The Bottle Flip “Challenge” And Other Stupid Trends

Another long, annoying, demeaning year with New York City Department of Education is coming to a close – and not soon enough!  But if there’s one thing I can say without even thinking about it, and this is something I already said to few friends at work, it’s that if there’s one thing that will stand out to me about this past year, it’s this stupid shit.  I apologize in advance for not being able to find any clips under three mintues:

No shit.  This is an actual fad right now and has been since probably before I went back to work.  I remember seeing my idiot seventh graders throwing bottles up in the air in excitement during their recess on day one in September and wondering out loud if these dumb little shits seriously had nothing better to do over the summer but to throw around bottles and see if it lands on either end.

And for the longest time I never understood the point, being left to just assume they all lacked the common sense required to just leave their homes during the day and go hit the basketball courts.  Oh sure, some of my kids explained to me at one point that the game is a “challenge”, but I still didn’t get it.  That is until last night.  I wanted to finally know how this seemingly global “phenomenon”/nuisance to all school teachers everywhere started.  Then I found this link to the video that started it all:

http://fusion.kinja.com/a-teen-flipping-a-water-bottle-may-have-just-created-th-1793857082

Why the fuck wasn’t it obvious to me before??  Of course it was invented by some fuckin’ redneck down south – what the hell is there to do down there anyway?  So, some redneck throws a fucking water bottle on to a desk at a talent show and suddenly it’s now being down in schools EVERYWHERE.  Not only that: I was waiting for my girlfriend to run in the Central Park Spring Classic recently and while waiting I actually saw a GROWN ASS MAN flipping a bottle right in front of me.  Pathetic.   Hell, just look at the bottom video in the above link.  This has actually become outlawed in most schools…unless the school in question is mine because my administration is absolutely SPINELESS.  But that’s a different story.

So in the last nine months I’ve have numerous confrontations with students, sometimes my own, sometimes other kids in the cafeteria, who wouldn’t think twice about attempting to flip bottles onto high windows in our auditorium, flipping them in the cafeteria and then absolutely refusing to clean up their mess when the bottle opened up, flipping them in class – I’m talking right in front of their teachers.  Oh here’s my favorite; sometime in December our kids were getting ready to go downstairs to lunch when five of them began running down the stairs in a stampede while screaming so fuckin’ loud.  The other witness aside from me?  Our principal.  Not embarrassing at all.

We got them back up and, while at least four of them were smart enough to own up to their fuckups, they explained to us that they threw a bottle down a flight of steps to see how it would land and THAT was what set them off.  This is literally the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen.  The fifth boy, who I actually do get along with very well these days, has definitely developed an addiction of sorts.  If he’s not flipping a bottle he’s taking markers in his math class and he’s flipping those too!  Nothing is sacred – even pencils and pens!

How did it get to this point?  Now, history has shown that kids have always had that one fad toy or object that they had no business taking with them to school or it’d get taken away…but then again, while I do work in the ghetto, I did grow up in the suburbs.  I’m a child of the nineties, where most of the kids had those gay as fuck Tamagotchi’s (this was a legit digital pet that was released just in time for Black Friday in 1996; you actually had to feed it, and it would even die if you didn’t take care of it) and POGs.  I loved POGs.

Image result for batman pogs

If you remember these then congratulations, you’re old.  There were many, many different types of POGs.  I simply chose to use this picture because if memory serves me right then I actually had this set in the fifth grade.  Now this game was fun.  Every pack of POGs had a nice, thick slammer to go with it.  We would stack up as all of our POGs and hit them with the slammer, watching the POGs scatter.  The player who’d slam them would keep whatever POGs were face-up, and each player would continue until  the stack was empty, the winner obviously having the most POGs.  But the difference between us and these kids today is that, as far as I remember, we weren’t stupid enough to play with our POGs IN CLASS where we’d clearly be seen as several milk cap sized pieces of cardboard go fuckin’ flying across the room.  So, like fifth graders with common sense (GASP!), we simply waited until we got into the yard for recess.  What a fuckin’ concept!

