3.30.2009

WHO DISHES BEHIND HIS BACK WINS



I bitch about my poorly-timed birth (too late for Van Halen and Hitchcock, too early for space porn) but at least I'm right on the money with The Simpsons and Kobe Bryant. I started watching NBA basketball right as Bryant was coming off a brutal ordeal surrounding charges of sexual assault followed by a couple of hideous post-Shaq seasons. He chilled out after that shit. Hence our love is so pure cuz I missed five years of his being a huge arrogant bastard. 

I find a parallel in my history with Thrash Metal. I came of age just as Thrash was growing beyond the sound of dumb heshers being dumb. Nay, by the time I was old enough to count money Slayer ditched reverb and high screams; the lyrics of Testament no longer detailed scarifying tales of horror, instead opting for the socio-political; mid-era Anthrax could really put a melody together (below); Metallica didn't once mention leather or spikes. Good times. 

I would've suffered a lot less heartache if only I could time my death just as perfectly. Like if I hadn't survived the time I dared Mike to push me in front of a train in 1992. Hey you take six hits of acid and see what sounds like a fun Thursday afternoon idea.  

No comments: