"SHE'S NOT WET!": 2011 Look Back At Sex.

2011 is almost nil. I wish I could say that I was sad, but I'm not. I will say that 2011 was a fuck of a lot easier than years previous. It started out a bit rocky, but between deciding to move to D.C. and all of the cool experiences that I've had, 2011 was not that shitty of a year! I have this feeling in my gut that 2012 is going to be the most amazing year that I've ever had. Every astrological forecast says so also. I'm turning 25, I know for sure who I am and what type of life I want, as well as the type of people I want in it. Thinking about 2011, I will say that things were extremely stale in the "Fucking for fun" department. I mean, I had some fun, but for the most part, it kind of lacked the frequency and extraordinariness that I had experienced the two years before. I'm well overdue for a mind-altering sexual experience. And it wasn't that there was a lack of beautiful men around me..god, were there some hot pieces..but I had no clue what I wanted from them! And when I'm unsure, I don't act. Did I just want to fuck them and never see them again? Did I want to date them? My sex life in 2011 was perplexing. The universe hit the snooze button, but I think that it was for the best. I'm not sure that I could have handled some weird fucked up sex/man drama AND moving to a new city. Raleigh had become a haunted house where the ghosts of past relationships, fuck buddies and unrequited loves roamed freely. Repeating that pattern would have ruined the "fresh start" that D.C. offered and I definitely needed to focus on life in a new city. I was just talking with Elizabeth about this FUCKED UP guy situation that happened at least a year and a half ago. Chopped and screwed. I'm not one for the melodramatic, so it's a rarity that ANYONE, let alone a guy, gets the best of me..but this one did. I can't get into the details, because that's where the devil is. And I don't even want to put my psyche through that again. Elizabeth and I were discussing how long it's been since I've had guy drama..She had to remind me. I'm so thankful for that, yet, 2012 better be the year of FUCK, because I am not getting any younger, I'm a stimulation junkie and it's been a long time since I've had an awesome sex story to recant.

Netflix, Incest And A Damn Good Instant Queue.

I rocked the fuck out of my Netflix tonight. I watched not one, but two fucked up ass movies. The first was called "The Girlfriend Experience", which starred ex-porn star Sasha Grey. It was pretty good, though I must say that Sasha Gray was pretty wooden in it (pun wasn't intended, but now it is). She plays a call girl..It's a pretty uneventful movie..Like some "day in  the life of" type o' shit. Nothing to run home about. The second one, however, was a whole heap of "what in the fuck" with a side of "will my psyche ever be clean again". It's called "Savage Grace" and stars Julianne Moore as the wife of an extremely wealthy scion of industry/trust funder. They have a son who is the most ginger-y ginger I've ever seen. If there were ever an example needed for why most people hate gingers, this guy would be it...That was mean. Okay, so the kid is a mama's boy, the father leaves the family for a hot Spanish chick (who played "Vera" in one of the most fucked up movies I've ever seen, "The Skin I'm In"). Long story short, the mom and son fuck. Yep, full on incest. Shortly after, the son kills her. I have no more words for this except, "my dreams are gonna fucking kill". So naturally, since I watched those movies, Netflix recommended a plethora of fare that match the whole "why am I watching this and what happened to me as a child that I can't stop" angle. Somehow, Katt Williams got lumped in with the movie about a man with down syndrome who's obsessed with porn, and no, it's not a mockumentary. I've got almost a whole bottle of wine, pita chips and a tin full of cookies that Sally sent me for the holidays, so it's definitely going to be an entertaining week.

Apple Store, Goddamn.

Today I finally triumphed over the Apple Store. After multiple trips to the store in Pentagon City Mall for a fucked up logic board, they finally agreed to just replace my computer. Now, this act was not achieved easily. I had to call Apple, curse out one of their asshole reps, hang up, flirt with another rep and talk about Sci-Fi and THEN they agreed to give me a new one. I was concerned that they would just give me some piece of shit computer that they refurbished or something, but they actually took one off the shelf, opened it in front of me and let me have it. This computer is so bitchin. It auto-corrects like an iPhone and is just all around baaad as fuck. I'm so down with this computer. It's insane how fast Apple updates their shit. My laptop wasn't even past it's warranty period and the "newer" version of it surpasses it ten-fold..Oh! Like an asshole, I didn't back anything up, so I'm starting fresh, which is fine, because the only thing that I had of importance was my fap-folder full of hot dudes' dicks called "Masto-Blasto!!", so I'm just going to start another one from scratch. I think that will be fun, having to look at dicks and go through them with a fine tooth comb. I don't know why, but I'm so fucking into dicks and dudes jerking off. It's insane. If I could, I would hold fake open auditions for a porn and require all would-be stars to jerk off in front of me as part of the audition process. Skeevy old man shit, I'm all over it. The graphics on this motherfucker are supposed to be stellar, so I'm looking forward to watching Netflix and Hulu soon. I haven't decided whether the anthropomorphic qualities of this computer are going to be female or male..Maybe tranny. It vibes hermaphrodite, or like a guy dressed like a girl. I'm gonna go with the latter. I'm renaming her Morgana Dead. In case I haven't explicated it enough in this blog post dedicated to the subject, I fucking love this computer and am thankful for the other one being a complete dick. For once in my life, I am going to get Apple Care.

"Dude, my computer experience is the equivalent to watching a hot dude with a huge dick jerk off while I'm drinking a chai latte and eating a beef chalupa supreme..It's like that."
-AVG, '11

Now I Got Worry.

