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Life Is A Loaded Gun
by Michele Christopher
Going to shows back in the eighties was almost a daily routine.
It was so good seeing all these bands back in the day... man I miss those days... things just didn't matter! I grew up poor as hell. I bought all my clothes at thrift stores... except for the occasional BOY of London purchases... of course I usually stole those. I tore up every t-shirt, button down and pair of pants that my parents would buy me until they finally stopped buying them. We drank any alcohol we could get our hands on , usually it was whatever our ‘runner’ would drink. We would go to shows and sneak in through back doors or just hang out in the lots outside. I’d hold my lunch money so I could buy smokes. I fully didn't care.
Now I work like 15 hours a day trying to get as much dough as possible - What boss works that fucking much? My hair... I said before how much I miss my hair. I'll say it again -I miss my hair! I do have to say, I don't miss school. I miss the parties that came from knowing people at school but I don't miss school itself. I remember my parents always saying how much harder the working world will be - WHATEVER! They obviously didn't have my teachers and administration officers! I don't know how it is now but in the eighties if you looked different than the 'norm' they made your life hell.
I don’t wanna sound like the old man chasing kids off his lawn but what do kids have to deal with now? What exactly is different anymore? I have two boys, they’re both pretty young but the bullshit they have to deal with in school is making ME nuts! They don’t seem to care… I guess they really don’t know any different. I see kids all over my neighborhood but none of them look any different than any other kids around –I mean the whole old school Punk look seems to be back but there are tons of those kids around. You can fully stock up in the fucking malls now.
I really can't let it go. Everyone back in the day said that I would eventually stop with all the Punk crap and grow-up. I kinda had to grow-up... I was left with my Mom's apartment when I was 18 - I went from no responsibilities to way too much! My parents were still so wrong; working life is so much easier than school life... Of course now I have to provide and pay bills - and that kinda blows... why the fuck did I put myself into all this? I still don't stop bleaching my thinning hair, I still wear tanker boots to work, I still try to make it to a few shows a year and I still blare hardcore at ungodly levels in my truck.
I know… I’m like a fucking male Peg Bundy right?! Actually more so in that picture… that was 1995 and I was dressed all fucked up. The guy on the right is who I was talking about in last weeks post and the girl in the middle is now my wife.
Despite what he tells you, Tesco still parties like it's 1999.