run, sugar, run for your life
Here are my thoughts on all important issues in bandom right now: NEEDS MORE PORNFICTION.
Although there was one thread in that anon meme where someone was talking about Joe/Pete/Patrick, so that was pretty amazing.
The problem with anon memes and other drama at any time is that even if you don't participate in it, you are 75% likely to make a post about how you're not participating in it, which still means I'm spending the majority of my flist reading time caught up in anon meme shenanigans and not reading fic. Like now. I would much rather be reading new stories and horrifying the dude next to me in class when he notices special four-letter words, man. Snack (on each other) times can be over soon? Get back to writing, bandom. [/pot-kettle mouth vomit]
In even more important news, this picture of Frank has compelled me to tell you a very short story. It's actually set during Warped '05 instead of present-day, just because. Would you like to hear it? Here it go --
Are You My Bob Bryar?
By P.D. Eastman
Translated by Charli J
A drummer, Bob Bryar, sat at his drum kit. He felt sluggish.
"I gotta get some more Red Bull," he said. So away he went.
Back on the stage, Frank came jumping onto the platform. He jumped and jumped and jumped until he realized something was wrong.
"Where is Bob?" he said. He did not see Bob anywhere.
"I will go and look for him," Frank said.
Off the stage he went, down, down, down, and down. Plop! Frankie landed on his bottom, but he wasn't hurt. He could still walk.
"Now I will go find Bob," he said.
;;
"Are you my drummer?" Frank asked Mikey.
Mikey just looked and looked at Frank. He did not say a thing.
;;
"Are you my drummer?" Frank asked Ray.
"No," said Ray. He figured Frank was playing some weird game.
;;
"Are you my drummer?" Frank asked Patrick.
"I'm not your drummer," Patrick said, laughing. "I still have to sing. I thought we were going to switch at the end of the tour?"
;;
"Are you my drummer?" Frank asked Pete.
"How could I be your drummer?" said Pete. "I hardly play bass!"
;;
Frank stopped to think. Mikey and Ray were not who he was looking for. Neither Patrick nor Pete were his drummer either.
"I have a Bob," Frank said to himself. "I know I do. And I will find him, I will, I will."
Just then Frank saw a big man.
"You are my drummer!" said Frank.
The big man said, Snorrrrt!
"Oh, no!" said Frank. "You are not Bob. You are a scary Snort!"
The scary Snort lifted Frank up, up, up. Frank was doomed for sure. Then something happened! The scary Snort put Frank back on the stage. Frank was safe and back where he'd started!
Just then Bob returned his place on stage too, sitting behind his drums.
"I know who you are," Frank said, pointing. "I'm glad you're not Mikey or Ray, another band's singer, or some dude who can barely play bass, or a Snort. You're Bob! And you are my drummer."
"Uhhh, yeah," Bob said, eyeing Frank warily. He then held out one hand holding a Red Bull. "You want one? I grabbed two, but now I don't think I'm gonna drink both."
"Sure," Frank said. He was happy.
See what happens when you leave me to entertain myself? Danger, danger! Your children's books are not safe.
Although there was one thread in that anon meme where someone was talking about Joe/Pete/Patrick, so that was pretty amazing.
The problem with anon memes and other drama at any time is that even if you don't participate in it, you are 75% likely to make a post about how you're not participating in it, which still means I'm spending the majority of my flist reading time caught up in anon meme shenanigans and not reading fic. Like now. I would much rather be reading new stories and horrifying the dude next to me in class when he notices special four-letter words, man. Snack (on each other) times can be over soon? Get back to writing, bandom. [/pot-kettle mouth vomit]
In even more important news, this picture of Frank has compelled me to tell you a very short story. It's actually set during Warped '05 instead of present-day, just because. Would you like to hear it? Here it go --
Are You My Bob Bryar?
By P.D. Eastman
Translated by Charli J
A drummer, Bob Bryar, sat at his drum kit. He felt sluggish.
"I gotta get some more Red Bull," he said. So away he went.
Back on the stage, Frank came jumping onto the platform. He jumped and jumped and jumped until he realized something was wrong.
"Where is Bob?" he said. He did not see Bob anywhere.
"I will go and look for him," Frank said.
Off the stage he went, down, down, down, and down. Plop! Frankie landed on his bottom, but he wasn't hurt. He could still walk.
"Now I will go find Bob," he said.
;;
"Are you my drummer?" Frank asked Mikey.
Mikey just looked and looked at Frank. He did not say a thing.
;;
"Are you my drummer?" Frank asked Ray.
"No," said Ray. He figured Frank was playing some weird game.
;;
"Are you my drummer?" Frank asked Patrick.
"I'm not your drummer," Patrick said, laughing. "I still have to sing. I thought we were going to switch at the end of the tour?"
;;
"Are you my drummer?" Frank asked Pete.
"How could I be your drummer?" said Pete. "I hardly play bass!"
;;
Frank stopped to think. Mikey and Ray were not who he was looking for. Neither Patrick nor Pete were his drummer either.
"I have a Bob," Frank said to himself. "I know I do. And I will find him, I will, I will."
Just then Frank saw a big man.
"You are my drummer!" said Frank.
The big man said, Snorrrrt!
"Oh, no!" said Frank. "You are not Bob. You are a scary Snort!"
The scary Snort lifted Frank up, up, up. Frank was doomed for sure. Then something happened! The scary Snort put Frank back on the stage. Frank was safe and back where he'd started!
Just then Bob returned his place on stage too, sitting behind his drums.
"I know who you are," Frank said, pointing. "I'm glad you're not Mikey or Ray, another band's singer, or some dude who can barely play bass, or a Snort. You're Bob! And you are my drummer."
"Uhhh, yeah," Bob said, eyeing Frank warily. He then held out one hand holding a Red Bull. "You want one? I grabbed two, but now I don't think I'm gonna drink both."
"Sure," Frank said. He was happy.
See what happens when you leave me to entertain myself? Danger, danger! Your children's books are not safe.