with Matt Coppens

         Thereís nothing to do. Itís thirty-one degrees outside and though the heavy snowfall hasnít even gotten close to beginning the entire ground has a thick sheet of ice covering it, making it impossible to go out and walk around. Even if that nearly invisible layer of ice were not there, there would still be nothing to do in my town. I suppose if the sun were shining I could go out for a walk. But Iíve seen everything this town has to offer and quite frankly, Iím a bit tired of the scenery. I could go for a stroll in the park and hide behind a tree while spanking my pud to the little kiddies at play. But Iíll leave that to my neighbors. Itís not that action around these here parts, in this lazy Christian town, is something scarce. It just plain doesnít exist.
          If you ask the average person what they do around here for fun theyíll more than likely tell you they either go out to a movie or go out to dinner. If theyíre feeling like really letting their hair down for the evening they might just go out and do both. Or if youíre a bit bored with all that and in the twenty-one to thirty crowd you might go out to a bar with a jukebox featuring the likes of Limp Bizkit or System of a Down and hopefully go home with a cigarette stinkiní, cake-faced, foul mouthed piece of ass and just maybe get your stubby little wee-wee wet. Sound like a good time to you? Well not me.
          While half of you are neglecting to read this and instead are prettying yourself up for the new Johnny-Come-Lately garage rock show tonight in your town, Iíll more than likely be sitting here with my record player blasting and getting completely sauced on the couch all alone. The other half of you neglecting to read this are just not in the mood to go see the new Johnny-Come-Lately garage rock show tonight. Instead youíd rather just sit at home with your cool friend with the cool shoes, shades, and vinyl collection and do speed. The band will come around another time and youíll catch them later. This is not an option for me.
          The only band you might read about on this web-zine and the only band that may be worth a damn that has come through and played here is the Functional Blackouts and for that I am eternally grateful. See, most of the time I have to drive between one and six hours to go out and catch the Hunches in Chicago, or the Catholic Boys in Detroit, or the Lids in Kalamazoo, or who-ever-the-fuck-else in Milwaukee. Skipping these shows is not something I can do. Thereís a very good chance that if I donít go see these bands when they come within six hours of me I may never get the chance to see them play again and seeing these bands play is something very important to me. Itís not the bandís fault that they donít necessarily want to go to a smaller town they have never heard of or where none of their friends live or where there arenít any bands they know of. It isnít anybodyís fault. Who would want to play a town where nobody knows who they are or have everybody know who they are but just couldnít give a fuck less? Doesnít sound like too much fun to me. But neither does sitting on my couch all alone in my piss-stained skivvies getting wasted while those bands are playing bigger more off towns.
          Iíve spent weekends in Chicago where thereís a friendís local band playing one night, the Night Terrors playing the day after, and a Marked Men show the night after and have had Chicago residents and show-goers tell me that I picked a dull and boring weekend where not much is going on to visit. Does that fucking sound like a weekend where not much is going on to you? Well not me! Christ! A weekend like that has never ever in all my twenty-four years on this planet reared its beautiful face around these hee-haw pawts for fuckís sake! What the fucking fuck are you bitches whining about!?!?!? Marked Men and Night Terrors come to play your town on two respective nights in a row and you whine to me about being bored!?!?!? I could go on forever to you about what itís like to really be bored but I donít think thereís enough room on this site for a rant so long and descriptive.
          Like I said earlier though, it isnít anybodyís fault. Not the bandís fault. Not your fault. Hell, itís not even my fault. But just maybe you should think about people like me who come from smaller towns who drive six hours on three hours of sleep to go see a nobody band play in a fucking basement in Milwaukee with a bunch of other nobody bands just because he wants to see what it might be like to see his favorite little band play in a basement next time you may be a little too tired to hop on the train ten minutes away to go check out one of these great bands playing your town tonight, tomorrow night, or any other night of the week. Donít take that shit for granted. Youíre lucky you spoiled little fuck.

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