Now, I clearly don’t know how other schools or school systems nationwide are handling this situation but in NYC there are so many laws that were not in place twenty years ago regarding how we can approach children and I feel like such a target that I feel that if I just take the fucking bottle certain kids would do everything in their power to fuck me over.  Problem is these kids definitely know their rights, courtesy of their enabling parents.  And they’re very lucky because I’d totally love to shove those bottles down their fucking throats.

Honorable Mention goes to those so-called fidget spinners that nearly everyone in my school now plays with – in class.  When I asked a few kids for an explanation for their playing with them in class one boy told me “they help with anxiety”.  I had to call bullshit, considering that there was not one anxious kid in that particular group.  None of them know what anxiety is.  Upon doing research I read that they alleged help students hold their attention in class but I unfortunately don’t buy that shit one bit because in class I watch some of them just get lost with them.

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R.I.P. New York City…or Why I’m Glad I Got Out!

This is actually going to be full article based on a random thought I wrote about just last year, regarding the decline of New York City’s diversity and character because let’s face it…it’s just gotten worse and will continue to do so.

So it all started just two nights ago, when I came across this article:

http://ny.curbed.com/2016/8/12/12452636/target-east-village-opening-date

Wait…what the fuck?  A new, two floor Target in the East Village?  With a 30-year lease on the building?!  First off, I’m a bit biased here because I used to work at Target but…ew!  Also…why?  Why Target and why in the East Fucking Village??  Then, I reminded myself of exactly why: money talk$.

I wrote a year ago that many of the places I used to know were going away at a pretty steady pace, especially at my old haunts, specifically St. Mark’s Place, which I had said was at least hanging on a thread so long as Sounds was still around, even if it was open just three days a week by that point, if anything for the sake of posture.  Whoops!  Not too long after I wrote that piece Sounds finally did close down for good, signaling THE end of the more culturally diverse St. Mark’s Place I used to know once and for all.  Why?  Because who the fuck can afford these fucking rent hikes?  Oh wait…chain stores can!

Oh, I can go on and on about when I first noticed this change, and how it changed the entire landscape of Manhattan alone – don’t even get me started with Brooklyn!  But instead I’m going to rant about who we can all blame for this and if you live or used to live anywhere in New York City (like me) you already know why: yuppies and especially hipsters.  The hipsters started fucking everything up when they came to Williamsburg, Brooklyn from whatever bumfuck towns/states they grew up in during the late 90’s/early 2000’s with their daddys’ checkbooks in search of somewhere cheap as hell.  In just a few years time a once extremely dangerous part of Brooklyn now had hipster themed bars and vintage record shops on almost every street corner.  And not only that, rent was now fucking sky high.  I was an intern for a music marketing firm in Manhattan in 2007 and a considerable portion of the hipster fuckheads I worked with lived in “Billyburg”.  The only way they could be living there was if their parents were paying the rent because I can tell you right now they sure as fuck weren’t making even remotely decent salaries at this particular firm.  I’d look for apartments in Brooklyn on craigslist and some of these prices were retarded.  $2000 for a studio off of Bedford Ave?  Really?  But if you want to know how I truly feel about hipsters just watch this amazing clip from The Gentlemen’s Rant.  Skip to the 1:50 mark for my favorite part!

This was just the beginning, of course.  Soon, the resulting trickle down effect happened: Manhattan followed suit.  The hipsters lived in Williamsburg in order to be as close to Manhattan as possible so before anyone knew it any area near the Williamsburg Bridge, especially the Lower East Side, started changing at that steady paced I mentioned before to cater to these motherfuckers.  The trickle down effect here?  Long standing Mom and Pop stores began to close shop to be replaced by some really strange fucking things.

This also spread, of course, throughout most of Manhattan, not just the Lower East Side.  Old buildings were being knocked down to make room for high rise condos that I know I sure can’t afford.  Here’s a quick story.  My dad’s been in real estate since 2005, having gotten his real estate license from NYU in 1988, and he was responsible for one of these buildings in the Lower East Side being knocked down in 2007.  He told me that while on site a girl came up to him asking him to please sign her petition to stop these developers from knocking the building down, obviously having no idea she was talking to the very person behind the whole thing.  Oops!

