Once Bitten, Twice Shire

For all that are interested, my next Geeks of Doom article can be read here. It should hold the interest of anyone who was interested in the 80’s hair metal scene which was a pretty fun time in L.A. Shire is my brother in law’s band and this is a picture of him with Guns N’ Roses Izzy Stradlin before he was famous.

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Zack Is A Poser

We all knew Zack was one bad punk
His mohawk was the flyest
His jacket bore the latest bands
His spikes stood up the highest

But one day we were hanging out
And vibin’ on Joe Strummer
He said he loved The Clash but man
He couldn’t name the drummer

It took some years to live it down
Punk friends left Zack rejected
So Zack soon took a different form
He came back resurrected

His mohawk he would grow out long
His plaid pants for spandex
Cause it was heavy metal for
Which Zack was now obsessed

But soon the whispers came about
In those small vicious circles
Zack didn’t know the seventh guy
Who sang lead in Deep Purple

Then indie, Zack in hipster phase
With beard found things ironic
Next goth then grunge then new wave and
Just briefly electronic

But each time someone sniffed him out
Twas something not quite kosher
For Zack was neither metal, punk
But simply just a poser

Zack still knows naught bout music but
I guess it’s no big diff
Since now he listen to Ms. Spears
Bieber and Taylor Swift

And wears a 3 piece suit to work
Like some hot shot breadwinner
But really does the 9-5
Employed as a sign spinner.

Inspired by a blogversation I had with Joanne and My Life Lived Full.

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Trikki Gunns

His vinyl jeans so tight that they
Muffin top his belly,
He thinks he’s a weird emo kid,
Folks think he’s old and smelly.

We know his real name is Eugene,
But Eugene’s have no fun,
Combined a cat’s and porn star’s names,
And now he’s Trikki Gunns.

The 80s already happened,
Time to update his look,
Got him some green extensions,
Wrote songs with grungy hooks.

He saw Marilyn Manson,
The white contacts he wears,
First thing next morning he ran out,
And he got himself a pair.

Now he caught up with the cool kids,
He’s looking lean and mean,
Somewhere near 1999,
Though it’s 2015.

No club in town that you could say,
His band didn’t play there,
The crowds are getting thinner,
Much like his graying his hair.

In his mind he’s a heartbreaker,
A rebel, he’s the bomb,
Taking the ladies to the home,
That he shares with his mom.

For though they’re few and far between,
He manages to score,
He says it’s just a place to lay
His head in between tours.

And thinks of that old song he knew,
Wonders if it’s a lie,
Can you be too old to rock n roll,
If you’re too young to die?

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Marissa’s Baby

I come home to find him singing,
Heavy metal which assails,
The building with a raucous din,
That sounds like a banshee wail.

Then he plays his video games,
As if in some sort of trance,
Brimstone comes forth from his ears ,
He does a demonic dance.

As a mother I love him so,
But so I have been warned,
As often he sticks out his tongue,
And throws up the devil horns.

I try to make him a nice birthday,
Roller skating with his friends,
He cackles evilly and asks,
When the ritual begins.

Only does he get excited,
When candles light with fire,
His eyes go wide as he exclaims,
Cool, a funeral pyre!

So I decide to ask his dad,
What from it he can discern,
Do the other boys act like this?
Do we need to be concerned?

But my husband just assures me,
That all of this is normal,
After all he’s a preteen boy,
Perhaps it’s just hormonal.

And laughs it off as he goes down,
To that overheated den,
And mutters he must have misplaced,
His darn pitchfork again.

Happy 12th Birthday To My Sweet Boy!

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I’m Breaking Up With You Because…

This was actually one of the first blogs I wrote and today’s Daily Prompt inspired me to reblog it. (Hope that isn’t cheating.)

Recently, I was inspired by a blog written by new favorite blogger The Office In Betweener ( http://seansmithson.com/). (If you haven’t read his blog you really should). He said he was trying to follow a blog written by a woman who was trying to go on 30 dates by the time she was 30 and blogging about them.

This does seem like an interesting premise for a blog and it made me reflect on the many, many dates I went on when I was younger. However, being on the rock n’ roll dating scene, they weren’t so much dates as a series of glorified booty calls. Still, my experiences prepared me a virtual pupu platter of men which I sampled without the complications of a full on relationship.

The problem, or maybe not the problem, but one of the desired outcomes, is that these relationships often fizzle out rather than coming to an ugly ending in which you tell each other how you really feel.  However, sometimes I wish I could tell them what idiots (cute idiots, but idiots nonetheless) they appeared to be at various times. So here I go, vicariously making fools of all of them in open Dear John letters. I will change the names to protect the innocent.

Dear Eddie,

Because you have a mommy complex, because it is not cute to put the adjective ‘Little’ before your name when we all know you are about 5 years older than most of the people in the club, and because 5’2 is definitely too short for a man.

Dear Jamie,

Because I really can’t be with a guy who can’t tear himself away from a mirror, who takes longer to get ready in the morning then I do, who may be gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that) and if not missed a really good opportunity, and, oh yeah, who has a very obvious nose job.

Dear Marc,

Because you really need to get a car. I simply can’t be driving you home every time after we hook up. Also, the glam heavy metal thing is kind of getting old. I suggest you update your look and seriously look into a day job. You’re really getting a bit long in the tooth for all this.

Dear Tracy,

Because you didn’t take your shirt off when we…you know, but I could still see that your quite overweight. Because you made funny noises when you…you know, and just because you had somewhat of a career back in the 90s, your really not all that.

Dear  Kurt,

Because the 90s are calling and they want their dread locks back. Because you blasted rap music at top volume in the car when we were driving home (and not even cool, rock type rap). Because you live way out in the valley and think it’s cool. Because I don’t like the fact that your huge dog sleeps in the bed. And, oh yeah, because you’re a stupid idiot!!

Thanks. I feel much better now!!

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/22/daily-prompt-tainted-love/

 

 

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image credit: http://relationshipplaybook.com/2012/10/breakup/

23 Things You Should Do Before You’re 23

So over the weekend Suzie81 wrote a blog about another blog, 23 Things To Do Instead of Getting Engaged Before You’re 23. I had never heard of the original blog, but apparently, the girl who wrote this blog got called a slut and a whore for writing about alternative activities she would partake in rather than getting engaged before turning 23. Also, apparently, this girl’s blog went viral. In the meantime, I can’t seem to get arrested in this town. So taking the point of view that all publicity is good publicity, here’s my list but it’s late so I don’t think I’ll get to 23. Bring it on bitches!!

1. Sleep with at least 10 people
2. Go out without any underwear
3. Strip in a strip club
4.Hang out with Miley Cyrus
5.Go through a goth phase
6. Go through a heavy metal phase
7. Go through a punk phase (complete with green hair, a mohawk, and piercings)
8. Get rip roaring drunk and throw up on your neighbors lawn
9. Sniff glue
10. Worship Satan

http://wanderonwards.com/2013/12/30/23-things-to-do-instead-of-getting-engaged-before-youre-23/

http://suzie81.wordpress.com/2014/01/04/23-things-you-should-actually-do-before-youre-23/

(blogged, trashed, revised, reblogged, thank you)