FUKK: How Sadistik Exekution Helped Me Survive Hurricane Irma

As most of my readers know by this point, I as your ranting loud-mouth blogger, reside in Central Florida. Which means for the past 2 weeks I and everyone around me have been dealing with the now historic Category 5 Hurricane Irma. Which means my neck of the woods got slammed pretty good by the time that bitch went down to a Cat 1. But before I go any further….lemme back up a week and go about how Floridians actually got shook by this bitch of a hurricane.

A couple of weeks ago, I was a mere mild-mannered recently-engaged blogger who is currently working both part-time as a custodian in a Youfit Gym in Brandon, Fl while at home I talk about jamz and look for any opportunity as a contributing free lance writer to anyone willing to take a gamble with my big mouth. I had also dealt with coming back from an appointment at my nearest VA hospital in Tampa which I was told I would be going in for to remove a rather literal pain-in-the-ass cyst removal via surgery. My doctor was nice enough to give me a nice-sized bottle of Percocet which means I’ve probably been buzzed/high since then. On September the 4th, Florida State Governor and cancer patient/Valdemort-looking bitch, Rick Scott, declared state of emergency and told everyone to start getting the fukk out of Florida? My initial reaction was usual in typical Me-fashion whenever that cancerous-looking bitch opens his mouth:

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
:NOTE: Was not wearing bullet belt when first heard about State Of Emergency btw 

Seeing how for the past 12-13 years Florida has not had one serious hurricane, I wasn’t immediately fretting. That was until my fiancee gave me that worried look and she told me to look on the local news. I saw with my own eyes that it was a Category 5 and 400 miles in diameter. My first thought that popped into my dazed and dank mind was “Yeah dude you might want to listen to her.” So I said to her “Ok, let’s keep our eyes on the news and track this sucker and see how bad it gets.” To give you a cliff note version of the next few days….it’s steadily went from bad to worst. Gas Stations begin raising and gouging their prices to just now there being absolutely no gas what-so-ever. Didn’t even bother looking for bottled water. Flashlights were another rare commodity as well as food and duct-tape. But the worst aspect of the total experience was seeing people good into panic-mode while they are on the road behind the wheel.

y_927b3e2c
TFW PEOPLE ARE MANIAKKS ON THE ROAD

Yesterday I did managed to stop by a couple spots and scavenge some much-needed supplies, so that made me feel rather confident that I could hunker down and ride this sucker out. But, what about jamz? If the power goes out….what would I do without music to listen to??? Then it hit me: LISTEN TO SADISTIK FUKKING EXEKUTION AND TELL THAT FUKKING KUNT OF A HURRIKANE TO GO FUKK ITSELF. FUKKING KUNT!!!! What better band to blast during a chaotic Category 5 Hurricane than the equally destructive and kaotic Sadistik Exekution?!?!?!?! The perfect plan….ok outside of actually listening to my fiancee and putting down the awnings and shit, but riding out a hurricane with Percocet in my system and blasting the almighty Aussies? FUKK YEZZZ!!!

sad-ex-band-colour
FUKKING KUNTS! FUKK!!

It all made perfect sense to me. Their music is about as loud as a hurricane. And just overall a giant mess to deal with so I said “Fukk it. I’m going to go listen to their entire discography as a way to pass the time.” I had been slightly pinged due to the chaos of everyone running outside like chickens with their heads cut off so I put on their first album “The Magus” to start the process.

On top of listening to jamz by the mentally-deranged Aussies, I started to become a bit fukked in the head myself so then I decided to do something really fukked and go outside during the hurricane and taunt hurricane Irma in typical Florida Man style!

IMG_2826.JPG
Yes, that is me you’re favorite online ranting loudmouth redneck from Florida telling Hurricane Irma to go fukk itself. Btw, I was completely sober when I did this, believe it or not.

After some hours went by the winds picked up even more until the wall of the hurricane started plowing through my neck of the woods. The electricity went out and I had to start lighting candles in my house. The winds were blowing so hard that it blew my front door open about 4 or 5 times through the night. And the sheer NOIZE of those winds. Lemme tell ya, Hurricane Irma was putting up a good fight outside. On top of all this and the door being blown open and me having to hold the door closed by the handle, I was getting a bit tense. I won’t lie about that. So then I remembered “Oh shit I have a bottle of good high-grade Oxycodone on the table. I WILL NOT DIE SOBER!.” So I rushed over to the table and popped a few Percs to keep me calm during the hurricane. While doing so, the door blew open again. This KUNT meant serious business.

This is basically Hurricane Irma summed up in one song

Time passes by and I started feeling the effects of those Percocet. After the eye of the wall passed over my house and things began to quiet down outside, I started getting rather drowsy and decided to crash on my couch. A few hours later I woke up at the crack of dawn, blurry eyed and groggy and my fiancee and I opening up our front door to gauge the damage done. Here’s what a merely simple Category 1 Hurricane can do to your surroundings when you piss it off enough.

IMG_2829
DON’T COME TO FLORIDA BTW.

IMG_2828
Now I gotta clean this shit up. FUKK!

