i wanna sing in las veganles

the cop asked me if the car that just pulled into my driveway and gave me something in exchange for 2 cash bills belonged to a drug dealer. i said no and that it was a doordash driver. it was a doordash driver, the cop was a old man however and believed that delivery drivers wore polo shirts and visors to mark that they are of employ of a restaurant or some such bullshit. i showed him the app to which he recoiled cause the blue light hurt his precious little eyes.

i moved here to las veganles to find what !panic at the disco found. or should i say, what ryan ross from !panic at the disco found and i put the ! first to denote the importance of their early work's verve, eccentricity, and romantic linkage with the written word whereas uri(n)e's interpretation of the onset's vision seems outside of history and ignorant and inconsiderate of matter and meaning and i don't see anyone living or dying for urie's work unless they have a hard time grasping social cues and norms and do not understand things like love and wear a lanyard and have felt pain perhaps but don't know what to do about it and yes i pity them and have love for them as i do any human but would recommend they try LSD or something like that.

but i also moved here to las veganles to be with childhood friends who have also all asked god what ryan ross saw here in that city where we are now but were not when we were young and living in hamilton massachusetts aspiring to either be hamilton morris or ryan ross or morris day or prince rogers nelson for that matter. and all the kids at our school wanted to be bo burnham so bad, bo burnham the hometown hero. we didn't care or give a fuck. !panic was our group and they sang our songs and then they left because of reasons unbeknownst to anyone but it perhaps has to do with the dirty secret all emo and pop punk adjacent groups have to contend with which is ephebophilia which is deviant and a crime but something made so enticing by culture: like drug and alcohol abuse, like killing mentally ill people, like having sex slaves, manipulation, pimping, gambling, stocking (on the stock market), slapping people who owe you money, holding grudges, running over people, throwing grenades around the corner with disregard for who or what is in the blast radius, cheating on your gf or bf, plagiarising down, punching down, selfishness in the bedroom i.e. not wanting pussy just wanting some head, pressing RB to take cover, using the right analog stick to aim, using RT to fire, getting up from the couch to look through DVDs to watch with your mom, asking if shes seen no country for old men and getting sad when she says yes because you actually havent seen it even though you have the DVD cause it has a bit of a reputation online like screenshots of it are funny but you want to watch a movie neither of you have seen anyway to experience new things with your mom after all these years. its somethings like all of those things, and we can only hope to god brandon urine hasn't harmed any young woman or man with his sexuality, cause he looks fucking weird and fucked up, like hes a cute little emo boy but he doesnt look right.

somethings seriously wrong with you and something seriously wrong with me and my roommates who are also my childhood friends and bandmates and somethings wrong with your romantic partner and whole family too because this country is sick as well as the multinational trade union its in that has existed since the end of world war whatever so whatever country you live in except cuba iran or north korea you and your world is just so wrong and messed up and needs to be addressed. so nothings stopping us from doing whatever we want because theres no ethical art making under a bunch of bullshit. unless, that is, you are proud of the world you live in and think theres reasons to be excited about what you're doing or where you are who you are where you're going and how fast you will be there., in which case you should feel shame and be sad right now as you read this. if your servant is reading this for you, i want your servant to know i dont mean them, unless they like being your servant. servant, i dont want you to read this to your employer, but what do you think of writing like this where one addresses the reader directly? is it a charming callback/throwback to the golden age of comedian-authored potpurri style books? i certainly miss those days, when demetri martin could ramble on about things he thinks are cool, things he thinks are awesome, bands he likes, food he eats at least once a month, his favorite fragrances, his favorite shampoos, his favorite movies, his dream cars, his dream houses, his dream domestic and/or romantic partner, his take on the iraq war, his take on the dumbing down of american popular culture by way of blue collar comedy tour and carlos mencia, and his code of etiquette for messaging cute girls on myspace. furthermore what do you think of me as a person? am i sociable? do you think i could sing in a emo pop band? because that's what i'm trying to do, and you need to be sociable and nice to stand a chance during interviews and things like that.

i never asked to feel the way i do, i just did. i'm learning guitar as fast as i can, i could have picked bass but no one has ever heard of a bassist that sings, at least not in a emo pop band, maybe in a greasy and musty doom metal band, but that's not who we are or are trying to be. at least i hope not, but i trust my friends not to have that kind of taste or desire and i am sure i know that they would never ever. what does my house look like what does my car look like in my dreams? its kind of similar to how they look now give or take a few things. yet i feel sad because i have yet to create what i want to create, and so i am here – once again i am telling you this – in Las Veganles to write and perform music with my childhood friends who – once again, i believe, i am telling you this – share my creative sensibility and love of ryan ross' band !panic at the disco. and i swear to god, i do not want to be confused as being a fan of brendon urie's interpretation of the band's vision that which he has been continuing since the band's initial breakup after the release of their second album "Pretty. Odd.". as ross wrote: "i know the world's a broken bone. but melt your headaches call it home." ross is asking us to melt our headaches, to melt something often requires it to reach a high temperature. creative energy is energy, energy is heat. passion is heat. love is an energy. god is an energy. people live and die to be hot, we all wanna be hot and we want energy cause in the back of our minds we all know the world is a broken bone. it got brittle and nerdy and not hot after the scientific revolution. we're all trying to get back to the hotness that was lost after science, neoclassicism, the enlightenment etc came along and made everyone ugly. it was literally beauty standards to wear a powdered wig and look like a pregnant man in those days. what is that shit and what were they smoking and how can i call the cops on whoever is selling it.