High School

I saw “Snakes on a Plane” but I have nothing to say about it. Except that it was about 50 times better than I thought it was going to be. Well, that’s not true. It was more like 15 times better. But I saw it at Madison’s great old Orpheum Theatre, and they had cans of Pabst for a buck, and I had several bucks on me. That helped, a lot. I in no way want to encourage alcohol abuse, but if you plan on seeing this movie, the only merciful thing to do is probably to consume alcohol, from a can. I’ve never seen a movie that tried so hard to be bad, so hard that it was, good?

The summer is ending and people are dropping like flies. Earlier this month, me, DJ, and OMGIMike went to a going away party for an old high school friend who is moving to L.A. to try and make it as an actor. Another Wisconsin kid ecstatic to go wait in traffic and fork over his fry-cook’s salary to King Schwarzenegger. All cynicism aside, good luck you ballsy motherfucker. Anyway, at the par-tay I saw many kids I hadn’t seen since graduation all those years ago. Everyone either got hotter or fatter. Joe just got out of the Air Force and said it had “treated him well,” Dan looks like a sexy pirate and has been living in Scotland, and Katie has a 3 year old kid, was voted best barber in the Midwest, and told me and DJ that our hair cuts “sucked.” Your haircut sucked Katie.

It was like wandering around a drunken timewarp. Numbers and promises (and no doubt some saliva) were exchanged, but without any actual obligations. Fun indeed, but not the kind of fun I particularly need to do again, at least for another 5 years (I wonder how many babies will have been spit out by then)? Anyway, just like breasts and marijuana, I was exposed to badass music from the 1970’s in High School, the most badass of all being Black Sabbath (obviously). They were only a scary name until Natvig sold me “Paranoid” during Poli Sci, which prompted me to buy “Black Sabbath” (self-titled) on the way to pick up my date for the Midwinter Dance. I was late as a result and she was deeply offended. And then, while standing in her living room, the cut I had given my self whilst shaving hurriedly began to bleed, and her mom had to go get me a kleenex. I was not exposed to breasts that night.

The cd store I bought Black Sabbath at no longer exists, but I found a used copy of “Never Say Die” a few weeks ago at a store which does still exist, allowing me to finally complete my collection of Ozzy fronted Sabbath (fuck that Dio shit). Below is a sweet song off of it. Sabbath was so hardcore, they could use synthesizers. They could use the fuck out of them.

Black Sabbath – Junior’s Eyes