• 
  

  5 minutes ago

  A V G

  • Is it weird that after I sleep with a guy, I scream "ewwww" in my head?!
• 
  

  5 minutes ago

  A Sav

  • Omg bahahahahahhaah
  • Why ewww
  • I just choked laughing
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  4 minutes ago

  A V G

  • I DON'T KNOW!!!! IT'S COMPULSIVE!!!!
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  4 minutes ago

  A Sav

  • Are you grossed out
  • Or no?
  • Cuz you enjoy the moment right
• 
  

  3 minutes ago

  A V G

  • Yeah, but afterwards, like if I just think about it randomly, or I see them on fb, I just scream "ewww"!!!
• 
  

  2 minutes ago

  A Sav

  • That's just funny A
• 
  

  2 minutes ago

  A V G

  • It just happened now, that's why I brought it up

DARON.

I had a great love once. It was true. But as always, most things must come to an end. His name was Daron. Daron Malakian. 

I was reading i-D mag today, and there was an article with the impossibly gorgeous Jessica Miller. Jessica's a model who happens to have dated Daron. Dated. In the magazine, Daron is listed as an ex, along with Brandon Boyd. As if her beauty alone wasn't enough to illicit hate from the less secure. Now, allow me to be a super-dooper fangirl here, but their breakup is massive news for my sixteen year old self. Daron and Jessica dated from '03 to '11. That's insane. I remember the uproar it's incipience caused on Daronmalakianrocks.com, the go-to for everything "Daron". So when I found out Daron and Jessica split, it took me back to my adolescence.

Daron is the guitarist and singer of SYSTEM OF A DOWN. Grammy winning, multi platinum selling artist and the object of my teenage desires. When System of a Down first came out, I was super freaked out by them. At that point, I was told that all things "metal" were demonic, so when I saw their video for the song "Sugar", it freaked me the fuck out, yet did not create quite the existential crisis that Tool's "Sober" did when I was 8. It took my freshman year of high school for me to truly get into them. I saw their video for "Chop Suey" for like the 18th time on MTV and decided to give them a try. WHY DID I DO THAT?! I fell hard. They were my NSYNC. I will say that I probably had a crush on every member of the band before I stuck to Daron. Daron resonated with me in a visceral way. It was something about him. He was a dandy guitar virtuoso. An androgynous tiny-man with the musical ability of a fucking GOD. I fell in love. To me, he was the most beautiful man that I'd ever seen. I plastered my wall with pictures of him and SOAD that I had taken from magazines and printed from the web during class. Everyone in my grade knew who the fuck Daron was. We became synonymous. "Daron" interchangeable with "Ashley". Right before the end of my freshman year, I scored tickets to KROCK's music festival at Jones Beach. All the biggest rock bands were there. I got a hot pink Clinique makeup bag autographed by most of them. SOAD killed that show. I had nosebleed-y seats, so I really relied on the jumbotrons to see their show, but it was still awesome. I left that show feeling unsatisfied, as though because I didn't get to meet Daron, the whole day was a bust. Looking back now, the only thing that I can think is, "I was 15. What was I REALLY going to do if I had met him?!". That summer was fucking rough. My grandmother fell ill and eventually passed away. SOAD without a doubt helped me keep my sanity in tact. Grandma being sick and dying meant that there would be an influx of fucking people around the house...I would retreat to my bedroom and blast SOAD. I had gotten a job as a camp counselor that summer so that I could buy a guitar. I was soo shitty that they eventually stopped having teens work there (that's what I do best..destroy shit), but my mom made me work for a guitar. I taught myself how to play it by playing Korn's first record, Sabbath, tape recordings of Eddie Trunk's metal show and of course SOAD. Daron's playing style had a direct effect upon mine. The fast picking and heavy melodic influence tinged with "middle eastern". Sophomore year, I became known as a guitarist and had a few bands with various friends. During fall, my family was adjusting without our matriarch and I was still heavy into SOAD and Daron. At that point, they released an album of extra material from their record "Toxicity". It was called "Steal This Album" and it was fucking awesome. In promotion of it, SOAD was going to visit the KROCK studio and there would be a chance to see SOAD play anywhere in the world as well as win a signed guitar...Uhmmm...???!!!!!! "AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!". This was around the time of Thanksgiving so I was already lulled into a peaceful state. In that peace, something happened to me. I knew that I would win that contest. I knew with every particle of my being and there was no deterring me. I meditated upon it, visualized it and pretended as though I had already won. By the way, this was all before my interest in The Law of Attraction and Esther Hicks, so that's how I know that those teachings are legit. So the day came for the contest. Serj Tankian (SOAD lead singer) was the only one that came, which made me a little merrrr, since I wanted to hear Daron's voice. I held onto the feeling/knowing that I had already won, so when they decided to deviate from their usual formula of accepting the 90-somethingth caller and decided to give the prize to the person that knew where the band played their first show, I knew it was a done deal. I was a MASSIVE SOAD-head, so I practically knew which hospitals they were born in. I called my mother at work and told her that she has to call the radio station and if she gets through, the answer is "at the Roxy in L.A.". I made her repeat it over and over until it became second nature. I hung up with her and began calling. Every person that got on the air guessed wrong. I had forgotten that my mother was calling also and just focused on trying to get through. Eventually, a woman did, and when they asked her the question, she said, "at the Roxy in L.A.!!". "Bitch!", I said..Everyone, including Serj, was shocked that she knew the answer. "How did you know that?!", asked the host. "My daughter Ashley Gray told me!!".  My mom had gotten through. MY MOM HAD FUCKING GOTTEN THROUGH!!!!! I screamed and ran outside in the middle of November with no shoes or coat and almost collapsed. I HAD FUCKING WON!!! The months following were surreal. I didn't care about school or anything else. Only going to see SOAD.

