This entry was posted on Monday, March 1st, 2010 at 10:09 pm and is filed under Humor. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
In the darkest hole, you’d be well advised
Not to plan my funeral before the body dies
I awoke with a start and wiped a drop of drool from the corner of my mouth, looking around frantically, my heart racing. After a few seconds of vertigo I regained my equilibrium enough to realize that I had fallen asleep on the living room couch; Aline had gone out for a walk with Dominick and the sizzling of pancetta in a skillet along with the brightly colored wristband Guy Fieri was wearing as he explained how to make rocked-out, steamed sea urchin with a flaming watermelon fireball spritzer had lulled me into a deep slumber.
I could set you free, rather hear the sound
Of your body breaking as I take you down
What the hell was that? The nasal, melodic voice echoed through the house and chilled my spine me as I forced air through the blurred, hazy corners of my mind. I rose, and walked groggily down the hall, the sound becoming louder as I approached the rear of the house.
Let the sun never blind your eyes
Let me sleep so my teeth don’t grind
Frowning, I opened the door to the guest bedroom, which was dark except for a thin sliver of yellow light that I traced along the floor from my toes to a walk-in closet in the back corner of the room. Although I had installed a child proof device on the handle of the door, it stood open a bit, light streaming out.
It was a closet I called my “studio”. It contained all of my guitars, recording equipment, CD collection, DVDs, records, album covers; typical man faire. I considered it my hideaway. A place where I could be alone and play music, record and basically wind down without interruption. It was my sanctuary, and it had been breeched.
I pushed the door open and my breath hissed through my teeth when I took in the scene.
My first instict was to assume that it had been ransacked, and I instictively grabbed a microphone stand and whirled around, my new weapon cocked like a baseball bat, ready to inflict a minor cut on whomever had dared enter my home.
In the darkest hole, you’d be well advised
Not to plan my funeral before the body dies
It came again, and I relaxed my stance a little. Why would burglars be playing music? It didn’t make sense. With the microphone stand still in my possession, I ventured out and down the hall to my daughter’s room, which had clearly become the source of the lyrics. They became almost deafening as I reached the door. I pushed it and it swung open with a creak, barely audible over the noise.
Much like my studio, her room was in complete disarray. I glanced about frantically, attempting to piece together what was taking place. Then, as if guided by some mysterious force, my eyes came to rest on this.
then this,
and this,
then finally on my daughter, who was not only dancing about to Alice In Chains like a manic lunatic, but was performing some type of ritual that resembled what I could only assume was a four-year-old version of moshing. While I slept, she had broken into my hallowed chambers, stolen my most sacred music, put it on her CD player and completely trashed her room in dance. She had gone crazy.
As our eyes met she froze in place, arms raised, with one foot off the ground, waiting in anticpation for what she must have thought would be the coming of the Apocalypse. Slowly, the tension in her body faded as a huge grin crept over my face before it finally gave way to gales of uncontrollable laughter. I ran to her, sweeping her up into my arms and embraced her as tears of joy streamed down my face.
My daughter was a metal head.
The Lord had blessed me, for I was home.
-Matt
Hey. There are new Misha Lulu spring fashions for girls at RedSparks. Perfect for headbanging and thrashing. Check it.
March 8th, 2010 at 9:53 am
Wow.
Thank God she didn’t find your stash of Playboys (yes, I’ve been in that closet)
On my son’s first day of school, he sat in the backseat singing Alice In Chains “Man in the box” at the top of his lungs.
At first it was funny, but I worried that he might be expressing his concern over the rigid conformity of today’s educational system. Apparently, he was feeling a bit constricted.
“I’mmmmmmmmmm da mannnnnnnn in da BOX”
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March 12th, 2010 at 8:34 am
[...] have been having some various little issues with the blog, so a friend of minehas been helping me out with them. the thing is, in my mind, “helping out” when it [...]
March 15th, 2010 at 5:35 pm
YESSSSSSSSSS!!!! Frankie, this post warms my heart. Do you want me to send you my Sebastian Bach poster????
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March 27th, 2010 at 9:29 am
Are you ever going to post again, Matt?!
Barbara´s last blog ..Toys That Teach
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March 31st, 2010 at 7:19 pm
i luuuve alice in chains too!
ed´s last blog ..I will always love him I think – March 30, 2010
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