To some of you reading this I risk coming off as yelling at yuppies and hipsters to get off my lawn like a bitter old man.  You’d be wrong.  Yeah, I hate yuppies and REALLY hate hipsters.  But my big problem is that because of them, and more specifically about their lack of history, having not grown up in the city like I did, they appear to truly lack any appreciation for the charm New York City once had.  It was once such a diverse city.  I don’t just mean for the reputation of it’s many areas – not just the parts I mentioned – but because you could go into any street corner and find something completely random and enjoyable.  Hell, twelve years ago I could just turn to W 48th St in the tourist trap that is Times Square and I’d just happen to find the once infamous Music Row.  You’re reading correctly, there was once an entire block of just music instrument stores.  Several Sam Ash buildings, each one dedicated to specific instruments, Rudy’s, the world famous Manny’s Music, just to name a few.

Oh, here’s my favorite.  A 111 year old art supply store right around the corner from Webster Hall is being forced out of business because the building was sold to some jerkoff who plans to make the building into a hotel geared toward…millennials??  What the fuck does that require exactly that a piece of HISTORY is being forced to close down for this?  Someone please tell me.  What exactly makes millennials so fucking special?  Is it the computer thing??  Since the age range for millennials is between 1982 and 2002 I guess I’d be considered a millennial on paper, being that I was born in 1984.  But I’m no millennial because just about anyone born in the 80’s knew how to survive without cellphones and computers.  Ask the kids today when they last experienced a fleeting, random moment.  You’d probably hear crickets for a long time because that’s how often their heads are down at their smartphones they honestly have NO BUSINESS carrying around at twelve years old.

So here’s my main point to all of this.  Gentrification my ass!  If I wanted to go to an outdoor strip mall I’d go to probably any other city…or an outdoor strip mall.  I used to live in a city that had a very special charm to it, one that was different, one with so much diversity and excitement, one with character.  These were the things that made it The Greatest City In The World, because it’s not that anymore, not when I see Subway restaurants on nearly every street corner and increasingly more homeless people on the streets because they were evicted for their inability to pay their rents.  If you’re reading this and are as disgusted with what’s become of it all like I was, do yourself a favor and get out while you still can…like I did, because it’s no longer just the East Village that’s dead – all of New York City is!

There are times now where I drive on Route 3 E and if I catch it around sunset I get a gorgeous view of the city from afar.  But every time come across this brilliant view I sadly can’t help but always think to myself the same thing over and over again: “New York City…beautiful to look at…ugly to live in…”

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Hail Satan!

I recently restarted a facebook account after being off it for a good two years, strictly for the sake of promoting this blog.  Of course, though, I got curious and looked up some old friends I may have not spoken to in a while, which led me to look up and ex-guitarist of mine, Matt Holbowitch.  I immediately was blindsided when the page read “Remembering Matt Holbowitch”; underneath it was a status written by a friend of his about memorial service arrangements and he left his phone number.

I called him after being in a state of shock for a few minutes and, while I won’t get into the details, it was a pretty shitty situation, causing Matt to take his own life.  While I’m sure I’ll get into how we met in another post, I couldn’t help but remember what turned out to be our last phone conversation two years ago.  He was living in Missouri, where he was a diesel mechanic, and he called me after I threw the horns up in response to a video he posted on facebook of him playing “Flight Of Icarus”.  He asked me what it would take for me to go down there to hang for a week and I told him not much, but I never followed up.

I wish he reached out to me if he was having problems.  Fuck, I wish I kept in touch with him.  Suicide was not the way out, especially when you’re the father to a two year old and a one year old.  If you are reading this and you want to take your own life, do yourself a favor and go find someone to talk to because burying that shit will do you no good in the long run.

In memory of him I decided to cover “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath” for my first true electric guitar video.  Why that one?  Because this guy was so fucking metal that his first words were “Black Sabbath”.  Not momma, not dadda.  Black.  Sabbath.  I doubt you can just make that up.  Because of that alone I salute him and say hail Satan!