Now that I’ve given you a nice little visual of what it’s like to deal with a Florida hurricane. Imagine all of this destruction plus on top of having NO electricity. NO wifi. And worst of all; NO air-conditioning meaning I’m sweating my hairy ass off 24/7 and even when I tried to catch a few hours of sleep at night. My fiancee and I stayed at my house a good 2 or 3 days before I looked at her and said “We’re getting a hotel room.” Which we had to because I had cyst surgery to be done the next day and keep my wound clean and disinfected. It was an ironic musing twist that I have to go through all that hurricane shit  just to put under the knife and get massively doped-up in the hospital, but goddamn was it worth it. After coming out of surgery and be given pain medication to take with me and having the week off from work, I basically went back to my hotel room I was staying at with my sweet-heart and proceeded to do the ONLY thing I could physically do at that time: GET FUKKED UP!!!


NEVER STOPP THE FUKKING MADNESS!!!!

But the story doesn’t quite end there. The following few days I learned that an out-of-state contracted electrician damn near started an electrical fire to my house which completely fried my meter box. Dealing with that and having to get a hold of my local city’s actual electrician only to be told “You need a private electrician/contractor to replace your meter box, weather mane and weather head.” Well that put a damper on my quest to come back home from the hotel. Somehow, someway, my fiancee and I managed to do so and restore electricity and A/C back into my 1950’s concrete bunker-built house. I’m just happy I can say that I can now officially get chill in my own living room while typing this.

If this story sounds a bit like somewhere between “Wolf On Wall Street” and “True Detective” in the level of insanity, drugs, and all-around destructive force of mother nature then yeah you would be right. Life itself is generally chaotic, especially mine. If anything I learned from Sadistik Exekution and this damn hurricane is that at 34 years of age I’ve grown to accept it. Because I live in Florida and I am a certified Florida Man and quite honestly….I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t know what fucking normal is or how to deal with it. So until the next completely FUKKED moment happens in my life as a Floridian, I’ll simply leave you all with a nice hearty McConaughey-esque “Alright, alright, alright” gesture.

P.S. Stay away from Florida. Don’t come down here.

Advertisements

True Black Metal Fan Born in 1995 Defends The Past From The Mainstream In 2017

Lord Asmodeous The Infernal One (a.k.a Colin Page) was in his bathroom at his parent’s house staring into the mirror and applying his mock Abbath corpse paint to his face. He had been saving up all of his minimum wage money for this month’s Slayer/Lamb of God/Behemoth show taking place in Orlando. He was super-excited, but not because he really wanted to see the bands. He was intent on finally finding his Dark Queen once and for all. Since graduating from Altamonte Springs High School three years ago, he had vowed to fully integrate himself into the Florida Metal scene and to do that he not only had to lock down his dream-scream-queen, but he had to prove himself unto his lady that he was the blackest of the black- by boring her to fucking death and completely defeating his chances of even getting a handjob (even a half-hearted sloppy one).

11094459_1634342196800320_803712545_n
I hope my Mom doesn’t walk in on me while I am trying to perfect my salute to the gods of rock n roll!!! All hail Norsk Arisk Black Metal!!!!

Finishing his Gorgoroth-inspired corpse paint (they all look the same anyway, don’t they?), Colin picked-up his phone to double check the time. He still had a few hours before he had to leave for the concert venue, so he would chill momentarily in his bedroom by going onto Youtube and seeking out posers who were not True Norsk Black Metal who might be commenting on his favorite clips of Xasthur‘s “Portal Of Sorrow” album. Almost every comment he read made his blood boil. One particular comment made him fly into a such a massive nerd-fury that it triggered him severely.

I just got into this music and I am loving it!” – BlondeWhitney03

It was a poser! Why did this insignificant worm crawl it’s way onto his internet turf? He would show this wimp a thing or two with all of the knowledge he had accumulated ever since he stopped listening to Deafheaven 5 years ago. He replied to the comment under his Youtube handle, the handle inspired by his first listen of Emperor‘s “In the Nightshade Eclipse” 4 years ago. The dark day spewed forth his brutality.

OMG, I’ve been into this band for 3 years now and I can tell you that this music isn’t even for you. Do you know anything else about black metal? Do you even Burzum bro? Are you even suicidal? Go back and listen to your Five Finger Death Punch!!!” – ThyCosmicMurderOfTheUnborn

He clicked the reply button and Colin felt a hulking sense of superiority.  He scrolled down the page further to find a comment that made him feel completely dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe this THING was happening.

Soooo did you hear that they are making a Lords Of Chaos movie?” – FallenAngelofDarkness666

Eyes twitching, pulse racing, hands sweaty. The pangs of nausea hit him all at once. The Jewish mainstream had infiltrated just like Varg Virkenes had said in last month’s vlog video. Colin was trying to come to terms with this heed of warning and having a hard time believing. His white anglo saxon family of upper middle class had no history of raising him to even think or consider such views, but that didn’t matter. The mainstream was exploiting his favorite form of music in the worst way possible. He had to take action.

I promise to go directly to Hollywood and burn down the studios that are making this film. It’s going to do nothing but invite posers and hipsters into black metal. The last thing the true cult needs is to have it exploited and put into Hot Topic stores! Black Metal was NEVER meant to be mainstream and these trendy turds are trying to do just THAT! The jewish media wishes nothing but to contaminate the black metal underground with it’s filth! Who else shall ride forth with me on my steed that is named Despair to desecrate their studios as a way to let them know that black metal means serious fucking business?!?!? Let us all be rid of these fucking posers who do nothing for black metal! When I was 15 I was already into black metal, fuck this poser generation!!!