That year, they signed up to play the Reading and Leeds festivals in England. In fucking England. My best friend at the time Natalia, and I were no good to anyone while waiting for that concert. We had endless sleepovers where we would write fake interviews about Daron and I being in love and her and John Dolmayan (SOAD drummer) doing the same. Those were amazingly fun times set against the backdrop of Spring and Summer in New York. Those amazing Spring days and sticky Summer ones. Running all around New York like little shitty assholes, knowing that the defining moments of our adolescence was yet to come. The concert was in August (a week after the massive power outting on the east coast) and by that time, we were super ready for the show. My mother and I decided to pay a little extra money to leave earlier so that we could stay in London and explore. The flight was long as fuck and I was so jetlagged that when we took a tour on a double-decker bus, I fell asleep. I will say that I LOVED London. The men there were stupid beautiful and crazy friendly, and we went right when the war in Iraq happened, so it was surprising that we weren't met with any dissent. I would gladly move to London at the drop of a hat. Natalia met us at our hotel and we went walking around with my mom. We were extremely into signs at that time, so everywhere we went we saw signs of SOAD. When we went into a Subway sandwich shop, we saw a guy wearing the exact same shirt that John Dolmayan wore in a photoshoot. We went insane. "Crazy Americans.." is what I'm sure everyone thought, but we didn't give half of a fuck. We took a train to Reading, England, and a cab to the Renaissance hotel, where we were staying. Natalia and I decided to go out and explore Reading festival while my mom slept. We got out of the hotel and walked toward the festival. On the way, we passed a group of hot Indian guys that were selling beers outside of their convenient store. They stopped us and gave us two huge cans of Fosters. They were intrigued by us being Americans and gave us their numbers so that we could hang out with them after the show. We went into the venue and looked at all of the different landmarks that we had seen in the various videos from years past that we watched. We went into a tent that blasted dance music and reveled in the amazingness of what was going on. Two American teenagers in another country to see their favorite band. Shit you see in movies. We watched a little bit of the shows, but eventually started getting tired and decided to leave. On our way out, we ran into a few super sexy security guards. We talked to them for a bit and told them that we'd be back the next day and that they'd better remember us. Naturally, when we got back to the hotel, we couldn't sleep at all. We stayed up listening to music and imagining what was going to happen the next day. When we arrived at the venue again, we showed our passes to a security guard and he let us backstage. We couldn't believe it. Immediately we saw members from all sorts of bands. We hung out with Bert from the Used, Good Charlotte and I got hit really hard in the arm by Steve-O from Sum-41. Everyone who was anyone at the time was there. Jay-Z was even playing that day, though I only saw his entourage. We asked Bert if we could watch his band play from backstage and he said yes and to meet him at a certain time so that he could get us on the side stage. High off of elation, we decided to go out into the general crowd. We walked around in the dust and checked out different pop-up shops. When we tried to get backstage again, another security guard denied us.."What?! We were just back here...". They didn't care. Apparently, it was a mistake and we only had passes for the VIP area. Oh my GOD!! Did this mean that we wouldn't get to meet SOAD?! Did we go all the way to England for nothing?! We went into the VIP area to collect ourselves, chill out and create a plan B. Paris hilton passed by I us and Natalia screamed that she had a "money-stick" stuck up her ass. By the way, there was a heat wave that year in Europe, so it was fucking HOT. We were burning the fuck up, thirsty but not daunted. We spent hours trying to convince people to let us backstage. We were supposed to be back there! The security guards from the night before were soo sweet and tried to help us to the best of their abilities, but their hands were tied. We began to get heat exhaustion and started to feel defeated. We were prepared to throw in the towel and go back to our hotel room. We sat on the sidewalk outside of the venue and were close to tears. I didn't understand why we had gotten all the way there only for this to happen. Then, like a boxer down for the count and with the odds stacked against him, I got a burst of energy and a clarity that I had when I knew that I was going to win the contest in the first place, in the very last hour. I told Natalia that I had a feeling that we should try again. We should go back to the VIP area and try one last time. We had nothing to lose. We walked into VIP and standing around were a bunch of photographers. We went up to one and struck up a conversation. We told him our story and, straight out of a movie, he says, "well there's SOAD right there! Maybe you can talk to them!". The clouds parted, the angels sang and I realized that my adolescence was not in vain. I also realized that my intuition was the only thing in the natural world that could ever be my guide and never let me down. We went up to Shavo and told him our story. Nothing. We told Serj. "Oh, that sucks". WHAT?! Were we getting shutdown by the fucking band?!?! I ignored it and told myself that there were still two more members. John and Daron. John came out and we told him. "Don't worry. I'll fix it."

John left for a few minutes and then came back with Chad, the guy in charge of our concert shit. "Oh my god! Girls, I've been looking for you all day!". I wanted to collapse, but instead, went into my happy place. Chad told us to wait there and that when the show started, he'd come back and get us. When we got on the side of the stage, we were placed next to Lars fucking Ulrich. Now, Lars Ulrich is a known asshole and my bitch crown was given to me at a very early age, so as you can imagine, shit went down. Natalia asked Lars for an autograph and he begrudgingly obliged. The band came onstage one by one..."And there's Daron!". He sported a crazy beard that made him look like Charles Manson, a white button down shirt with a copy of the famous picture of a guy getting shot in the head on it and aviator glasses. My heart swelled. It was insane to think that by sheer want, I was in England watching SOAD and drooling over Daron. We screamed and yelled like little teeny-boppers. We headbanged and thrashed around. Natalia accidentally hit Lars Ulrich. "Sorry!", I said. "It's cool, but can you girls be a little bit quieter?". Why did he say that? "Uhmm, we're two teenage girls in another country watching our favorite band, so no, we can't 'be a little bit quieter'!".  He nodded in agreement and backed the fuck off. The show was amazing. Daron even sang this weird ass song that was "coincidently" timed with our arrival:

Teenage girls with remote controls, if I press rewind, will it make you all cry...

