(no subject)
Well...
I'm back home. Finally.
I was supposed to be back weeks ago. Supposed to.
I was mugged in Miami. Fuckers took my backpack.
Everyone says that when/if they are faced with a mugging, they'll do this to the guy. Or they'll do that to get out of it.
Bullshit. When literally staring down the barrel of a 12ga, & a .357, the only thing you are doing is practicing severe bowel control.
So I gave them my bag. Remembering later that my wallet (along with cash & credit cards), my return ticket for the plane, & my organizer (little black book).
Well. Lukily I take notes well. In said organizer was a note I had scribbled about in what hotel I was staying. Some nice Flordian was kind enough to return my belongings (minus the cash & credit cards) to the hotel & thus back into my hands. My return ticked was miraculously still there. I suppose they liked Miami better than Houston. That was a stressful 6 days. No cash, no ID, I couldn't even get fucked up to forget it happened. Fucking baby face... I swear to christ I look fucking 18 clean shaven.
Fuck. So here I sit. Poor. Pissed off. Just days from going on the road... again.
At least I get paid after the shows.
That's something.
I'm back home. Finally.
I was supposed to be back weeks ago. Supposed to.
I was mugged in Miami. Fuckers took my backpack.
Everyone says that when/if they are faced with a mugging, they'll do this to the guy. Or they'll do that to get out of it.
Bullshit. When literally staring down the barrel of a 12ga, & a .357, the only thing you are doing is practicing severe bowel control.
So I gave them my bag. Remembering later that my wallet (along with cash & credit cards), my return ticket for the plane, & my organizer (little black book).
Well. Lukily I take notes well. In said organizer was a note I had scribbled about in what hotel I was staying. Some nice Flordian was kind enough to return my belongings (minus the cash & credit cards) to the hotel & thus back into my hands. My return ticked was miraculously still there. I suppose they liked Miami better than Houston. That was a stressful 6 days. No cash, no ID, I couldn't even get fucked up to forget it happened. Fucking baby face... I swear to christ I look fucking 18 clean shaven.
Fuck. So here I sit. Poor. Pissed off. Just days from going on the road... again.
At least I get paid after the shows.
That's something.