Breathing heavily with massive anxiety and extra-dramatic emotions running through him, Colin checked the clock. He had to leave so that he could mingle with all the hot single ladies in the crowd. He adorned his spiked gauntlets he got off Ebay from MetalDevastation’s Ebay store, inverted cross necklace, and spiked collar that he got from Wal-Mart that was meant to be put on a Rottweiler. The last bit of attire for the evening was his spiked denim vest with a Marduk logo pack patch on it. He hopped into his Toyota Prius (grad gift from good ol’ Mom and Dad), and blasted Dark Funeral‘s “Diabolis Interium” from the speakers. It chilled his blood, still quite heated from the poser scum he was dealing with today. By the time he would arrive at the concert, he would be the unofficial spokesman for TRUE Norweigian Black Metal and be the gatekeeper to it’s secrets of the dark arts.

Upon arriving at The Beacham Theater, he saw the line was already moving into the venue. From a distance he could see a few females that looked liked prime prospects to woo over with his vast knowledge of black metal. He slowly made his way up to security and was forced to basically strip down every bit of his black metal garb. Forcing the line to be held up by an additional 30 minutes, he ended up pissing off all the Mountain Dew-smelling redneck Lamb Of God fans and aging edgy Slayer fans with mullets. There was one female who burst out laughing.  She still held a petite figure in her age and was wearing a Grand Belial’s Key shirt and denim jeans. She was watching while sitting at the bar with a friend. Her chubby/curvy younger friend was only a couple years younger, wearing a skimpy Perverted Ceremony shirt that she had crafted into a skirt while wearing a black denim vest covered in band patches by Der Sturmer, Profanatica and Bestial Mockery. Colin knew he had found the ONLY two human beings in an entire fucking crowd fit to socialize with. He adopted his gentleman-like and “nice guy” traits and offered to purchase the two ladies drinks. After introducing himself as Lord Asmodeous The Infernal One to the one he had his particular eyes on, it went all fucking downhill.

I like black metal too. You like Behemoth? I read ‘Lords of Chaos’ three whole years ago. Burzum is cool but have you heard Nokturnal Mortum? Probably not, they’re Ukrainian and hella underground. Check out this cool band I just found, Deathspell Omega.

She just stared at him. Internally screaming out to God -only she knew damn well he wouldn’t hear the cries for help.

Here’s a clip of me playing my Flying V shirtless in my parent’s garage, it’s a Death cover. RIP Chuck.” He flipped thru his photos on his Iphone that had a Watain phone case on it.

That’s cool. I guess.” She was beyond unimpressed. This motherfucker was boring her to tears and was making her drier than the Sahara desert. After about 30 minutes of completely sperging out and making himself out to be an obnoxious twat, the two ladies kept spacing themselves away from the dude and made it known that they were tired of listening to his entire self-absorbed personality. They would simply go have fun elsewhere at the show while completely avoiding eye contact and interaction with this try-hard for the rest of the night.

For the rest of the show, Colin stood at the very back of the crowd and crossed his arms in true contemptuous stance. This had been the 27th show he had gone to in the past 3 years and the same thing happened every single time. He was pissed and whenever he got back home, he would channel all of his satanic fury into writing music that sounded like a terrible version of Ancient‘s “Mad Grandiose Bloodfiends” (minus the vampires and keyboards). He had decided long ago that keyboards are for pussies and not metal at all.

tumblr_nemlz9XKpu1qlvv46o1_250
“NO SUBSTITUES ACCEPTED! I MUST FIND MY DARK QUEEN TO PERFORM GOAT-WORSHIPPING RITUALS OF DECADENCE WITH!!!”

47 Year Old Metal Fan Living In Tampa Is Still An Overgrown Edgy 16 year Old!

metaldouchebag

So there he was. Mr. Dave Warner woke up with his lower back aching on his sagging Serta mattress and prepared to face another day of the miserable life he had created for himself.  He’d always installed himself as the life of the party, but the party was catching up with him. Next month would be his 47th birthday but he was sputtering on fumes just to get there. He woke up in the usual Debbie downer style that he was accustomed to- reaching for likes on social media with self loathing posts. Afterward, he would start by self-medicating with a 24 pack of Natty Ice, then pick up some weed, take a trip to the local dive bar where he might get a few bumps of coke off the local crystal meth dealer in a bathroom, possibly make an ass of himself, and, if he made it home, pass out on the couch.

He rolled his morbidly obese body out of bed and moved sluggishly through the house, gasping for air.  He hobbled over to the kitchen table to take all the medications that he was prescribed. The Prozac and Xanax kept him from falling back into depression. Rounding out his dailies were Metformin for the diabetes, the Lyrica for diabetic nerve pain in his swollen feet,  Prednisone for psoriasis and the Albuterol inhaler to manage the out of control asthma and COPD. He also indulged in  Oxycontin, what with the bulging slipped disc in his lumbar region of the spine spawned from years of not exercising and carrying a mass of weight on his pint-sized frame. Last but not least, he relied on his hormone therapy regimen and thyroid meds to help with his unusually low T levels. With a 5’1″ frame carrying 375 lbs, he had carefully crafted a BMI that would make most physicians eyes go blind upon first sight. He used to be the out-of-control ‘party’ dude and the ‘wild and crazy’ guy who was a ‘rock n roll rebel’. He always said he was going to “shake shit up” with his band Death Wizard. Death Wizard had only played three shows in their entire 15 years of existence, but he still considered the band and his boys his life’s work. These days he was so terribly out of shape that every other week he was convinced he was dying and became a regular fixture at the Emergency Room. Through Medicaid he was able to get the medicine that he needed to prolong his miserable and partying lifestyle.