Teenage girls with remote controls if I press you all, will it make it all die...

Ohhhh, I love to watch them too...Ohhhh, I love to watch them too...

Teenage girls with remote controls, if I press rewind will it make you all cry...

Teenage girls with remote control, if I press rewind will it make you all die...

It's at the 1:54 min mark.

The show got more and more amazing and it felt as though it went on forever, which I loovveeddd. Eventually we sat down on the floor to get a clearer view. Natalia gave John a stuffed monkey (he collects them) and he hung it on his drum kit for everyone to see. The people around us started getting weirder and weirder. From crazy relatives and their girlfriends to strange roadies. Shit got really fucking real on that stage. At one point, Serj's cousin started smoking weed and asked us if we wanted some. Considering how odd he was acting, we declined. But all in all, magic happened on that stage. After the show, Natalia and I kind of wandered around and  got hit on by gross roadies. Back in the VIP area, there was catered food and SOAD's friends and family were grubbing down. We went back towards backstage and who walks by...Daarroonnnn (insert bursting hearts and stars). I was overcome with nerves. My anxiety got the best of me and I could do nothing but stand there, mouth agape. He went into an area with tables and chairs. Natalia tried to drag me over towards him, knowing that it was what had to be done, but I resisted. I couldn't do it. My raison d'etre was right fucking there! But I froze. Natalia talked to him and reported back that he was super nice. We hung out with another one of Serj's many cousins named Harry. He was super cool and invited us to come back with them to London on their bus, but I just kept thinking of my poor mother with all of our bags, and we declined. WE FUCKING DECLINED. We were staying in the same hotel as Good Charlotte, so when Joel Madden walked by us and saw me in a MADE sweatshirt (I had it because it was black, do not judge), the look on his face said, "oh my god, super-fans!! How did they find out we were here?!", but I was too distraught and didn't motion towards him, which put him at ease, I guess. The next day was again, out of a fucking movie. In fact, it was like the scene from "The Sweetest Thing" when Cameron Diaz's character realizes that she accidentally crashed her crush's wedding. I couldn't believe that I didn't man up and talk to Daron! I think aside from being extremely shy, I realized that I was sixteen fucking years old. SIX. TEEN. What the fuck does a sixteen year old do with someone who's pushing thirty? Sure, we were in England, and I believe the age of consent is around thirteen (I looked it up at the time), but really? I was a super-virgin, aside from fucking a girl, which, whatever...I won't go into that.  But an overwhelming sense of self-awareness clicked in my head. I was sixteen. Side note, I am so thankful that I am no longer a teenager. I'm at the age now where my opinions kinda matter and I am completely in charge of my own life. Today, that would never happen. I would never say, "oh my god! I can't! I'm too young!". I'm basically twenty-fucking-five. That's nothing to scoff at..

Walking to the train station so that we could catch our flight out of Heathrow, a dove landed directly in front of us. I took that as a sign that I would be okay. Oh, I forgot this part. I had a fucking nervous breakdown! Or whatever happens to depressed teenagers. I couldn't eat, I wanted to vomit and I didn't want to get on that airplane. I was in the most intense existential pain that I think I've ever been in, all because I didn't get to talk to Daron Malakian. My mom was freaking out. I stayed in my room for days. I was stuck on a loop of regret, confusion and helplessness. The only thing that saved me was the thought that I'd get the chance to redeem myself. 

So that's the story of how I came to love Daron Malakian. And although the flames aren't as bright, he'll always have a part of my sixteen year old heart. Sometimes I think that all of the guys that I've ever been deeply attracted to resembled him in some way. It would explain my love of Cancerians and slightly effeminate men. Maybe I'm "Chasing Amy"..."Chasing Daron".

"Ryan Gosling, PLLEEAASSEEEEE!!!!!" Prt. 1

So something has been happening to me lately. I keep having sex dreams about Ryan Gosling. It's simultaneously arousing and exasperating. We never fuck!!! We never ever ever fuck in my dreams and it's getting very annoying. In one dream he was wearing nothing save for a red Speedo and I was rubbing him down with oil. Last night I had a dream that he was my high school teacher and he asked me to write an essay about interracial relationships, after heavy flirting, of course. So now I ask, why does he clit-tease me so? Tonight, we had better have stupid, sweaty sex. I want to wake up in the am and have to shower immediately. No more of this waking up with blue ovaries shit. I need the pseudo-real deal. My psyche needs rub one out material:

"Hey, girl. Yeah, I may let this guy fellate me and force him to swallow the sweet nectar of the gods that is my emission, but I'll be thinking of you the whole time."

I don't even fucking like blonds, but he does it for me in so many ways.

Concert Review: RED FANG, THE DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN and MASTODON

The Show of the year?

