoke. My grandfather was a member and president(?) for a long while and got me my first job there. I was a janitor on the weekends, cleaning the bathrooms and setting up the bingo tables, vacuuming the carpet in the bar and emptying all the ashtrays. It was always full of boomers and geriatrics that looked like they were stuck in the 70’s and 80’s. So I wasn’t super keen on the venue. But also, I had a stick up my ass about not wanting to seem like I cared or had any nostalgia for my high school years, so I skipped out on it. I feel different this time around, though I’m not entirely sure why. I’m definitely the kind of person that would childishly compare myself to my classmates and lament the fact I’m not as successful as I hoped to be at this point of my life. Maybe it’s my adoration for the movie Grosse Pointe Blank, and how twenty year reunions seem to be significant events in peoples’ lives. Fuck if I know. But Steve might fly down for the occasion which would be excellent. Mortal played the first Slaughterfest last month. Crazy turnout. Made lots of money. Brandon still fucked up. I went over a specific part in a cover song we played, making sure we got our timing down. Three times we worked the riff out together. On stage, he completely fucks it up. Not to mention, he played the whole set at a significantly rushed tempo that was way faster than what we had been rehearsing. I decided I’m done playing with him, and Eric is finally convinced as well. We’re taking a hiatus so MSA can finally get this fucking album released, and then we’re gonna have the talk and try things with a new drummer. I don’t know how things are gonna work out, and it makes me nervous. Ugh… life, man. Moves so fast and yet takes fucking forever. 2:50 a.m. - 2024-09-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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