Dave always knew it was just a matter of time before he found the “right people” to jam with. He was going to get his dream of being famous off the ground and running . He fantasized about sharing the stage with Slayer and Morbid Angel. He wanted Evangelical Christians protesting outside of his shows the way he had seen them protest outside of the Genitorturers show in Tampa in 1995. He imagined going onto the Jerry Springer Show during daytime television and saying outrageous stuff like “GG Allin is God!” and that he “worshiped the altar of rock n roll!!!” while quoting lyrics by The Mentors and Gardy-Loo in a complete manic-like state. He just wanted to get back at all the rednecks and jocks who had made his life hell in high school. He needed to make every girl that turned him down and told him to fuck off regret that they decided to go with healthy, fully functioning guys who had stable careers and made them feel secure. He had to turn the clocks back to keep the party and zany antics going on forever. More than anything, he dreamed of being the dude that NOBODY could tell what to do – he should do whatever he wanted whenever his young heart pleased, even if his heart was beyond clogged and at risk for a heart attack.

It seemed like those dreams were still far away. All he really needed was the right people. Those right people did not include his now retired parents who had owned the same house for the past 40 years. Dave still remembered the day he moved into that house. He was 13 with a head full of hair and a “Mom’s Special” bowl cut that touched the tips of his ears. He remembers wearing a Motley CrueShout At The Devil” tour shirt that he copped from a friend who, let’s face it,  was a fucking poser. Those right people didn’t include his one girlfriend from 15 years ago that he was still brooding over. That break-up was the one which he contributed his years of hard partying and constant self-medication to. Those right people didn’t include his son who was supporting himself and his wife as a plumber and who was planning for a family of his own. He rarely talked to his wife who ringed his ass financially through the past 15 years of child support. Those right people didn’t include his brother who was about to retire from the Air Force with full VA benefits. In fact all the right people didn’t include ANYONE that actually knew him, which was 4 people total. They had all more or less given up on him after numerous attempts to get him the help he needed to get him into a better state of living. Oh sure, he attended the local Everest University located off Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd for computer programming . He proclaimed at age 42 that programming was his passion in life. He thought it was the sure-fire way to get everyone to respect him again and to also get them off his back. He was just trying to bide time. Outside of his failed attempt at trying to have a career in computer programming, his time was well-spent smoking pot, drinking Jaeger and blasting Slayer all hours of the night so that he could piss-off who he referred to as his “faggot” Christian neighbors. Time was well spent making lists of all he wanted to do with Death Wizard. To solidify his commitment, he even went to a local tattoo shop and got a huge anarchy symbol tattooed on his right shoulder. The tattoo artist welched him a good $300 for it and claimed it was a great price. He had never gotten any tattoos before. He did consider getting a barbed wire tattoo around his leg as a way of showing people he was not to be messed with for a whopping $500 price tag. He was still deciding on whether to get that one or not.

He just looked back on this and wondered -where did all the good times go? Fuck it. Today he was going to ‘live it up’ and continue those good times. To hell with the ‘man’!

He started off his productive day by updating the same profile photo on FB that he originally used 5 years ago and posted it three times in a row. Then he posted a status update of  himself- “Tired of being single and feeling that no woman ever wants me”. About an hour later he posted another status update and talked about doing nothing but wanting to “have sex and fuck all the hot young college sluts.” The third status update came an hour later -“Man, I wanna rock n roll all night and party everyday, but I don’t want to listen to faggot disco music and sell-out!” Only two likes for each, but those were from people he called “friends”  he met on the Plenty Of Fish dating website. Two of those friends were females who he had briefly chatted with on the dating website and had long since found mentally and financially stable boyfriends and husbands. 30 minutes after the third post, he updated his status again a fourth time stating how much he hated Republicans and cursed Donald Trump’s name and screamed about how he was going to be stripped of his entitled American benefits. He looked at his Casio wrist watch and then started to get ready for work. He just started working at Burger King two weeks ago but his health made him feel so out of shape. He called into work and when his manager told him he was getting fired, Dave was triggered in thinking it was another person telling him what to do with his life. “YOU’RE A FUCKING ASSHOLE! I HOPE SATAN BUTTFUCKS YOU AND RAPES YOUR WIFE AND FORCE FEEDS YOUR CHILDREN TO EAT SHIT!!!”  He slammed the phone down on the plastic Ikea table. He got up and proceeded to slip on a Slayer shirt he purchased at Hot Topic back in 2005 and put on his baggy, dirty Jnco denim shorts that he found for $5 at a local Salvation Army store- they smelled like senior citizens and moth balls. He put on white socks that came up to his calves and slipped on a pair of shabby all-white New Balance shoes his brother got for him from Sears for his last birthday. He wobbled out of his roach-infested trailer and hobbled over to his beat-up 1992 Dodge Neon. He bought the car for $400 from some alcoholic from the neighboring trailer park last year. He was told it was in “excellent shape” but he was now the proud owner of a car with no air conditioning and an oil leak. Already out of breath, he sat down in the broken driver’s seat, pulled out the Metro PCS LG phone that his parents bought for him and did a Facebook live stream. He told everyone about Death Wizard getting back together for the umpteenth time. He would tell everyone like twice a month but everyone knew he was just saying it for attention.

