-My muffler fell off of my car last night and I had to suspend it with a bungie cord. I assume that, along with the other fixes my car needs, will cost about $1000.
-I just received a student loan bill for the past two months. $1100.
-My girlfriend's birthday is on August 15. $???
-Our anniversary is at the end of August. $???
I don't have a job.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I get a call back from somebody--anybody--this week.
Here is an epidemic that is sweeping the "scene" and is one of the most pointless things I have ever seen: free hugs.
I get it. You're trying to be nice. You're promoting unity between perfect strangers because the punk/emo/indie community should be just that--a community. Heck, that guy in that Youtube video did it, why shouldn't everyone else?
I have to admit, that's a great video and what that video showed was something that was incredibly heartwarming and uplifting. In a society where everything seems to be going wrong, it's just great to see that there are people spreading love like this. It's great and it makes anyone who watches it just feel better about people in general. I love that.
What I do not love is the amount of people that have adopted this free hug mantra as a trend. Much like Lance Armstrong's LIVESTRONG bracelets, the once-admirable cause has become bastardized by becoming successful. Take, for example, this:
That was taken at Bamboozle earlier this year and showcases exactly what is wrong with free hugs nowadays...they're not free. They're used as a promotional tool (in this case, Patent Pending) as a way to advertise the band. Want a free hug? Only if you promise to watch Patent Pending at 3:30 at the Mountain Dew Stage!
But you know what? That's not even that bad. Here's what's worse about the free hug epidemic. It's become the default thing to do at festivals. Find some cardboard, write a quirky message, reveal how pathetic you are. I am certain that the number of free hugs signs at Bamboozle earlier this year numbered in the thousands and I swear to you that I am not speaking in hyperbole.
A free hug is supposed to be a nice gesture to spread joy to people, not a selfish gesture to make yourself feel better because your sad life lacks love. There should be no stipulations to a free hug. A hug is a hug, nothing more. It's a way to connect to someone. It's a way to share warmth with someone. This once-genuine act has been bastardized and becomes meaningless in the punk/emo/indie scene.
There is something good that you should all know. He who deciphers this code will get a treat. Everybody should listen to midtown. Or die. Preferably, you should listen to midtown. People don't want other people dying over that. Of course, i was not serious about the whole dying thing. So if you want a treat, you'll just have to look closely, won't you? I, anton djamoos, already know what is going on, as does the entire staff. They are laughing at your insolence. Everybody, seriously. Online codes are lame. FtW. Ever hear of this band four year strong? All people i have heard from say that they Kill it at their live show.
Being Father's Day, we went out to dinner at the location of my paternal parent's choosing: T.G.I.Friday's. It started out as any normal meal, we all ordered our beverages, deliberated what our meals would be, engaged each other in pleasant conversation.
Let me backtrack a bit and tell you a bit about one of my minor quirks. I do not enjoy going to the bathroom in public restrooms. The thought of putting my bare ass on the same seat that some possibly anal wart-infested, herpes-spreading man sat on and could have even pissed on the seat grosses me out. This doesn't bother many people. This bothers me. Seeing as how I had been out of the house since about 11:00 a.m. in order to make it to New York City, it would be natural that I would have to urinate at least once by dinnertime. Now, you're probably asking yourself, "Why didn't Anton just use a bathroom in New York City?" The answer to this is simple and I will respond with a simile. Going to the bathroom in New York City is like having intercourse with Paris Hilton: it gets the job done, but you don't know what diseases you're going to come out with. Anyways...as if going to the bathroom in a public place is bad, there's no chance that I'm going to in a random New York bathroom. I'd let my bladder explode first. Now, where were we?
Ah, yes. I had to go to the bathroom pretty badly. We had just ordered our food and my father announced that he was going to the bathroom. What a perfect opportunity! I thought, as I could spend some quality father-son time walking the ten feet to the bathroom and I could share in the splendor that is Father's Day. We had a great walk, momentous and enthralling, such that conversation wasn't even needed. There was such a tight, kinetic bond that we silently strode to the lavatory to get down to business. (I understand the the preceding line sounded kinda bad but oh well.) We walk in (I hold the door for him) and bam!:
If you are a man, you immediately understand the problem. There were only two urinals in the bathroom and here we have an adult urinal and a kiddie urinal. As if it wasn't awkward enough that we'd have to stand next to each other, the fact that one of us would be degraded to the baby urinal was just plain humiliation. We both hesitated, perplexed at the situation at hand. A multitude of factors came into play.