 

Matt Holbowitch 1977 – 2016

 

Looking For Underground Bands to Review!

I want to start reviewing EPs, albums and demos from new and upcoming metal bands for my blog. I’ve reviewed CDs in the past for my college radio station and have even conducted interviews for my old show including L.A. band Cerberus (I’m mentioned in the thank you credits of their 2007 release Dispute The Truth, great album!)and ex-Venom guitarist Mykus; I want to start doing that again and just maybe help out some real good bands. Are you out there?

If you are reading this and know of any good underground bands worth listening to or are in a band and want me to check you guys out hit me up! I’m looking for anyone playing Death Metal(especially the really brutal shit!), Black Metal (nothing symphonic or with any keyboards please!), Thrash, Sludge, Grindcore or anything with a crust influence.  Bottom line:  I want it Extreme.

I’ll also need whatever links you can give me so I can use them to promote the bands, should I choose to review them.

Hope to hear from you!

All Aboard The Asshole Train!

So, if you know anything at all about old school jazz, big band or Dixieland, you just might be familiar with a song called “Take The A Train”.  Here’s the legendary Duke Ellington featuring Beverly in 1943, telling you all about the quickest way to get to Harlem!

Guess what?  Fuck Harlem.  Fuck Harlem back then and fuck Harlem now, especially now for the gentrification!  But more than that, fuck the A train – or as I like to call it – the Asshole train!

So, what makes me call the A train what I call it?  I’ll tell ya!  So, before I moved to New Jersey at the end of August 2015, I’d take an express bus into Manhattan.  From there I’d take either the 4 or 5 express trains to get to my job in the heart of Carribean Brooklyn, Crown Heights.  If I remember anything about that ride the clientele totally changed the closer we got to Brooklyn and beyond, since I’d have to get off at Franklin Ave and then transfer to the Shuttle from there to get to my job.  Crowding wasn’t that big of a deal; of course, it’d get a bit more packed as I’d head back toward Manhattan to go home on the bus.  Needless to say I didn’t really feel like I was on my way home until I was on that bus.

After I moved to Jersey everything obviously changed and I needed to find a new route.  Oh, I did all right.  The train needed?  That much sung about and once glorified A train.  When I began using my new route to get to work I left so early that the train seemed to arrive exactly when I got to the platform.  Convenient, right?  Well, things do change.

I started leaving for work a little latter because I was struggling to get up in the morning and suddenly the train was becoming more and more unreliable for time.  And every time I do catch it, it is ALWAYS jam packed with people literally FORCING THEMSELVES ON TO THE TRAIN regardless of how full it is.  There have been times were I’d straight up wait for another train or take the C train because these people are some dumb motherfuckers!

Ever since taking this train I’ve come across some of THE dumbest, rudest motherfuckers I’ve ever seen on ANY train.  I’ve been on the underground septa trains in Philly and even those people didn’t crush each other to get on the train!  Oh, and did I mention that some of these people are so fucking rude?

Just yesterday, I was on my way to Port Authority on the train.  Someone comes on the train at 34th St, a stop away from mine.  I was playing Angry Birds Pop on my phone, a tad bent over as most of us tend to be when this ghetto looking loser had the balls to tell me:

“Yo, lean back, you’re in my way!”

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to like that but say ‘excuse me’ and just maybe I’ll do it!”

“Alright, excuse me”

“Good!  And look at that – here’s my stop.  Have a good day!”

What the fuck does this asshole think I am, a fucking Fat Joe song??  And just today, like most days when I’m headed home, no matter how many times the conductor tried to close the doors at certain stops, more and more people were seriously forcing themselves into the train, making it extremely difficult for ANYONE to get out.  Very safe, right?  It was about a few months into my time on the A that I knew what I was really on: The Asshole train.