The music was “going to be a bit on the heavy metal side. Not like that faggot disco music or anything posers listen to.Death Wizard was all that he dreamed about. Outside of Death Wizard, he sang in a band called Dickbutt who sang about “fucking sluts in their butts”. It was nothing more than a crappy Punk band that sounded like a lazy Sex Pistols cover band. Sex Pistols, NOFX, and Rancid were the extent of what he knew about Punk music. He always thought that punk rock music was for posers. As far as Death Wizard went, the music was described as a “heavy as hell metal band”. It was nothing more than an atrocious Metallica/Slayer mish-mash of completely uninspired riffs and nights of partying and drinking Natty Ice from the local Marathon gas station. Song titles include  “You Fucked Us Up,” “I Get High,” “Dick In My Hand,” “You Don’t Know Fucking Shit,” “Fuck Your Goddamn,” “Bullshit I’ve Dealt With In My Life” and the little ditty about ‘fucking sluts up their butts’ which he was still trying to give an appropriate title to. He was a local legend and important to the Tampa Bay metal scene in his own mind. He had tried to attract a local musician who was in some semi-famous death metal band from the 90’s, but after the gentleman dealt with Dave’s shit for about two weeks he gave up. He saw Dave as just another white trash loser douchebag from one of the various trailer parks in the area and made fun of him whenever he updated his status on Facebook.

Man, I really can’t stand some people. Those that tell you what to do with your life. Those that try and think they know what is best with you and all they do is hold you back“, he slurred through his live post for fifteen minutes. He put his cell phone in the corn-syrup stained middle console drink holder and drove over to another trailer park a few minutes away from his. He pulled up to a mildew stained double-wide that was similar looking to his own. He met some guy that he drove from the county jail two weeks ago. The guy had hitched a ride from him outside of a Circle-K at 4:00 am. In return for the ride post-central processing, the shady-looking guy promised to sell him the best weed he could find in all of central Florida. Dave KNEW that smoking weed was the best way to control his fluctuating mood swings and daily bouts of depression. He handed Shady Guy the money and the guy said “We’ll smoke this shit at the bar dude!” He was broke and his rent was due 3 days from now. It didn’t matter because they would be off to the local bar where he would try and mingle with all the females and tell them how he was a musician. Tell them about Death Wizard. He was going to continue to have good times that night. It was also karaoke night at the bar so he decided to sing Slayer‘s “Raining Blood” and dedicate it to “all the faggot ass posers and stupid Christians” in the crowd but not before telling everyone to kiss his ass. He thought this was a way he could build an audience for Death Wizard when he would hit it big on Earache Records and brace them for the oncoming storm of the return of, in his own words, REAL hard rockin’ metal! Shock and Awe! After he drunkenly and barely slurred his way through the song he went back to try and mingle with the females in the bar but they wanted nothing to do with him. He got so furious that they didn’t want to know the local legend that was Dave Warner.  THE legendary Dave Warner who years ago walked through the same bar proclaiming that nobody knew what REAL black metal was while wearing a Cradle of Filth shirt- the one with “Jesus Is A Cunt” on the back. THE legendary Dave Warner who would have profound conversations about how Jesus didn’t exist and that Satanism was a better religion. THE super-legendary Dave Warner who claimed that he did coke with Pete Sandoval of Morbid Angel in Ybor City while giving him his 3-song CDR demo that he burnt off his Dell Computer he got in 2003 by using Limewire. THE super special snowflake Dave Warner who one night while getting drunk vowed that he would never sacrifice his artistic credibility and ‘sell-out like Metallica by cutting their long hair.’ How dare the local denizens of HIS stomping ground not know the hulking mass of flesh that struck terror in the eyes of mere mortals of whosoever even made eye contact with this pint-sized wobbling weeble of screwed-up metabolism, thinning-out long hair, and a fucked-up grill that he received from smashing a microphone in his mouth while doing a Dickbutt concert at the same bar he was currently located at? How dare they deny him of getting laid even though he had extremely low testosterone from years of drinking shitty Natty Ice and smoking crappy fucking ragweed??  He was FURIOUS and would let everyone know the next day on Facebook. The night ended with him getting kicked out of the bar for being an asshole to all the females. His buddy that tagged along with him stayed behind and went home with some methed-out female in her late 30’s.

The next morning he woke-up on the couch. he didn’t remember how he got there. He looked outside and saw his beat-up ’92 Dodge Neon parked on the lawn. He slowly walked over to his PC and made another Facebook status.

Everyone in Tampa can kiss my fucking ass! Nobody is real and wants to stir shit up. I’m going to do what I’ve always wanted and write a book about a homicidal maniac who fucks sluts and then stabs them with his long-ass dick like a fucking spear-chucker! This dude is going to murder all of those rappers and their bitches and hoes and plastic money! All they talk about is their bitches and how much money they got! They don’t talk about REAL shit, man!

It got 2 likes from the same people the previous day. A fellow dude he didn’t know from Nevada who was 45 years old commented on how Dave “finally someone had the courage to say what needed to be said ages ago! Rap stands for Retards Attempting Poetry!” Dave Warner then updated his same profile pic from 5 years ago again and then turned away from his aging PC and proceeded to take all of his medications prescribed to prolong his life. After taking everything, he thought…

Man…where did all the good times go?

