my slightly off life

hey y'all what is up? you cant answer that! muhaha all part of my evil plan! actually no it's not but i can say it is muhaha so tonite there was a great show! i saw all these cool bands like sf firehydrant, almost cool, finster, tcwk, coming clean and gi the only band i didnt get to see were the twirpentines...but i was lucky that i saw any of the bands. im grounded for a month so i was lucky that i could go. omg beaver was there as in erin's ex and well it's bad but i think im developing a crush on him, but that may not be true i was just using him so that dom would see that i have moved on...not like making out in front of him..dear lord no..but i would just be near him the whole nite...damn it!!! oh guess what he told kat last night???? that he loves me! dom not beav...but omg WTF!! we went out for 7 fricken days!! love doesnt develop i dont believe in love a first site only attraction and hey im not that lovable!!! i just wish he would get over me life would be so much easier!!! grrr im so tired i cant write any more! much love!

Brother: (reading from Book of Armaments): And Saint Attila raised the hand grenade up on high, saying, 'O Lord, bless this Thy hand grenade that, with it, Thou mayest blow Thine enemies to tiny bits in Thy mercy.' And the Lord did grin, and the people did feast upon the lambs and sloths and carp and anchovies and orangutans and breakfast cereals and fruit bats and large chu--
Brother Maynard (Eric Idle): Skip a bit, Brother...
Brother: And the Lord spake, saying, "First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin, then shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shalt be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shalt be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thou foe, who being naughty in My sight, shall snuff it.
Brother Maynard: Amen.
King Arthur (Graham Chapman): Right

Steveo: The fight: what dies it mean and where does it come from? An essay. Homo Sapian -- a man. He is alone in the universe. A punker, still a man, he is alone in the universe, but he connects. How? They hit each other. Ooo. No clear way to tell if you're alive. Now, complications. A reason to fight...somebody different. Difference creates dispute, dispute is a reason to feel pain. Life is pain. So to fight, with reason, is to be alive, with reason. Final analysis: to fight, a reason to live. Problems and contradictions: I am an anarchist. I believe there should be no rules, only chaos. Fighting appears to be chaos. And when we slam the pit, it shows it is. When we fight for a reason, like rednecks, we fight for what we stand for: chaos. But fighting is a structure. Fighting is to establish power, power is government, and government is not anarchy. Government is war, and war is fighting. The circle goes like this: Our redneck scrimmages are cheaper versions of conventional warfare. War implies extreme government, because wars are fought to enforce rules or ideals, even freedom, but other people's ideals forced on someone else, even something like freedom, is still a rule, not anarchy. This contradiction is becoming clear to me in the fall of '85. Even as early as my first party, why did I love to fight? I framed it, but I still, I don't understand it. It goes against my beliefs as a true anarchist. But, there it was: competition, fighting, capitalism, government, the system. It's what we did, it's what we always do. Rednecks kicked the shit out of punks, punks kicked the shit out of mods, mods kicked the shit out of skinheads, skinheads kicked the shit out of heavy metalers, heavy metalers kicked the shit out of new wavers, and the new wavers did nothing, they were the new hippies. What was the point? Final summation? None

Stevo: Sure there's a lot more punks than there was four years earlier, but there was also as many poseurs. Poseurs were people that looked like punks, but they did it for fashion. And they were fools. They would say "anarchy in the UK," you see, poseurs. "anarchy in the UK," what the fuck is that? What good is that to those of us in Utah, America? It was a Sex Pistol thing. They were from England, they were British, that's what they did. They were allowed to go on about anarchy in the UK. You dont live your life by lyrics.
I mean that's all you ever heard from these trendy fucks. Like uh, did you hear the new Smiths album? It's fucking terif. Kids walkin' around Utah sayin' 'terif' with a stupid little English twang. See what I mean. (points to a jacket) What the fucks up with the English bullshit? Yeah, I knew a girl who would only have sex with a guy if he only had a fuckin' accent. Can you think of anything more ludicrous in your life? Cuz every asshole in Salt lake City, and let me tell ya, plenty of assholes in this general region that wanna do a little a this will get her drunk and put on some kinda stupid fuckin' accent like, 'hey mistress d'ya fancy a shag?' Then she would, fuckin' knees to the sky, which was sad, it made me really sad, poor girl had no self-respect. See to me, England was nothing more than a big fuckin' American state like North Dakota or Canada. You gotta look at me and you gotta say, hey buddy, why are you so mad and I'll tell ya, cuz for all the following that went over to the English bands from the SLC. Those fuckin English chaps can only say shit about us Americans, all we were to them was a bunch of hicks. Well you know what, I'm not a fuckin' hick. I don't wear cowboy boots, I hate the fuckin rodeo, horses smell like shit to me, and I never fuck anyone in my own bloodline. By definition I am not a redneck and goddammit I ain't no fuckin' hick. Oh the sun never sets on the British empire, well the sun never sets on my asshole.
Another thing that pisses me off, talking about who started punk rock music. Was it the Sex Pistols in england, was it the Ramones and the Velvet Underground in New York? It was the Ramones, it was the Sex Pistols. Who cares who started it, it's music. I don't know who started it, I don't give a fuck. The one thing I do know is that we did it harder, we did faster, and we definitely did it with more love. You can't take that away from us.