Dillinger and Mastodon. 9:30 club. I was on pins and needles with anticipation for this show. First off, Dillinger Escape Plan is one of my favorite bands. They're badass and always bring it. At the last show of theirs that I went to, Greg Puciato (their lead singer) almost tore down their HVAC from the fucking ceiling. SICK. And I will always love Mastodon. Quick story:

I finished out my senior year of Highschool in Raleigh. It was a strange time. Naturally, I wasn't anywhere near being of age to drink, but my fake I.D. fixed that rub. Anyway, I got really into Mastodon and when the chance to go to their show at the Cat's Cradle came up, I took it. So I piled Kayla Esguijian and some dude whose name I can't remember into my Honda Accord and drove to Chapel Hill. At this point, Mastodon was still pretty under the radar and their show wasn't even close to being sold out. They were sooo under the radar that when I went up to their merch table to score a shirt, Bill (Billy) Kelliher was there. I inquired about a shirt that had a black dude on it with a huge fro and a MASSIVE dick with the word "MASTODONG" written underneath it. Unfortunately, they didn't have it in my size. I'm not sure how this came up, but Billy said, in reference to their merch guy, "we like to play football", and I responded with, "I bet it was touch football, wasn't it..". And that was that. We hung out outside of CC and we talked about random stuff. I said how sad I was that the "MASTODONG" shirt was sold out in my size and that they should make a shirt that says "Black chicks love Mastodon". "Do they?", he asked. "Uhh DUH! I DO! And that's all that matters". Then they played their show and this guy started shit with me at the front of the stage and Billy told him off, which was awesome. At some point, I was standing near the backstage area and Billy comes out. I wasn't standing there for any particular reason, actually, I think that it was just the only free spot to stand.  I guess I looked confused or something, because he asks me "What's up?! What do you want? Do you want to come in here?". He was talking really fast and I was really confused and didn't know what to say. My aim wasn't to go backstage, but I didn't want to turn the offer down, so I stood there saying, "uhh, uhh, uhhh..". And then he grabs me and pulls me backstage, leaving my friends to only pray that nothing sordid happens to me. The backstage "area" was a tiny room with a mini-fridge, a couch and a few chairs. There were two people back there with us. One crazy blonde lady and some random dude. I can't remember what they were talking about, but it was tripping Billy and I out and we repeatedly gave eachother the side-eye equivalent to "what the fuck?!". We were having fun just shooting the shit. I was being wild and decided that it would be a great idea, with no objection from Billy, for me to write "ASHLEY FUCKED MASTODON" on the wall in black Sharpie. Billy told me that he and the band were about to go on tour to Europe for awhile, but that we should keep in touch, so we exchanged emails. At one point he asked me how old I was, and I told him. He nearly had a heart attack. Anyway, we did keep in touch that summer and I, being the dirty teenage groupie that I was, sent him pictures (not nude..but whatever..I won't go into how deep my wild times went in those days). I talked to him last year  after their show in Richmond. He's still as awesome as ever.

So the show on Sunday was sold-the fuck-out, and like an asshole, I waited until the last minute to score tickets. I have amazing luck with concerts. I always get good spots, tickets or hook ups. Always. I refused for this time to be different. So when it looked as though Craigslist was going to be a bust, I got the bright idea to go on Dillinger Escape Plan's website to see if anyone was either selling tickets or giving them away. Sure enough, a girl (Julie) had a ticket that she was looking to GIVE to someone. I emailed her immediately. It took a few days, but she responded to me on Saturday. I arrived at the show a bit earlier than I had expected and thought that the back bar at 9:30 would be open, but it wasn't. I looked across the street and saw Brent hinds of Mastodon riding a black bike. What caught my eye was the bar that he rode by. I needed a drink. I walk into the bar and the record skips. All Ethiopian. Everyone looked at me as though I were some crazy foreigner, which is weird because everyone usually thinks that I'm Ethiopian, what with my huge eyes et al. Anyway, I had my septum ring in that night, so I'm sure that's what confused them. It also seemed like a cheers type of place. I order Absolut on the rocks and waited for Julie to text me. As soon as she did, I finished my drink and walked over towards 9:30. Julie was a sweet girl with long brown hair, bangs and glasses. We walked inside and I bought her a drink as a token of appreciation. We shared some DEP gossip and talked about Mastodon's new album. Thank god for Julie.

*NOW FOR MY REVIEW*:

RED FANG: I had heard of this band before, but I had never really heard their music. I have that relationship with alot of things in my life. If it doesn't directly concern or affect me, my knowledge of it is extremely shallow. Now that Mastodon has turned into a prog-rocky saviour for the hipster-metal masses, I expected this band to pretty much be a lighter version of that. I was half right, half-wrong. Honestly, they reminded me of Mastodon, alot, but all of the good aspects that I had come to love. They were what Mastodon would have been if they had followed the route that Remission and Leviathan had cleared. Great time signatures, sludgy and complex when needed. I grooved and headbanged throughout their whole set. They're the type of band that you can see for the first time and not feel guilty about not knowing any of their material.  I could have listened to them all night, but knew that their were much bigger things laying ahead...

THE DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN: The sole reason that I was at that show was to see DEP. Yes, I love Mastodon, always will, but they've abandoned my demographic for the most part and that makes me resentful. But I found solace in the bosom of DEP. The first time that I saw them live was when they opened for Deftones. SIIIICCCKKKK show. So sick, in fact, that I went back to see them the next night and again later that night when they played Talking Head. The show was sold out, but I lied and said that my "boyfriend" had left a ticket for me at the front, and they let me in. Remember what I said about Red Fang being a band that you can feel comfortable headbanging to even if you've never heard their shit before? Well DEP is NOT one of those bands. They're too complex to be a novice fan, you gotta really get into them THEN see them live, unless you just want to have a circle pit and stage dive. But that's why I love DEP. Unless they make a SERIOUS departure, they will never click with hipsters. You wanna talk time signatures? Listen to Ire Works and try to headbang for the first time. Dislocation will ensue. So DEP took the stage, and fucking OWNED. I mean, it wasn't their best show, but they still killed. I could tell that they weren't that into the crowd. Alot of people kinda stood their confused, which is something that I've noticed in DC. People are really perplexed by true-blue metal. There are virtually no metal bars and very rarely any good metal shows. Suffice to say, I was the only person that knew every song and was tripping the fuck out. I almost fell over the balcony a few times, but whatever. My friend Andrea's friend goes out with their singer. Andrea texted her to tell her that I was there and that I could see her on the side of the stage. I waved to her, but she didn't see me. They played a great mix of all of their albums and they sounded tight musically. I had read that their drummer broke his foot the night before and was very worried that it would affect the show. It didn't in any way. Greg did some stage diving and Ben Weinman (guitarist) climbed up this tall lighting thing, but there was no blood.