See, I’m sure things were very different in 1939, the year that fucking song was written, but times change of course and sadly it did so for the worse.  Forget the fact that I already hate New York City as a whole and most of the jerkoffs that live in it in general, but the fucking trains are the absolute worst – especially the Asshole Train.  What I’m very much looking forward to in a just a matter of weeks is two months away from feeling like a can of sardines, away from junkies, that one jackass kid that always wants to sell candy so he can buy more candy and do something positive – “anybody wanna BUY!” – the stragglers that seemingly wait until the last minute to get on the train as the doors are closing, making anyone feel trapped.  That day isn’t coming soon enough.  For the rest of you?  All aboard the Asshole Train and remember: “Stand clear of the closing doors, please!”  But I already know you motherfuckers won’t.  Suck it.

 

Random Thoughts

New Album Upload

Last week I uploaded two albums on to my YouTube account, Morbid Angel’s Covenant, and Mercyful Fate’s Don’t Break The Oath.  Just last night I added my all time favorite Iron Maiden album in it’s entirety, Piece Of Mind.  Here’s the link:

First time I ever heard “The Trooper” on WSOU in 2001 it kicked my ass so hard.  This is even MORE of what I needed in my search for ONLY the best shit because if I heard anymore shitty emo-punk or nu-metal depending on who I hung out with on that day I was going to throw myself against a barbed wire fence.  I’m pretty sure I was the ONLY one in my school that had REAL taste in music.  I don’t miss high school at all.  As for Piece Of Mind goes, this to me is the album that, once and for all, established the blueprint to the Maiden sound.  Yeah sure, they already had the epic songs before this but I feel like the great abundance of guitar harmonies on this album set the stage for nearly every band that came after them.  I always felt like The Number Of The Beast is so fucking overrated.  It’s really not that fantastic to me.

Powerlifting Progress

Today began my final week of training before my first meet on May 21st at the Ramada Inn in Newark, NJ.  On the heavy week of 5/3/1 I hit my final PR of 320lbs.  Since you’re only supposed to just hit the prescribed number of reps as you get closer to the meet I “just” hit one rep but I know I could’ve done more.  This shit was TOO easy!  But hey judge for yourself:

Too easy.  Thanks to having nothing but C4 in my system at the time of this set I got a bit carried away and cursed at and even screamed at the bar when I was done, making my girlfriend think I was pissed.  Hardly the case, but here’s some dialogue between me and her from after I finished:

Me: That was too easy!

Girlfriend: That screaming stuff is why you’d get kicked out of that other gym.

Me: Planet Fitness?

Girlfriend: Yep.

Me: Yeah?  Well fuck Planet Fitness!

But seriously though, fuck Planet Fitness.  Any gym that kicks a guy out of a gym for grunting while squatting 500lbs is NOT a real gym – and that’s a true story, by the way.  I’ll never train in Planet Fag.  I lift things up and put them down.

Here’s my entire routine for today:

Deadlift

125 x 5

155 x 5

185 x 5

255 x 5

285 x 3

320 x 1

Stationary Bike

10 minutes

50 calories burned

1.78 miles

Average HR: 115

The Ballad Of Ozzy and $haron

So I woke up this morning to the news Ozzy and Sharon are splitting, not because of drugs or alcohol.  That alone is fascinating just because he drunkenly tried to kill her back in 1989.  Too bad he didn’t get the job done!  This time it’s because she apparently went through his cellphone and discovered numerous texts and calls to celebrity hair stylist Michelle Pugh, a woman more than two decades younger than Ozz.

I can’t say I’m too shocked.  First off, if we all know anything about Ozzy we all should know he probably doesn’t even know how to operate his own phone just because he’s a dumb motherfucker.  So how could he know how to delete his own history?  Right?  It’s one thing to just look at the phone bill when it comes in but THIS was just too easy because it’s Ozzy and he’s stupid as shit.