First of all, I am taller than he is. The general unspoken rule is that the taller person gets the one that's higher off the ground for purely practical reasons. However, there is also the question of respect, as he is my elder and my father. Not only that, but it was freaking Father's Day! What do I do? WHAT DO I DO???
Simple. I calmly walk up to the larger urinal, unzip, and let loose. I made the tough decision for my benefit and totally disrespected his honor. If we were asian, I would probably be kicked out of the family. He walks into the open stall and does his thing. I finish first and wash my hands.
Knowing I have committed an atrocity, I wait for him to come out and wash his hands. I hand him a paper towel and hold the door for him. Redeemed!
Gather around the campfire boys and girls, Anton has a tale for you. This is a tale of woe, terror, and disaster. Most of all, this is a tale of revenge, and the ability to overcome the hardest of diversities.
Erin and I are driving to get some food or something, I really don't remember because my short term memory was erased from shock and it's a beautiful day...the sun is shining, my windows are down, the music's loud and my car looks like this:
I'm having a good time, probably singing along flawlessly to some Receiving End of Sirens while Erin cringes at my singing. Basically, I'm having a great time. Nothing can go wrong. Until, all of a sudden...
A SPIDER!!! Where the hell did it come from??? I panicked. A friggin spider started crawling along the inside of my windshield and I just froze. It sucked.
So, basically I remained calm and didn't want to say anything about it to Erin because I didn't want the spider to know I was talking about it and have it jump down and crawl all over me. Spiders are notorious for pissing me off and doing exactly what I don't want them to do, so, calmly, I freaked out and started going "ahhhhhh ohhhh my god ohhhhhhh my god....!!!" until she noticed what was going on.
Upon her advice, I pulled over and jumped out of the car and started jumping up and down and shaking my palms like a little girl at a Backstreet Boys concert although this was not an excitable freakout, this was a panicked freak out.
Then I realized, I'm going to have to do something about this. Rather than light my car on fire and get a new one, I was going to have to find some way to rid myself of this spider. It was black. It has spindly legs. It could probably move really fast. Maybe it could jump. I was not happy.
I had a cup in my car because, if you know me, you know that my car is not the most organized thing in the world and I devised a little plan. A scheme to outsmart this spider.
You see, my windows had been opened for a while, so I assume that it had been in my car since New Jersey and had been waiting for me, plotting for the perfect opportunity to crawl in my line of sight just to freak me out. Spiders do that. So, rather than admit defeat, I decided I was going to give him the worst payback possible. I was going to put him in the aforementioned cup and throw him into a shrub.
You may be thinking, "Why didn't you just kill it, Anton?" Oh, you naive reader, that would be too good for this spider. I wanted this spider to suffer, to be humiliated, and to have severe emotional stress. Throwing him into a shrub may not even seem like a punishment, it seems like I'm doing him a favor. Oh, how wrong you are.
As I have illustrated in the picture above, Kutztown and Whitehouse Station are very far apart. "So what, Anton? What does this all mean?" I'll tell you what it means. It means this:
Miles away from family, miles away from friends. Miles away from his old life. Enjoy your new life, spider.
I did not put it out of its misery, I created a whole new misery for it. I threw it in an unknown world to him, miles away from his home and his friends. It's like he's on the island on Lost and the rest of the world is the Dharma Initiative, waiting to screw around with him. Think about the psychological issues this spider will have now. I smile in retrospect, knowing that his giving me minutes of suffering has resulted in him suffering for the rest of his life. Take that, spider. Enjoy your life of loneliness in some stupid bush on the side of a road; I hope a car runs over one of your legs so you're still alive but only have 7 legs so all the other creatures mock you not only for being a loser with no friends but for being a handicapped freak as well.