MASTODON: Now, putting aside my displeasure for the direction that they've taken musically, I will say that they sounded amazing. I liked the songs off of their new album  better when they're played live. Although they sounded killer, I spent 80% of their show with my arms folded and in a perpetual state of dozing off. Their new shit bores me. I miss the Remission and Leviathan days of yore...I hate to be THAT person. The one that always thinks that their favorite band has "sold out", because I don't think that Mastodon have. I think that they're just really into the prog rock thing right now, but I do think that they'll go back to their roots. You can only do prog rock as a metal band for so long, so I'm not counting them out yet. I got extra-hyped when they played Blood and Thunder, Where Strides the Behemoth and, of course, March of the Fire Ants. Then they did this really weird thing for their last song where they brought Red Fang, DEP and some other randoms onstage. It was superfluous and everyone was pretty much confused/mildly annoyed. At least I and everyone else's faces were.

So that is The Red Fang, The Dillinger Escape Plan and Mastodon show in a nutshell. I have video that I will upload directly to Facebook. It was a pretty awesome concert. Red Fang, you've made a new fan out of me. DEP, keep being amazing. And Mastodon, I know that the day will come where I will cry tears of joy elicited by the sonic orgasm that you will give me again. Billy K., you've got my email.

From The Fucked Up Files Of..: ORGY.

Today Samantha and I had a long and in-depth conversation about a band that I loved immensely when I was in middle school. Orgy:

Orgy was every parents nightmare yet the fantasy of every kinda-goth girl born in the mid to late 80's. They wore makeup, frankenstein platforms and sang about..I'm not really sure what, but it felt dark at the time. Their full length release was called "Candy Ass" and it did a great job of blending all of the different "alternative" musical movements of the time. Whiney male vocals courtesy of Jay Gordon, down-tuned guitars and a hint of electronica. The song that caught the attention of us teenyboppers tired of the onslaught of Britneys and NSYNCS was "Blue Monday". It was a cover of the song of the same name by one of my favorite bands, New Order. Orgy gave it a late 90's vibe by adding thick guitar tracks and slowing it down a bit. I remember begging my mother for their album, but she refused to buy it for me. She said that it was because of the word "ass" in the title, but I countered with "you let Bobby (my younger brother) listen to Tupac!!" apparently expletives are okay as long as it comes from the mouth of a thug poet..lol. "Thug poet", I like that. Anyway, Orgy made another two albums. "Vapor Transmission" and "Punk Statik Paranoia". The latter was absolutely HORRIBLE. Apparently Jay Gordon, the band's lead singer, is reviving Orgy with all new members. I think that's pretty lame, but whatever. I also think it's strange that he still thinks that Orgy is THAT relevant. I love 90's Orgy, but that time has long since passed..But 90's Orgy, you will forever live in my heart and my Facebook feed, since Samantha tagged me in a post about "Blue Monday".

Hipster Metal Night.

LOOK AT THESE FUCKING HIPSTER METALHEADS.

A few of the girls and I went to "metal night" last night. I used quotes because, well, you'll see. I had resigned myself to not going to "metal nights" at [name redacted] anymore. Against my better judgement and with the hopes that a girl posse would help, I went last night..And I was not a fan for the following reasons:

1. They play hipster metal ALL FUCKING NIGHT LONG. Everything is stupid, thrashy and "old school", but not even good old school. They play the same fucking Slayer, Pantera and Motorhead songs every fucking time. Now I LOVE all of those bands, but really? Every time? They play no heavy shit. No Deicide. No Napalm Death. NOT EVEN MESHUGGAH!!! WHAT IN THE HOLY HELL?! So I spend every metal night with a perpetual headache thanks to the trebled-out, High E shit that they play all goddamn night. And as much as I love Mastodon, how many fucking times do I have to hear them in a night? Unless it's Remission or Leviathan, Mastodon should not be rocked to that extreme. Save it for a live show. But hipsters love that shit. For them, Mastodon didn't become listenable until after Leviathan. Funny thing is, the majority of people that go to "metal night" at [name redacted] really do think that they're metal..It's bizarre, yet hilarious. They have no idea that they are hipsters. 

2. Because everyone's a hipster, everyone is cliqued-up to hell and back. Everyone's too busy trying to be seen. That's what hipsters do. They stunt. So fucking lame. So it's just a room full of clique-y hipster faux-metalheads trying to act cooler than everyone else. No one talks to anyone outside of their tiny circles and it's fucking ridiculous. I like to meet guys and new people, but it's impossible to do so when you have sects of people not talking and standing with their backs to everyone else. But us girls soldiered on and made the best of it..

3. Anyone who is remotely attractive either already has an ugly hipster girlfriend or is too busy trying to act cool and disinterested. I love talking to guys..But the guys at these things are sooo goddamn lame. I will say that I did end up talking to the most attractive guy there last night. We exchanged numbers. 

I am DONE with metal nights at [name redacted] FOREVER. What was supposed to be an awesome night with beautiful girls turned into a mild headache and light head-nodding thanks to the merciful "DJ" playing ONE FUCKING LAMB OF GOD SONG. Thank GOD my girls were there. They saved my night. I've given that place chance after chance, but we are officially breaking up. Delete my number, burn whatever shit I left at your place, because we're fucking OVER. Hipsters, you win this one.

What I Subsist On 11/11

A Misanthrope's Guide To: WORKING.