But more important than that, could anyone blame the guy?  Look at pictures of $haron even in her youth and then look at Michelle Pugh.  Hell, I’ll help you:

Pugh

Look at that and tell me she’s not a cute woman.  I dare you to tell me that’s NOT a major upgrade from $haron in the looks department alone.  Hey, just maybe she’s even nicer than that witch.  Sure, $haron  may have saved Ozzy from drinking himself to oblivion after being booted out of Black Sabbath back in 1979, but it’s pretty much been documented for years that she’s a cunt.  Maybe Ozzy wanted a break from $haron’s overbearing attitude.  As of this writing he’s in a hotel in Beverly Hills.

But the truth is, in the end, they’ll get back together.  He’s still a puppy that needs his master and she needs a source of REAL income.  $haron herself recently admitted on The Talk that she caught him in bed with one of their kids’ nannies.  So why didn’t she ditch him then?  She said because she knew he was high as fuck at the time.  So there you have it.  She excused him them, she excused him when he nearly KILLED her and she’ll eventually excuse him for this, crawling back to each other in pure desperation, since neither of them know anything else at this point in their lives.  So…no need to make a big thing about this.

 

 

“Is That A Chick’s Ass????”

You see the guitar in the main picture?  Yeah?  Now look at the finish closely.  All you see is a pink guitar?  Look again…closer.  See it now?  Now, if you’re a guy under twenty you just jizzed yourself. Twice.  If you’re over twenty you can’t stop laughing, but you still have control over yourself.  You women though….oh, you….the mixed reactions you broads have given this guitar over the years…some of you are obviously offended…yet…some of you actually like it!!  Really???  Um…ok!

I’ll never forget the first time I laid eyes on this thing back in the early spring of 2004, probably the end of March.  My old music store, where I was no longer taking lessons at this point, was right next door to my shit job where I was working at the time so I took a visit until I had to go clock in.  I looked to my right and immediately saw this…guitar…hanging on the wall.  It was a B.C. Rich Bich, the one shape I’ve always wanted ever since I saw old clips of Dave Mustaine using it with Metallica on Megadeth’s VH1 Behind The Music episode three years earlier.  But this one was…different…and not just because it was part of B.C. Rich’s Body Art Series either.  The pervert in me immediately saw what a lot of people usually need a few looks to see.  Holy shit that’s a chick’s ass in a thong!  A chick’s ass is the finish of a guitar!  What does this say on the tag?  “Bich’s Back”?  Yeah, I’ll say!  Only $300?  Hmmmm.

I was told by the store owner’s piece of shit daughter, who I won’t name because she doesn’t deserve the recognition, that there were two other guitars like that but they sold quickly as should’ve been expected.  She then said that she arranged for B.C. Rich to recall the last one?  Why?  “Because I don’t want kids to come in here and see it.”  I wish I knew what the big deal is, as far as I know she’s only music store employee I ever knew that would say something that stupid.  It’s been more than eleven years since I heard that remark and I still can’t believe I heard it!  So fuckin’ what if a kid sees it??  After much debating I asked this dumb bitch when B.C. Rich were supposed to come.  “Friday”, she told me.  “Yeah?  Well call them and tell them to forget it.  I’ll be back here when I get paid to put money down on it.”, was my immediate response.  I had to get this thing.

The very next Friday I went back there right after I got out of work and used part of my tax return to pay the rest off and this baby was mine!  As the store owner’s cunt of a daughter was counting my money she quipped in a pretty serious tone “I think you’re a pervert for buying this!”.  Oh I have stories on this twat that could last a whole day’s worth of conversation; but then you’d have to knock me out to shut me up.  But who gave a shit?  They had $300 of my money since I was no longer taking lessons with them at this point anyway AND I had a guitar that practically screamed sleazy, filthy no condom fucking…with the risk of a few STDs.  Twenty four frets for hitting those high notes to make this bich scream, a curvaceous body, that finish!  The store’s owner offered to drive me to the mall since I wanted to grab some food before I went home since I didn’t have a car yet; while in his van I asked him if he thought I was a perv like his jackass daughter said I was for buying the guitar.  “I think it’s the most macho thing you can buy!”, he quickly responded.

