turtle burns the track.

Hellacopters Fire Fire Fire

This is the ultimate weekend song. This song, there was just something to it. Something in the lyrics. Set it for a six pack and a fast car! Oh yeah! Dude, those are lyrics to tear out of a drag strip riot from. You can feel the energy in that song coming out of your speakers.

There were a few years where I would get home from work with a six pack of King Cobras, a few pills and a bag of dope. I knew I had to slow down or the night was over. I had to get some kind of rest to kill the dreaded hours of 6 till 9. If you don't know why these are the dreaded hours, you aren't a seasoned alcoholic. These are the hours that will make or break your night. In these three short hours a decision would be made. To get high and drunk and forget about this world or to take a nap and then do them before you went out. Those were hard hours. Hours when I would get naked and hit the bed with only the sound of sirens passing by as I buried my head in the blanket and tried to dream the sleep of all cowards. I knew I would sleep. But, I also knew the phone would ring. See, I am someone like that. If the phone rings when I am asleep, I will stir, but not wake up. It's just one of my things.

So after the phone rings about 11 times, I got up. Fuck, It’s only 8. I still have another hour before I can start to drink.

Vivarin comes out. Cheap speed. Pop a few in and crack a beer. Hellacopters goes on. Another beer went back. Knock out a line of dope. Another beer goes back.

Ever notice that people always come over when you are breaking out drugs? But, anyways, my hands would shake as I put the beer to my lips. More friends would come in and the song would play again. I had nothing really to go for except getting higher. Fire fire fire! What the fuck. It's Friday.

So in the end it's kind of a sad thing. I hear one of my favorite songs now and I remember a place I was in.

But, you know what?

I still crank that fucker up when it comes on.

To hell I will be damned. - T

michele pumps up the volume:

A Friday song. You hit the parking lot running after work, get in your car and pump up the volume. Put this on:

Fu Manchu The Action is Go

Take off the work ID. Kick off the shoes. Well, maybe that’s just me. I like to drive home in my socks sometimes. Something about taking off those hellacious heels I wear to work that feels good. Think about getting home to my Converse. And If I’m feeling really in “Fuck You, It’s Friday” mode, I take the bra off, too. Throw it on the floor of the car next the shoes and the ID and peel out of the parking lot without looking back. It’s Friday. Fast food night. No cooking. No cleaning. Time to go home and put on the weekend outfit. Jeans. Wife beater. Zip up sweatshirt. Converse. Just thinking about that on the way home, about getting out of these damn work clothes and getting rid of this week. Playing the same song again and again. The bass shaking the rear view mirror and vibrating my ass. Come back to life I see... Hell yea. Dead at work all week, but when Friday comes it’s new life. Re energize and face the weekend. I mean, it’s not like I go out and party. I barely leave my house. It’s just the point. Home. Sneakers. I don’t even have to shower if I don’t want to. And I don’t have to wear the stupid heels. I hate shoes. Hate em. Sneakers = weekend. Sneakers = sleeping late, goofing off, being lazy, feet up on the coffee table playing video games. I play the song again when I get in the house, as I undress, get into the weekend clothes and the Converse. Kick back. Come back to life.

Like I said, like I said, like I said..........

So what's your weekend song? What do you put on when you want to get work out of your mind and get started on your Friday night? And don't say Workin' For the Weekend. Or we'll laugh at you.