What I'm sure most employers think of me:

I hate working. I know that everyone and their dead grandmother hates working, but I REALLY fucking hate working. I'm sure that my hate is at once fueled and exacerbated by the fact that I work in the "service industry". Being a people-hater in an industry that is extremely people-oriented is soul-crushing. I've done it all. Served, cocktailed, and last but not least, bartended. I LOVE bartending and I'll tell you why. There is an immense amount of control and autonomy as far as bartending is concerned. A good bartender is looked at as a deity. Someone who can handle money, multitask and make drinks fast as fuck is a rarity. And this is why I am the shit. I have a sense of urgency in life that is unparalleled..when I give a shit. When I am invested and interested in something, I give it my all. When I could give ten shits about something, I give nothing. I have quit a million and one jobs simply because I didn't give a thousand fucks about the place and/or I just "didn't like the vibe"..That's just who I am. I owe no one any explanations or excuses because I am a self reliant individual. I am a fucking JOB SNOB. At times I feel guilty about being this way. I'm sure it makes me look flaky, lazy and unmotivated, but that is soo far from the truth. I am a very hard worker..when I give a fuck. I'm pretty sure that this all stems from feeling powerless and at the mercy of the whims of others as a child. My childhood was fraught with instability, which has turned me into a self-centered adult. If I don't want to do something, I'm not going to do it. Blame my mother, I do. Nonetheless, I think that self-awareness is the key to self-mastery and I'd like to think that I own the market on the first. So instead of flogging myself or even attempting to change, I believe that the best course of action is to find environments that allow me my autonomy and job snobbery whilst being low-maintenance and lucrative..A girl can haz, right?

..But He's An Asshole.

I, AVG, have a crush on someone. I'm an adult and just used the word "crush" to describe potential romantic feelings that I have for someone..Lame. I am extremely concerned by this, because I fear becoming the very type of woman that I abhor. Falling for a shitty guy is the biggest female cliche next to PMS, and I've never done it. I've never been fucked over by a man or had my life destroyed by one..Okay, okay sure I wanted to be committed a few years ago because I was in a shitty relationship but didn't have the balls to break up with the guy at the time (anxiety disorder is a mother fucker), and every girl's dealt with "the guy that disappears", but for the most part, I haven't had many wrist-slitting experiences thanks to men..

Now, this "guy" is a dick. I'm sure he has nice qualities, but in terms of psychological profiles of the men that I'm mostly attracted to, "dick" is not it. I like nice guys that treat me well and have the sensitive qualities that I lack. Men with feelings. Not pansies, but men that are in touch with the softer side of life, I guess..I can't explain it in any other way except that I like nice guys. But every now and again, something strange happens...Planets align and I find myself intensely soul-connectedly attracted to dudes that are more like me..Douchebags. Lascivious men that spend too much time on the fringes..Philanderers, womanizers and druggies. Narcissistic men that have no place anywhere near me. Those are the ones that do a number on me. It's easy to get swept up in the current of a narcissist. They're alluring. There's something intoxicating about someone who has no concern for other people. It's a symbol of utter freedom that most people wish that they possessed. Narcissists take pleasure in draining the emotional well being out of others. The best way to drive a narc. insane is to ignore them or treat them as though they aren't special.

Back to my original point..I am disturbed by my attraction to this man, and know that to even remotely entertain anything outside of friendship would be sooo goddamn bad. So I am not going there. I am going to stay the course of nice men that take me out to dinner, fucking good friends and maintaining my sanity.

A Misanthrope's Guide To: DATING.

So lately, I've been thinking about a certain dichotomy. I've been single for over two years, and when I say single, I mean that I haven't been in a committed relationship or dated someone seriously. I've fucked, sucked and gone out on an insane amount of dates, but I haven't settled down with just one person. Now this is due in part to a few things. Breakups are painful as fuck, and I swore that I would not commit to one person unless the pain and agony that is breaking up could pail in comparison to being with them. Also, I'm not a people-person. I have friends and I can interact with people just fine, but I don't actually LIKE "people". Recently I've been thinking about whether or not I am ready to seriously date someone. Not that I'm on the hunt or anything, but I like to do inventory of myself and chart my progress in life. And I think that I could finally be ready to date. Yet, here's the conundrum. How does someone who "isn't a people-person" even begin to date..a person? Can I deal with someone else's insanity while subjecting them to mine? Can I stop being a loner long enough to allow someone else in my space? Whenever I think about being in a relationship, I begin to shake and have flashbacks like a Vietnam war vet. I guess it isn't so bad when you're dating someone that you're compatible with, but until that day comes, I'm just going to enjoy the misanthropy and bachelorette-hood and continue to get Facebook messages from past fuck partners like this:

From The Fucked Up Files Of..: SOUL DECISION.

The big 2-5 is nearing closer and closer, and as I contemplate ways to not go gentle into that good night, I am consumed with longing for the days of yore. The days when all I had to be concerned with were getting kicked out of Prep School, or my house..Actually, I don't miss THOSE days and am actually quite pleased with my adult life, but you get it. While detangling my lion's mane in the shower, I thought about the different things that I enjoyed in middle school. And that's when a song came flooding into my mind like that last great one. "Faded" by Soul Decision.

"Faded" is an audial masterpiece that touches on the very sensitive subject of trying to hook up with a friend of the opposite sex when you're fucked up. Although I was in middle school when this song first dropped, I think that I instinctively knew that I would one day be able to relate. I remember Aja Johnson made me a mix of songs that were hot at the time, and OF COURSE "Faded" was on it. Soul Decision went on to have another semi-hit with "Ooh It's Kinda Crazy":

"Ooh It's Kinda Crazy" worked the "stop playing with my emotions you, fickle bitch!" angle. I loved it. I was really hoping that Soul Decision would go on to be a more mature BSB or NSYNC, but I knew deep down that it could never be..They've since disbanded and died horrible deaths. Maybe. I don't know, they probably live in the valley somewhere and make jingles for kitty litter. Either way, they will always have a place in my mental middle school nostalgia scrapbook.

