hey, fuck you
this is the most pissed i've ever been.
3 weeks of soild fucking practice,
no life outside this fucking band,
4 hours a night,
not seeing anyone,
not doing anything else,
and the show fucking blows.
what the fuck.
tracey got back last night, he wants to play the show.
dude, you were gone for a fucking month.
I dont even know were to start.
He sucks at drums, and wants back in the band. I dont want him back,
I dont even want mickey.
Fuck em both.
This is the first time i've ever felt like an idiot on stage, we just couldn't get it the fuck together. I think people got the hint when i told everyone to fuck off and that the MP is the shittyest fucking venue that i've ever played.
Then mickeys girlfriend has the fucking odesatiy to tell me off because we didn't let mickey play the full set, and that we let tracey close out the show for two songs.
"your better than that, lets just leave now, your such a fucking asshole dave"
Whoa cunt, This wasn't even my fucking idea.
and what the fuck are we supposed to do? Play a 15min set because mike couldn't learn the full set? Fuck you.
I'm done with this fucking band.
after the show i want to rail so i can see the set at hells kitchen, and no one wants to load the god damn surburban, so i fucking missed it. all of it.
fuck man.
fuck this.
I didn't think this band consumed my life untill now.
at the fucking least mickeys fine malt liquor is treating me fine.
joella and tracey seem to be hitting it off well in the 29 hours hes been back,
i had to fucking work today.
fuck
i'm fucking pissed.
i think i will continue to drown my sorrows well into the week, call brad, ditch out and join fatum.
one would think that afte a month of practiceaeger we would of owned that place.
it felt like a fucking joke.
I'm tired of looking on the upside, exspecially when a bottle will solve so many problems, rather than talking about them. hahahah
i guess some things never change.
heres to you, to everyone i hate.
3 weeks of soild fucking practice,
no life outside this fucking band,
4 hours a night,
not seeing anyone,
not doing anything else,
and the show fucking blows.
what the fuck.
tracey got back last night, he wants to play the show.
dude, you were gone for a fucking month.
I dont even know were to start.
He sucks at drums, and wants back in the band. I dont want him back,
I dont even want mickey.
Fuck em both.
This is the first time i've ever felt like an idiot on stage, we just couldn't get it the fuck together. I think people got the hint when i told everyone to fuck off and that the MP is the shittyest fucking venue that i've ever played.
Then mickeys girlfriend has the fucking odesatiy to tell me off because we didn't let mickey play the full set, and that we let tracey close out the show for two songs.
"your better than that, lets just leave now, your such a fucking asshole dave"
Whoa cunt, This wasn't even my fucking idea.
and what the fuck are we supposed to do? Play a 15min set because mike couldn't learn the full set? Fuck you.
I'm done with this fucking band.
after the show i want to rail so i can see the set at hells kitchen, and no one wants to load the god damn surburban, so i fucking missed it. all of it.
fuck man.
fuck this.
I didn't think this band consumed my life untill now.
at the fucking least mickeys fine malt liquor is treating me fine.
joella and tracey seem to be hitting it off well in the 29 hours hes been back,
i had to fucking work today.
fuck
i'm fucking pissed.
i think i will continue to drown my sorrows well into the week, call brad, ditch out and join fatum.
one would think that afte a month of practiceaeger we would of owned that place.
it felt like a fucking joke.
I'm tired of looking on the upside, exspecially when a bottle will solve so many problems, rather than talking about them. hahahah
i guess some things never change.
heres to you, to everyone i hate.