Me, from the point of view of my dad.

I have been experiencing a dilemma lately...
I am almost 100% sure my parents are completely convinced that I've chosen the life path of a Satan Worshipper. I feel kinda sorry for my dad.

Picture this:
You are sitting at your kitchen counter, setting up meetings on your computer, as you work from home. As a 40 year old man with a relatively stable job, a wife, and two kids, you're feeling rather proud of how nothing turned out too horribly fucked up.

Then your teenage daughter walks into the door, blasting her satanic black metal from headphones that she probably shoplifted. She's just arriving home from a most likely very unproductive day at school. She slams the front door behind her, throws her school bags onto the floor, quickly says hello to you, and runs to her room. After all, she does have social anxiety, and if she looks at you for too long she'll have a panic attack and probably start screaming.

"Naw, fuck. I forgot about that girl", you think to yourself.

Hours go by. Slowly, with the girl secluded in her room, you begin to feel secure about your life again.

Then, suddenly, your daughter appears again. She's clothed in so many too-big sweaters, she looks like an obese, mildly retarded oompa loompa.

DAD, I'M HUNGRY! she screeches in her voice that's been just barely tainted with a Long Island accent. She gets that from her mother.

Oh god, she's left her bedroom door open. You know exactly what that means. Now you can hear those dirty old men, screaming about the devil and blood and sex and tattoos. Why does she idolize those people? Ska is so much better anyway. But, for some reason, she always has loud, obnoxious music blasting from her room. It quite literally never stops. Even when she's sleeping, if you sneak into her room and turn it off, she will wake up as soon as it stops and verbally beat the shit out of you.

Locks of her perpetually color changing hair peek out from under her beanie. Why does that beanie always smell like pot? Why does she always smell like pot?

After you've watched the young girl go through your entire food supply, picking out all the things that look edible to her, she slithers back into her lair. After all, dangerous animals usually don't bite unless they are provoked.

Yep. I have a Satan Worshipper for a daughter. You've accepted the fact. You begin to look back on past conversations you've had with her. You recall her wanting to be a tattoo artist, a death metal vocalist, an astronaut, and a unicorn. You can't seem to remember her ever saying she wanted to join a satanic cult, but hey, the girl is good at keeping secrets. You shudder at the thought of that one secret she kept from you- the one that involved her dating a kid almost five years older than her.

You stare at the laminate countertops in your kitchen, the nicely painted walls, and the relatively nice furniture you have in your home. With your eyes half closed, you wonder where the fuck you went wrong while raising that girl. What a hilariously dysfunctional family you have.

Happy Halloween + drawing

I didn't exactly think of a costume fast enough this year. So, this morning, I had to improvise. I'm a stripper, off-duty, which is why I'm wearing clothes and glitter and dark lipstick.

 Also, I drew this person over the criteria for an art project we're currently working on. We were just kinda practicing proportion, and all we had to do was a few little features on the face.
Woops.

I'm not even done yet!

Black metal funnies!

I wanna go to that forest...

heh.....Krakow, 2004.....

Sucks for you....

shouldn't he be head banging?

I'd bet this would actually work as a logo.

es grumpeh cat!

HAHAHA DARK HUMOR

this made me laugh for about ten minutes straight

Again, Krakow 2004.

es grumpeh cat again, with corpse paint!

'

this is a serious problem.

THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE

hehehe......

that goat's head is gonna be on a stake soon.

I HAD NO IDEA THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED

ANOTHER SERIOUS PROBLEM

BORING DISCLAIMER

I found all this crap on google images. It's just stuff that made me laugh, I don't own any of it.

Reasons to avoid being normal

Being strange is the basis of all things wonderful.

I know this for a fact, I've proved it quite a few times.

I am currently sitting on the floor of my English class, listening to various Punk Goes Pop songs with my bestest friend of all time, Alix. I have a link to her blog in my 'about me' page. Anyway, we do not classify as normal. We could probably qualify as the exact opposite. We could possibly be known as sociopathic colorful monster girls who wear cool pants. I don't know, but I do know that we are freaking awesome. And weird. Very weird.

This is why being weird is a necessity of life.

1. You entertain yourself endlessly.

2. You entertain others endlessly

3. You learn how to be confident with your weird ass self

4. Boring people will be jealous of you

5. You will be awesome

6. You will be able to have awesome pants in public

7. All the pictures you take will be awesome!

FOR EXAMPLE:

FUCK THIS!