My time in the mall?  Oh that was just fantastic!  I was given an acoustic guitar case to carry the Bich in because of it’s abnormal shape and when I arrived at the food court to eat I ran into someone and I sadly don’t remember who the guy was.  I showed him the guitar and he couldn’t believe the finish on this.  At that very moment I was approached by this guy I’ve seen on and off at bus stops in his Fun Station USA work shirt.  He had long hair in a pony tail with an under shave and he wanted to let me know that and he and his girlfriend both saw my guitar from across the way and he wanted to tell me he thought it was awesome.  That was cool and he seemed like a nice guy.  The problem?  His girlfriend, who was giving me the death stare right behind him, was this lunatic who I was crazy enough to be friends with not even two years earlier and to say the least I was surprised she was still alive.  I actually spotted her crazy ass a month earlier at a show and when I told my dad the next day even his response was “She’s still alive??”.  So as much as her boyfriend – and future baby daddy – was cool, I could not wait to brush him off as quickly as I could!

It’s amazing, the kinds of people you can attract just by carrying a guitar.  While I was on my way home I was waiting to transfer to my second bus when some homeboy asked to see my guitar.  “Yo dat shit is dope!”, he yelled out with a big laugh.  Then came this weird looking lady who clearly had to be in her late forties.  She saw that I had a B.C. Rich and decided to tell me this story that I still don’t know if I want to believe, in which she saw Metallica with Mustaine on lead guitar at a show.  According to her Dave was playing his first B.C. Rich guitar.  He hated it so much that at the end of the show he smashed it and one of the wooden shards hit this lady’s neck, cutting it open.  She then told me she would force it to stay open for weeks because she wanted to keep the memories.  Ok….

The next day I finally plugged it in and I was kind of surprised to hear how weak the pickups actually were.  I should’ve known, being that the guitar was kind of a novelty.  The solution?  Replacing them with EMG 85 and 81 pickups – problem definitely solved!  Goddamn this thing was loud after that.  I was playing it – and bragged about it – with a sense of pride for years.  It just screamed “METAL!!” as far as I was concerned.  I used it for years, I mean my next three bands.  I saw it as an attention grabber and my ex-guitarist from my first metal band joked that the guitar is the one thing I’d be remembered for.  Months before my second band’s debut gig in 2007 I decided the guitar needed a little extra kink if you will, so I went to Rudy’s on 48th St in Manhattan and got myself a Levy’s Leather Strap with chains going right down the middle.

Of course, not everybody liked the guitar.  Typical scenario: I’d bring the guitar somewhere, where is irrelevant.  I’ll take my guitar out and some woman will notice.  “That’s an interesting guitar, bring it over here.”  I bring it over.  “It’s so interesting that you’d have a pink guitar.  Wait…is that…oh…”.  Just like that she’s grossed out.  In fact the last time I had the guitar set up for it’s final shows in 2013, the female owner of the store I went to, Rustic Music Center, took one look and declared “that’s the funniest and grossest guitar I’ve ever seen” before calling the guys in the place to take a look at the finish.  I auditioned for the thrash band Sun Descends in 2005 and when I took the guitar out the lead singer, ex-Exumer vocalist Mem Von Stein, immediately said to me with weariness in his eyes “You have another guitar…right?”

But as I said earlier, some women thought it was amazing, including my brother’s ex-girlfriend as well as girls who worked at my college radio station.  Speaking of my brother, one day a friend of his that I used to go to school with gave me a ride to the bus, I think.  I had my guitar with me and when my brother told me to show the guitar his wannabe rapper buddy even he yelled out “What???  That’s AWESOME!!”  Yeah, the guitar even transcends musical boundaries.  At my first ever metal show some dope told me he wanted to have sex with my guitar.  My bodybuilder doppelganger and friend Jon has even considered buying one of his own all because of mine!

Since then I’ve been retired from band life.  So where’s the guitar been ever since I’ve moved to New Jersey?  In the closet because my girlfriend doesn’t want to see it.  Oh sure, I’ll take out from time to time.  I think I’d like to give it another setup.  I do know that if I ever got back into it and began work on the offensive metal project of my dreams there’s no better than my Bich’s Back to get the job done!

Here’s the Bich today:

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