Something my guitarist and I threw together in an hour.
8 years agosouthparkboy
So, my last band fell to shit. They decided to do metal. My new band, however, won a competition recently. Out of one hundred bands, ten were chosen for a chance to compete in a state wide battle of the bands. Here is the performance that won us this honor. (Make sure you click the link instead of watching it on this page.) Please note, we're just fucking with the crowd at the beginning. We don't suck ass. If you don't feel like watching the whole set, you should check out Little Green Man and The Chicken Song. Either way, we'd appreciate any number of views.
9 years agosouthparkboy
My band and I have all been working hard these past few months, and we recently premeried several of our original songs at a local bar. Please take the time to watch the videos. Any feedback is appreciated.
Part 1: www.youtube.com/watch?v=owYxhzUxxDA
Part 2: www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMXKfg0DAwo
Part 3: www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNfTw7MekgM
Part 4: www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5yoBuCWnaQ
Part 5: www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lhLTDSIyEg
Part 6: www.youtube.com/watch?v=GT8j5fU17jk
9 years agosouthparkboy
We all pile out of the car. Four friends, eager to try something new. Behind a local convenience store in the dead of night, with nothing but a street lamp to guide us, we decide we will fight.
"You sure you want to do this, man?" I say to my friend. His, long, skinny body has good reach, and I'm unsure of what I can do with him.
"Yeah man... Let's do this." Our two other friends take a seat on the car, eager to see the outcome. I slip off my shoes and my jacket. I check my pockets for any objects that could interfere with the fight. I remember my phone and slip it in my jacket pocket. I set my belongings in the front passenger seat of the car.
My skinny friend raises his fists at me, ready to fight.
"Hold on," I say, "Take off your belt." His belt had a large metal buckle that I could easily break my hand on. He takes it off and sets it on top of the car.
"Since we're doing that..." He places his phone and class ring on the car as well. I request that he takes off his hat, and he does so.
I'm prepared now. I take a deep breath and get ready to throw down. My skinny friend's hair falls into his eyes. He asks if he can wear his hat, and I tell him it's fine. I take another moment to prepare myself for this brawl. He extends his hand towards mine, and we shake. Looking each other in the eyes, we both know exactly what we're about to do. I throw the first punch, then he follows immediately after.
The longer we go, the more intense things start to get. We swing fists like madmen. I begin to hear nothing of the outside world. This was the same high I got from wrestling, only now it felt more real. I throw a few punches, coming closer to his jaw each time. He socks me upside the head, and I grimace. I ignore the pain and keep going.
A kick near his teeth makes him curse. People always told me I had flexible legs. He gets in close, but I let him know his mistake by giving him a knee to his ribs. He coughs in pain as he swings for my face, but I dodge it, delivering a blow to his. Catching his breath, he swings a right hook at my side that I snatch with my hand. Pulling it close to my chest, he is now crippled. I swing my right fist to his sternum, and I hear a loud thud.
"AH! Fuck! Hold on!" His screams rip through the darkness. I step back and we take a break from the fighting.
"Do you feel saved?" I mock him.
"Not yet man.. Hold on.." He spits what I thought to be a tooth onto the ground.
"Jesus... I did that?"
"No... Just my gum. I don't wanna choke on it." Our bystander friends erupt in a cacophony of laughter.
"You good then, man?" I ask, holding my fists up. He swings again at my ribs. I take that as a yes.
I hunch over in pain, barely dodging a kick he aims at my face. I had the courtesy to take my shoes off, but he felt it was necessary to leave his on. I let him know how I feel about this.
I come to his side with a right hook. My left arm wraps around his body, holding him close. I begin to pound punch after punch into his ribs. Feeling scared for his own safety, he uses all his strength to break my grip on hip and starts to back away.
I give him no chance to run as I grab his arm again. Pulled close, I get him in a headlock and bend him over. I jab a few elbows to his back, but his bony little hands keep pounding into my ribs. I fight through the pain long enough to deliver a knee to his jaw. He falls back, shouting stop. I feel blood trickle down my knee, but I don't know if it's his or my own.
Sitting on the ground, he spits up blood as he starts to speak. "I don't think my teeth are straight anymore, man."
I pull up my pants leg and see the bite mark he had left on me. A ruby red stream trickles down my leg.
"Cool. You two gonna fight?" I look to our bystander friends.
"I would," says the bigger of the two, "but I'm afraid I'd kill him."
The smaller looks offended, but to hide his shame, excuses himself. "I don't believe in it," he says.
We all pile back into the parked car. My ribs burn, and driving off into the night, I can imagine the other guy doesn't feel much better.
At home, I stare into the mirror. I had cut weight. I was lean, muscular. This was a better body, but still not perfect. The bruises on my ribs were sensitive to the touch, but I felt like a god amongst men. Sure, I had based my beliefs off a film I had seen, but it was all true. After a fight, you honestly do feel saved.