 DO THIS INSTEAD!

KEEP BEING WEIRD!

My very favorite bands

I've decided to come back almost a year after I originally posted this to edit it and make it less stupid.

I listen mostly to grunge, progressive death metal, alternative rock, hard rock, melodic death metal, and some black metal when I'm feeling norwegian.
These are the bands I listen to the mostest.

Children of Bodom 

(death metal)

 Seether
(my all time favorite band) 
(nu metal/hard rock/grunge)

Meshuggah 

(progressive death metal)

Morbid Angel 

(death metal)

Alter Bridge 

(hard rock)

Pink Floyd 

(60's rock/psychedelic rock)

Billy Talent 

(punk)

Motionless in White 

(screamo)

Darkthrone 

(black metal)

Cannibal Corpse 

(death metal)

Jimi Hendrix 

(this is just his signature, that guy didn't even need a logo) 

(If you don't know what genre Jimi Hendrix is then you need to look in the mirror, stare into your own reflection, and tell yourself what a horrible person you are)

The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus 

(post-hardcore)

A Day to Remember 

(screamo/pop-punk)

Green Day 

(punk)

Rise Against 

(punk)

Nirvana 

(grunge)

Decapitated 

(progressive death metal)

Gorgoroth 

(black metal)

Slipknot 

(nu metal/progressive death metal)

Chelsea Grin 

(progressive death metal)

Type O Negative

(hard rock)

Nocturnal Depression

(black metal/doom metal)

Red Hot Chili Peppers

(alternative rock or whatever I don't really know)

Weezer

(90's alternative rock or something)

Radiohead

(alternative rock/soft rock/weird ass independent rock)

The stages of writing the best song ever

As I have mentioned before, I write my own music. Sometimes, it comes very easily to me. I don't even need to think! It's as if the magical song-writing fairy just crawled through my ear canal and into my brain and bestowed upon me the very essence of her being.

Then there are times where I kinda know something's there. It's as if the magical song-writing fairy crawled halfway through my ear, spit into my skull just barely missing my brain, and crawled back out. Then I'm forced to write it without the help of some genius fairy creature.

That's what I will be telling you about today. The stages of writing a song, with a little mental block.

REALIZATION 

YOU HAVE AN IDEA! You don't quite know what it is yet or how it'll turn out, but it's an idea, and you shall love and nurture your idea-baby until it is a full grown actual thing.

ACTION

You sit down. It'll come to you. Don't worry about it. THIS IS GOING TO BE THE BEST SONG EVER.

SYSTEM ERROR

You can't think of anything. Why can't you think of anything? You are stupid. You are dirt. You need motivation. 

You need a snack....

PROCRASTINATION

You convince yourself that you are being productive. Yes, this third bag of cheetos will help me think. Of course contemplating the science of how slugs move will help me write a song! 

You are a slave to your own urges. You know you have to finish that damn song, but you really know that watching one more season of Friends on Netflix will get your creative juices flowing.

GUILT

The inevitable feelings of WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH YOUR LIFE begin to occur. The anxiety hits you right in the gut, along with all the processed food you just ate. YOU MUST START WRITING NOW OR YOU WILL NEVER BE SUCCESSFUL AND NOBODY WILL EVER LOVE YOU.

EVER.

DO EVERYTHING

And suddenly, within two hours, you have a complete song that you are happy with.

It was that easy?

Are you frigging kidding me?

You are slightly angry at the fact that you found it so hard to write a few verses, but you are also relieved, as this means that you accomplished what you intended to accomplish and now you can eat and sleep without that lingering feeling that you have to finish that damn song.

So I know I made this post rather humorous, but seriously, this a predicament I face at least on a weekly basis. What I didn't include was actually my go-to help mechanism for when I used to have severe mental block and when I was too young to deal with my problems by myself and with my incredibly non-musical family. My old piano teacher, who got me started in piano competitions and supported me in my decision to begin with my own music when I was 12, Genevieve Brings. Sadly, I had to stop being her student when I moved from Connecticut to Utah. Although I've basically been teaching myself everything since I was 6, Genevieve helped me get to where I am now. Thanks, Mrs. Brings!

By the way, I drew all those pictures. I am a Paint master.