 

17016595_10208764749660503_1035166773_o

(slow heavy metal music playing) 

Female who immerses herself in the black metal scene finds that it’s more than what she bargained for

5 years ago (Actually 2 years ago due to conflicting Facebook posts and what she tells people at concerts), on-again/off-again Metal fan Shelby Wingate who goes by the Facebook name of Shelby “Satanicon” Windir and the Instangram handle of WomanOfDarkDesires666  had a MASSIVE turning point in her growing tastes as a fan of Metal. Drawn to by countless documentaries on Youtube, an aging handbook from the late 90’s about some bands from Norway and the shock tactics that haven’t exactly been shocking in 20 years, decided she would jump in the deep end of the pool of the black metal scene only to come to the shocking realization that she doesn’t know how to swim properly.

a5e5d93bfe32c955d23744c1931d60d5
“OMG guys, look at how much of a poser I was. UGH! I look gross af in this pic! My brows look like shit! “

But she didn’t think before she committed herself to this.

She thought it would be cool to do. Trying to impress everyone around her despite the fact that everyone around her couldn’t give a shit less about what music she listens to but in reality actually were a bit taken back from the fact that their friend who 3 years ago had a good IT tech job and really nothing that would make her listen to a rather extreme form of music that promotes core pillars of general negativity, anti-aramaic religious beliefs, even dodgy national socialists symbols. They noticed her over the past couple years she would make FB friends with sketchy males and females who post rather sketchy stuff that flood her FB newsfeed.

96b9c2dcc7cae86c6025820b4d01065ccd705551a588bcfa64953864e8e71467_1

“I can totally date this dude and my Hilary Clinton-supporting friends and family won’t object to him. Nothing out of the normal about him. He’s TOTALLY hawt!!!”

But that didn’t matter.

Shelby thought that if she took the necessary steps to immerse herself, she would be accepted as one of them, part of the cult brethren…even though nothing has exactly been cult since late 2003/2004 when she was then rockin’ out to Slipknot and The Black Dahlia Murder on that particular summer’s Ozzfest. So LAST year she got her very first vinyl player ever and started collecting vinyl. Not actually listening to said vinyl, just ordering, and taking pictures for her Instagram account. She thought she was on the left hand path towards obscurity….even ordering that MGLA shirt off Hells Headbangers, cutting it up and posing in total alternative model form. Complete with Pastel Goth and Kat Von D make-up she adored! Which she got a good number of approximately 1.2K likes and having guys fawn over her push-up bra angle while having numerous hashtags in her IG post which included #lit #faded #evil #blackmetal #hell #norway

14719208_1100626536681908_2194423100764848128_n
Get yo nails done guuurrlll! :pats weave on head:

But it didn’t stop there.

She then took herself to a local tattoo parlor and got a Crowley-esque Thelema star tattoo on her hand and started claiming that she was a feminist but not before she shaved the side of her head in Christy Mack fashion and posts how much she likes Burzum and Forteresse all while agreeing with Invisible Oranges and various other blogs that Black Metal elitists are nothing but hateful, misogynistic, alt-right, neo-nazi, Phil Anselmo fanboy trolls who are just trying to cover that that they are LITERALLY Nazi-sympathizers and OMG actually Trump supporters!

11410416_1652020735015571_509201079_n
Gothic decor and exclusive edgy clothing brought to her by Ikea, Urban Outfitters and Blackcraft Cult.

But it didn’t make her question herself why she was doing all of this.

After moving from state-to-state in hopes of finding her now own tribe of like-minded individuals, she started meeting her FB friends face-to-face IRL at shows. After 4 years, or 2 years, again due to conflicting times she specified the number of years of her trying to convince everyone in hopes of gaining acceptance and kudos, she started realizing that the people she made friends with were not rather socially open or accepting and all-around sketchy and awkward but who cares that some of these people had shaved heads and Norse runes on their leather biker vests? I mean she was TOTALLY into Amon Amarth that one year of college at Berkley, California and she LOVES Nordic culture and would never dare to think of supporting any kind of band that was a NSBM band because how can one listen to an artist and they have opposing views? Right? Right?

But it didn’t end there.

After some time went by, she constantly changed her look to appeal to the next hot dude with a Watain backpatch on his denim jacket even tho she was sending nudes to a chubby fat dude wearing a Der Sturmer baseball cap. She even started to get a stick up her ass towards fellow females in the scene whom she thought she was besties with even though they would never buy her drinks or share their prescriptions of Xanax with. Not that she felt uncomfortable around 6 ft tall dudes that looked like Jef Whitehead or the 5’6 dudes who lifted weights to Black Witchery, she just wanted to party! She didn’t take in the fact that she was immersed in a culture where the majority of her female ‘friends’ (Both online and IRL) had septum piercings and daddy issues…but she could TOTALLY relate to the issues of her fellow females because HER Daddy got her a Toyota Camry instead of a BMW as a college graduation present so she could visit Portland, Oregon to catch that one Archgoat show. That was a very stressful time in her life. She knew she was hot shit so much that she knew in the back of her head that she could out-smart any poser death metal dude who wore Blood Incantation shirts to FIN shows that didn’t know the difference between a random riff off the latest Void Meditation Cult and a blastbeat off the latest Kerasphorus debut. She was ‘cult’ and nobody could tell her otherwise even if said same people had been into this music and lifestyle for the past 10-15 years!

6941e9640ec5d70e4e919eedd9032017
“I absolutely LOVE my new Nyogthablisz backpatch! My brows totally be #fleek! #norway #hell #truenorweigianblackmetal “

That was until before she started pissing everyone off.

