"She's got the teeth & the wings of an African bat. Her middle name is Mud Bone, and on top of all that..."
I am taking applications for potential band members. I decided 3 minutes ago to drop out of school and start a band. On the side, I will work a job at Soundwaves by day and another at Brasils by night.
In my downtime, I will read copiously and listen to obscure music for the purpose of being able to sound pretentious and learned on all matters intellectual & musical. Then I'm going to go to band practice & play gigs.
My parents will call on occasion and ask What went wrong? I will answer with variations of the following: The system is a sham, and life is about personal liberation and the pursuit of the heart's desires. My parents will talk about the struggles of immigrating to this country for their children's future. All the while, song lyrics for my band's next single will circulate through ears and cranium.
Rinse, lather and repeat on the weekly.
When I am 80, I will gaze at the tattoo on my left forearm. It says "Rebel with a Cause." I push the pink hair from my eyes. I realize that I am a hip ass granny who can play a mean guitar solo. But I wonder what became of that History degree...
The Hives' Abra Cadaver playing in the backgrounds slowly fades. The screen goes black. The credits roll.
And then I woke up, sighed, and continued writing up a presentation on Frederick Jackson Turner's Frontier Thesis and its contribution to historiography.
But I still fucking hate school!
"...Your mama's got the wooden legs with real feet!"
Back ::: Forth