Stevo: Whoa, time out. I just wanna ask you real quick, if I can. You believe in rebellion, freedom, and love, right. You two are divorced, so love failed. Two, Mom, you're clinging to any kinda scrap of Eastern religion that can justify why the above said love failed. Three, Dad, you're a slick, corporate, preppy-ass lawyer, I don't really have to say anything else about you, do I, Dad? Four, we move from New York City, the mecca and hub of the cultural world to Utah, nowhere, to change nothing, more to perpetuate the cycle of money, greed, facism, and triviality when your movement of the people, by the people and for the people got you nothing. You just hide behind your lost sense of sex, drugs, rock n roll. Ooh, kum-bye-ya. I am the future. I am the future of this great nation which you father so arrogantly saved this father for. Look, I have my own agenda. Harvard, out. University of Utah in. Im gonna get a 4.0 in damage. I love you guys, don't get me wrong. It's all about this. But for the first time in my life, I'm 18 and I can say, fuck you.

Odd One Out

She is no longer the girl we all loved
She has become a fragment of what she once was
Her smile is hollow, her eyes and cheeks too
Her eyes no longer have that sparkle that grew and grew

Behind her smile she hides rivers of tears
That she cries every night
She feels the pain in her heart
Like a million knives stabbing her as she breathes

Her world is a blur it all goes by too fast
The affect life takes on her is dizzying
No one seems to notice her salt burned face
They’re too busy thinking about themselves; selfish conceited snobs!

She fears what she doesn’t know
Her list of fears is endless
She longs for love and acceptance
While she is glanced at and ignored

Her handful of friends don’t know her pain
Because she hides it all inside
But you can tell her will has been broken
By the thieves and liars of her youth

She’s paranoid that they will find out her pain
Foolish stupid girl they already know
Eyes can tell no lies
And hers are like an open book

She wonders what it would be like if her life were different
Could she be voted most popular?
Would she have it all and still want more?
She starting to think any life would be better than the one she owns


She tries to remember other people hurt too
Not just her alone
But all she remembers is that her life is empty
And all she wants is something to fill it in with

She’s getting tired of being the odd one out
She’s frustrated by the lack of respect
For her, and for anybody whose has ever been ignored
She’s finally taking her feelings out of where she hid them

She slowly realizes that her life is hers to live
No one can take that away from her, she eventually understands
That the actions she takes today
Will plan her future of tomorrow

The Monster: I said put that man down! (They do; the Creature rises to his feet and walks towards his creator and the angry villagers)
Kemp (Kenneth Mars): Und just who do you think you are that you order these people about?
The Monster: I am the monster!
Kemp: Ja, I can see that you are the monster.
The Monster: As long as I can remember, people have hated me. They looked at my face and my body...and they ran away in horror. And in my loneliness, I decided that if I could not inspire love...which was my deepest hope...I would instead cause fear! I live...because this poor half-crazed genius has given me life. He alone held an image of me as something beautiful. And then, when it would have been easy enough to stay out of danger, he used his own body as a guinea pig to give me a calmer brain...and a somewhat more sophisicated way of expressing myself.
Kemp: Well, this is, of course, an entirely different situation. As leader of this community, may I be the first to offer you my hand in friendship.
(They shake, the assembled villagers applaud)
The Monster: Thank you.
Kemp: You are entirely welcome. Now let's all go to my house for a little sponge cake und a little wine und --(his wooden hand pops off from the Monster's grip) Oh, shit! (examines it) To the lumberyard!