She didn’t know how it happened. But all of a sudden she started getting claims and word through the grapevine the she was supposedly stealing the look from fellow females in the current city that she was living in. Goddamnit, she had paid her dues and she was an American! She deserved to be that one bad bitch that every dude fell over, or at least all the guys wearing Revenge beanies who would sex text the same 5 girls in the scene at one time while telling her that she was a “teutonic goddess sent by the ancient gods to eradicate the filth and trend whores from the face of Odin’s earth!” I mean, there WAS that one time she dressed extra slutty and sucked off a dude in the bathroom at Maryland Death Fest while his actual girlfriend was outside watching Mystifier kill it live. Whom she had be admiring because she had a Goatmoon tattoo…even though she didn’t know who the fuck Goatmoon was.

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

And then came her time to stand up for herself on social media and proclaim her realness by typing and posting an elongated declaration of how she wasn’t going to be accepting anymore friends. She had had enough of the falses and trendwhores and fakes and no more was she going to tolerate their double-standard female shaming and their ugly repulsive boyfriends they were defending even though those same dudes she sent nudes to all had various drug and alcohol problems and were relationship-wise severely handicap and completely hindered socially. She declared her as an isolationist in one hand while making it known on Facebook with a status update that got about 63 likes 2 hearts reacts and 5 LOL reacts. No more dramatic lurking scene queens and dudes trying to get vag pics sent to their aging 4S Iphones with the touch screens covered in McDonald’s french-fry grease and powerdery white residue from crushed Roxies who were mutual friends with Blake Judd of Nachtmysitum noteriety on social media. No more would she be accused of stealing another person’s identity! No more would she have to ask or beg for drinks to be bought for her at shows because she was a strong, independent female whom with the help of her West Coast feminist friends assured her that was as black metal as they came. She was standing up to the hatred, misogyny, homophobic, antisemitic, and she declared that she stood with trans people by destroying her copy of “Death Mask” by Lord Mantis and would take it to the front to fight against the trolls that flooded the comments section of the internet.

But not before she purchased the latest Death Worship LP on her Iphone 8 while chillaxin’ in her bed with the latest Amy Schumer Netflix standup playing on her PS4 in a pair of Love Pink sweatpants. She NEEDED that die-hard edition on vinyl, guys!

fortifem+lil+bub
“Let’s do some Black Yoga before going to the Deafheaven concert. I’m going to put on Ghostbath in the background for us to listen to. You can’t appreciate the light without understanding the darkness; Namaste!”

Long-time Death Metal fan from up north moves to Florida…..finds out that it’s NOT 1992 and that it’s REALLY hot.

76488c60d22bc09957da7fbac1241f98
“Hi! I listen to everything from Vital Remains to Vader. Only the most brOOtal bands. None of that poser shit!”

Facebook Status Update: Saturday  June 17, 2013. 9:45 AM

And so begins my southernmost voyage from the confines of my cramped and congested Eastern sea-board town of Hoboken, New Jersey to Tampa, Fl. After years of attending Maryland Death fest in my neighboring state that is no more than a hop-skip-and-a-jump away from me, I will reach one of America’s cultural mecca of DEATH FUCKIN’ METAL! Nay many have tried to tell me not to go there, but I will prove to them beyond a shadow of a doubt that the party is still raging and that Glen Benton of Deicide isn’t an asshole in real life and that it’s all a gimmick for his stage presence. My hopes is to score that sweet colored vinyl of Nocturnus‘s “The Key” at Ace’s Records. Florida or bust!

Facebook Status Update: Sunday June 18, 2013. 2:37 PM 

So I’ve been traveling in the backseat of my parent’s Kia SUV. Currently breaking out the CD book with all of my original pressings of Earache and Roadrunner records that I scored off Ebay from the previous few years after finally not being a poser and wising the fuck up and listened to Death‘s “Spiritual Healing” album. I can finally leave my poser past behind and nobody will ever know of that Suicide Silence shirt I wore for majority of my high school years. Currently somewhere in the northern most point of the state of Georgia. God this place sucks. Hope Tampa is better.

Facebook Status Update: Monday June 19, 2013. 10:00 AM

Had trouble sleeping at the motel the other night. Dad kept snoring while Mom knocked herself out with one of her Xanaxs. I fell asleep while listening to Brutality‘s “When the Sky Turns Black.” We crossed the state line into Florida about 15 minutes ago. Is it really supposed to be this moist and humid this early in the morning? Holy shit, this is unreal!

Facebook Status Update: Monday June 19, 2013. 3:30 PM

Guys it’s REALLY hot. That’s ok, I have a copy of “Choosing Death” to read while my parents and I are stuck in traffic on I-4 near Disneyworld with the A/C on full blast. We’ve been in the same spot for the past 45 minutes. Boning up on my local metal history so that when Tampa is in my sight, I will be one with my metal breatheren and nobody will suspect anything. I will perfectly blend in and be accepted as one of them.

Facebook Status Update: Tuesday June 20, 2013. 12:45 PM 

What was that place between Tampa and Orlando on I-4? I only saw 1 mall in the distance from the interstate. Reminder to myself: don’t go back to that place. Looks boring as fuck. Also my Dad has been screaming the entire time about people either driving too slow, too fast or not using their blinkers. Mom is doubling her Xanax dosage.

Facebook Status Update: Wenesday June 21, 2013. 1:45 AM

After a long day of unpacking the U-Haul, I managed to set-up my stereo system and properly organize my entire CD/Vinyl/Demo collection. Also I re-alphabetized all of my horror VHS/DVD/Blu-Ray collection. The rest of my room is nothing but boxes, but hey….priorities first. Another reminder: stay away from I-4. That thing was a nightmare.