HOT PIECE OF THE DAY: Marc From Barcelona.

I'm not really sure any words are needed.

Maybe I can get a discount on the air fare to Barcelona if I book it early. Fuck an in-flight meal, I'll take the swollen, throat clogging merguez that is this man's cock once I land.

THE WALKING SNOOZE....

So, I loved the first season of The Walking Dead. It was interesting, intense and it introduced me to the sexy Andrew Lincoln (seen here giving me the "shaft, meet tonsils" face):

I was hooked. So upon discovery (and not the least bit of surprise) that it was picked up for a second season, I was BEYOND jazzed. But I must confess, and excuse me if I offend...THIS SEASON FUCKING SUUUCCKKKSSSSSS!!!!!!! What in the fuck happened? Oh, that's right, they fired one of their lead writers or something..I get it. An apocalypse is taxing on peeps..but really? Do we have to spend half of the goddamn season looking for a stupid inbred girl who couldn't follow Officer Cum-Fuck-Me's simple instructions of "stay your dumb inbred girl-ass here"?! I'm sorry, but I'm on Team Sex-Me Shane's on this one..Shane is really growing on me. His undying loyalty to Lame-Ass Lori is wearing on me, though. I HATE her..and here are a few reasons why:

1.She reminds me of a girl that's now dating someone that I was super into, but knew it could never be: We've all had those situations..You're soo into someone, there's mutual fascination/chemistry, but you know that you're a hot mess that would do nothing but bring pain and agony into their lives i.e. curse their family out on a trip to the beach, smash every single one of their friends or something...So now I have an innate grudge against any bitch that even REMOTELY resemebles this guy's girlfriend..And Lori does..

2.She's a disloyal cunt: Dead husband or not..You do NOT fuck your husband's friend!!!! Whether he's dead, you divorced or you're just dying to get deep-dicked by his hot BFF, that's a goddamn NO!! Sucia-ass-slut is what Lori is, and I cannot respect a bitch like that. I will give her props on her secret keeping skills, though. It reminds me of the time this guy I used to "see" and I had to pretend we didn't REALLY know each other around an ex because they happened to be BFFs..It happened before the ex and I met, but how do you tell your current bf that his bestie saw you in bondage at a fetish party? YOU DON'T.

3.Lori's attitude is annoying: She is just lame. Bottom line. She's tough, but in an ice queen way, not an "OMG I HAVE TO HOLD IT TOGETHER" way...

4.She gets to mouth fuck on Andrew Lincoln: DONE.

I really need one of the principle actors to die. Not Shane, Darrel or Officer Cum-Fuck-Me..They must live on and on until there's a sexy three-way between them..Yes, I'm into that. My first choice is Lori, for obvious reasons. Second is Dale. He's getting on my fucking nerves with his overprotective shit and constant need to make Andrea feel good. I mean for fuck's sake, she shot Darrel!!! She FINALLY learns how to shoot a gun and, like stupid inbred Sophia, refused to listen to Officer Cum-Fuck-Me and SHOT DARREL..No delay, let's fucking axe her too, right along with Dale. Better yet, let's have a Walker bite Dale, he turn instantaneously and then bites Andrea's whiney face off. Then, let's just get rid of Carl..Fucking Carl. I just don't like the actor that plays him. T-Dawg can live, as long as he cuts the "everyone's a racist" shit. Glen is awesome, so he stays too. Oh wait, we have to kill Sophia's mom! Okay, she can find what's left of Sophia after meeting a few Walkers, which will of course be simply "eyes without a faacceee!!", and then she'll kill herself. Problems. Solved.

Walking Dead, I'm going to need you to step it the FUCK up. I can't keep spending $2.99 at iTunes just to rub one out while watching Andrew lincoln's character dissolve into a blubbering mess. Give Rick some more backbone, to hell with Sophia and let's kill off everyone except the above mentioned..

Sincerely,

AVG

A. Sav's Amazing Dream.

"First of all number 1, it was a crazy dope sex dream and you 

worked at this super fancy hotel which I was randomly staying in. 

You were a cocktail waitress all dressed up...........

And I decided to stay there to just have a night away from whoever I was kinda dating. 

Don't ask why it was a dream. 

And I had a bottle of red, champagne and kettle. 

• So y

  ou got cut from your shift and I had never stayed here before. So you were nice to show me to my room
• We took this insane elevator for what seemed like 20 minutes
• And finally we arrive at my floor. We get one foot into this room which is amazing and we start making out like crazy
• I mean crazy crazy
• I rip your cocktail outfit off. I have sex with you like a billion times. And then there is a knock at the door
• And it's this girl I was dating. I hear her yelling my name and she saying she knows I am there with someone and the scent of sex is all over the hall. Ummm rad yes I know. Anyway
• I hide in the bathroom and you answer completely disheveled and tell her you don't know me and that she has the wrong room.
• She leaves and I realize I have to get the fuck out of the hotel
• So I crawl like a snake on my belly thru the hotel so no one sees me. Odd I know
• But I can't get out of there and now. There is no exit
  
  

  
  

  
  

  • And just as this chick see me and runs towards me you grab me and pull me Into some hidden room and demand my attention and call me an ass for havin sex with you and running out the door
  • So I try and explain but it's a dream and can't
  • And then we make out more and I awake after it's done and just had a mini heart attack and can't sleep
  • Jesus"