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I'm
sitting here at my nice, proper, respectable job in blueblood,
rural Connecticut laughing my fuckin ass off at just how much
life changes in 15 years and how pathetically SUBURBAN I have
become.
God Squad holed up in a shitty practice space adorned with Ed's
artwork (which all bear an uncanny resemblance to him...hmmm)
above an upolstery shop in PUKE-lid Ohio (that's Euclid for
you West Siders). The gold metal christmas tree decorated with
Old Swillwaukee cans glimmers brightly against the cheap wood
paneling (in July of course). Drunk and stoned again the usual
antics will follow. At some point Lou Vogel will have me pierce
some portion of his anatomy, Mark R "hiiiii, how ya doin"
will entice all the 15 yr girlies to "take a walk"
with him, Ed (Edvis) inevitably trippin results in one of two
things, bludgeoning some dumb jock with a mic stand in front
of Cebars OR running amuck in his usual paranoid manner, swiping
at his pork chop burns, spewing off some philispohical rehtoric
about civil war economics. (I have to say if it weren't for
Ed I probably would have failed World History in 10th grade,
then again if it weren't for Ed I probably wouldn't have been
failing in the first place). The brothers Jecovalic bring there
own special brand of humor to the room with Bob wailing on his
guitar and drinkin more Vodka than humanly possible, Tom and
John there to cheer him on. Mike Sukys sits and broods with
angst in the corner trying to look mean...but he is so punk-a-licious
he could sit on a pile of shit and still be sexy as all hell.
So many stories, so many stories I can't remember, so many I'm
not sure I want to remember..."You are the world's worst
driver", "Nick of Wax", "Susan's got a new
boyfriend", JCU Muffies, JB's Down flooded as usual, Larry
Lewis. The list goes on and on. |
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| So
it's '87 and The God Squad is coming down to Ohio State to play
a show at singer Mark Furious' college house. For one reason
or another Bobby J's guitar amp is not working, so Mark's roommate
Joe reluctantly agrees to letting him borrow his vintage '69
Fender Super Reverb. Joe carefully sets all the knobs very nervously.
The split second Joe turns to walk away Bobby with one fell
swoop of his finger cranks every one to 10 and starts playing.
Bob Squad is playing so fast and tight there's blood, strings,
and wood chips flying everywhere. After the show my friend asks
him, " why do you play like that?" to which he says,
"it's just a piece of wood- fuck that thing". |
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