For the next few hours, I had nothing on my mind. I had gone blank. I found an escape.
Is this what society wanted me to do? Maybe not, but I'm a black sheep, what do I care? This is the world I will create. If I want to swing fists at my friends, so be it. People always followed me, no matter what. No matter how crazy my suggestions were, people went along. I will lead these sheep. They will become wolves one day.
I prod my ribs again and pain shoots up my side. I forget all my thoughts, and drift into my own little world again. I was free. I sat down on my couch and stared at the ceiling. Devoid of thought, I am nothing. Sitting alone in my house, beaten and bruised, I feel free.
9 years agosouthparkboy
THE MIND OF A SOCIAL REJECT
I step out of the shower, tired and cleansed. I look into the mirror. This body... My body. This imperfect body of mine. I flex my abs to see if I can satisfy my need for self improvement, but see nothing that pleases me. I pull my skin tight and notice a bit of difference. This is not what I want, however. I want to look like Michelangelo himself sculpted me out of marble. I let go, and breathe out heavily. Those two Krispy Kreme donuts I shoved into my face surly offset the crunches I had done before my shower. Why must I contradict my own actions?
I get closer to the mirror to look at my face. It looks clean and unscathed except for the scar under my right eye. I looked like an innocent kid who hasn't seen anything of this world. I know this is true, in a sense. My mind has been pushed beyond breaking point, but my body is barely ever strained. I punch myself in the cheek with my right hand. It stings. Staring into the mirror, I see tears forming in my eyes. I tell myself it doesn't hurt, and I do it again. The second time pains me more. I want to harm myself, but just enough to leave a mark. A bruise on my cheek to raise questions, giving people vague answers about how I got it. Not lying to them, but not telling the whole truth.
I look to the top of my nose and peel off a scab that had formed from wrestling. Blood trickles down my face. This is what I want. This makes me look like I'm someone who you don't want to meet in a dark alley. I think of how I got the cut a week before at practice. Wrestling was my personal Fight Club. Sometimes I just needed to let myself go, and wrestling let me do that. When I stepped into the ring, I felt like I was Tyler Durden himself. After every match, I felt like a new person. It didn't matter to me if I won or lost. Just showing that I could last six minutes with another man made me feel an odd sense of pride.
I started to slip on my clothes. "'This is not vengeance, this is Punishment.'" I mutter under my breath, putting on a shirt that mimics that of my comic book idol. I had forgotten about my nose and had now smeared blood all over my face and shirt. I thought to clean it off, but saw no reason to. It made me look cool, so I left the bathroom feeling like a warrior.
Walking through my house, I began to think. Maybe I'm not special. Maybe I am just a freak. People always called me different, but was that a good thing? Was I a lone wolf scaring the flock, or just a black sheep who didn't belong. In all honesty, I wanted to be a wolf. I wanted to take all those sheep and bark at them and bite at their throats, letting them know who I am and what I wanted. Then I wanted them to follow me. I wanted to lead them out of the safety of the shepherd's land and into the forest. I wanted to show them how to fend for themselves, how to hunt, how to fight, how to survive. I wanted them to do more than breathe, I wanted them to live.
I knew in my heart, however, none of this was so. I was just the black sheep. But then why were people so eager to follow me? I could tell enough people something and they would all accept it as truth and submit to my will. Maybe I was just the black sheep, but I wanted to be a wolf. I wanted to train them all to be something we were not, hoping that someday we could become that which we could never be.
I thought back to a few days prior at school. I had brought a guitar in for a project, and I began to play it in the halls. Skipping merrily from class to class, I never felt like more of an outcast. I knew what I was doing was odd, but I was enjoying myself. I expected strange looks, but received none. By the end of the day, I had a crowd of at least thirty kids skipping with me, and the rest of the school cheering as I passed.
Was this the affect I had on people? Could I really get them to follow me that easily? Am I that good at swaying emotions, or was this just conformity? Did they just want to do what someone else was doing? I thought back farther, and I noticed all the times this had happened. I grow my hair long, others make fun of me at first, then people follow suit. I get exiled for being a gamer, then the whole football team is asking me for tips on Halo. People seemed to follow me... But why? I thought about it for another moment, then I realized I had been standing in my living room staring at the wall for five minutes.
My mother asked me if I was okay.
"Yeah," I replied, still in my own world. "I think I just need to lie down." I went upstairs to my room and did just that. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was more special than I wanted to tell myself.
"Fuck it," I thought aloud, "I'll worry about that shit later."
10 years agosouthparkboy
The first video I've discovered recently is The YES Dance. It seems to be a bit of an older video, but my god is it funny.
The second thing I would like to share is another Jon LaJoie video. It's called the Bastard Break Up. It is exactly what it sounds like.
The last video I have to share is Completely Uncalled For. I found this video a very long time ago, but a good friend of mine reminded me of it the other day.
That's all I have to share this week. If anyone finds anything golden, let me know, and I'll give credit where it's due.