Facebook Status Update: Thursday June 22, 2013. 4:30 PM 

Just got finished un-boxing the rest of my belongings in my room. Most of today was spent helping my Dad in the garage. Is it really supposed to be this damn hot? I drank several Monster Energy Drinks to keep me hydrated.

Facebook Status Update: Friday June 23, 2013. 8:00 AM 

I had to be rushed to the ER early this morning. Doctor said I was completely dehydrated and that I need to start drinking more water. Weird. I’ve never had to drink water before in the summer when I lived in New Jersey. As soon as I get home I am blasting Pestilence‘s “Consuming Impulse” because funny haha and also being dehyrated is brOOtal. Whenever I get back home, I’ll rest up by watching all my Deathocalypse DVDs.

Facebook Status Update: Friday June 30, 2013. 7:45 PM

So I’ve learned that Tampa has a really crappy bus system. I also found out that Ace’s Records hasn’t existed since the mid-90’s. I tried looking for other Metal record stores and they don’t exist. There was one record store called Sound Exchange located off Nebraska Avenue in what locals referred to as ‘the ghetto.’ I dunno. The area is pretty tame. Plus the record store barely had any death metal. WTF?

Facebook Status Update: Friday August 2, 2013. 6:45 PM

So after a couple of months of living here and getting a part-time job at the nearest Circle-K, there hasn’t been 1 single death metal concert to attend to. I see more confederate flags and I think that shit is very racist and negative. One of my local friends whom I have talked to online for the past few years tells me that I need to visit a club called The Brass Mug which isn’t that far away. Some band called Master performed. Never heard of them before. Bet they are a poser band. I tried finding Morrisound Studios only come to find out about a local band called Trans-Siberien Orchestra purchased it and uses it strictly as their recording studio and practice space. WTF? Where do all the death metal bands hang out at? Also, it’s too fucking hot here. I can’t go a single day without feeling like I’m dehydrating. Like I can’t even wear my longsleeve “Individual Thought Pattern” shirt.

Facebook Status Update: Wendsday November 1, 2013. 8:45 PM

FINALLY my first actual Floridian death metal concert. Obituary headlined with 3 local bands all ranging from deathcore to groove metal and a hardcore band. Obituary killed it, but the other bands were a total snooze-fest. No circle pits either. The crowd barely was into it. Just a bunch of kids doing their karate moves. Fucking posers. I tried to talk and converse with some of my fellow metalheads and all of them were either soft-spoken or constantly cracking really sarcastic jokes that all flew right over my head. Most of them were assholes. I saw a LOT of metal hipsters too. A couple of local death metal musicians showed up. The Hoffman brothers of Deicide appeared and I asked them about Glen. They told me to go fuck myself. What the hell?

Facebook Status Update: Thursday November 2, 2013. 11:25 AM

Is it really supposed to be 65 degrees in the morning and supposed to be 87 degrees with humidity by noon? This fucking sucks. I hope the day gets cooler.

Facebook Status Update: Thursday November 2, 2013. 5:30 AM

Still fucking humid outside. I left my part-time job at Circle-K. Got tired of dealing with how crabby and frantic people get here. That’s ok, I start school in Janurary at FSU for IT Network/Technical Support. At least I have that to look forward to. Plus I managed to save up some money that I can blow online. I haven’t found 1 decent record store in the Tampa Bay area. Most of the shit they sell is NOT death metal. It’s all Metallica, Slayer, Pantera, some Iron Maiden, and the occasional Lamb of God vinyl. Screw this, I’ll just stick to ordering music online.

Facebook Status Update : Thursday February 20, 2014. 1:29 PM.

It actually dropped down to 50 degrees today. People around me are bundled up like it’s supposed to snow all while wearing flip-flops, Carhartt hoodies and “Love Pink” sweatpants. I still keep seeing confederate flags on the bumpers of my fellow classmates trucks. WTF? I thought college students were supposed to be against racism by the time they get into college? This is something I think I will never get. They probably don’t even listen to Cannibal Corpse. Posers.

Facebook Status Update: Saturday March 23, 2014. 11:45 PM.

So i decided to see what this whole Florida Spring break was all about. I went to Clearwater beach wearing my DeicideOnce Upon the Cross” shirts I just got in the mail from Hells Headbangers online. I got a lot of weird looks. Thinking I would run into Trey Azagtoth or David Vincent from Morbid Angel while at the beach and unfortunately no luck. Every dude I saw here has skinny arms and a huge beer gut. I did run into this one girl who tried to strike up a conversation with me at this bar near the beach but she was wearing an Avenged Sevenfold shirt and was going on and on and on about Sublime, and Five Finger Death Punch. She was hot, but definitely would NOT smash. She probably has never listened to Hellwitch. The traffic is unbearable and it’s still too fucking hot. I only stayed there for about an hour before I decided to go back home as to not dehydrate again for the 5th time since I’ve moved here. That’s a reoccurring problem.

Facebook Status Update: Sunday June 17 2014. 2:30 PM

I have lived here in Florida for a year now. I can honestly say that this is the barren asshole in the universe that is closest to the fucking sun. Everyday it’s nothing but sweat, dehydrate, sweat, dehydrate, etc. My doctor says that if I don’t stop drinking Monster Energy drinks and change up my diet, I will run into serious health problems. How the fuck are people supposed to work-out in this heat? You’re going to sweat everything off anyway. On top of that, nothing but poser and non-metal bands tour here. I’ve only seen 1 death metal band perform here and the show wasn’t even that great. STRAIGHT UP FUCK THIS HELLHOLE! I wanna go back to New Jersey now!