The Day Jeremy Knew His Destiny

Let me start out with this, daylight savings rocks!

Well it’s been an intense week for me, and since I don’t really have anything to comment on today, I’m going to update you on my awesome week. Thursday was a complete disaster for me, like always, one slightly catastrophic incident after another beat me into submission finally ending in me losing an entire post Thursday night, which would have enlightened you to the tragedy I had foregone to get to that point. Fortunately for you, my torment was too much and I left my blog postless for a bit longer than usual.

Friday was pretty decent though. Halloween started me heading out to Canandaigua to shoot a few scenes from a student film I’m in. We filmed on location at this nationally renowned garden, which was pretty nice, but the best part was my cute-as-hell director who I will not elaborate on, to spare you, my faithful few readers, from the endorphin induced stomach retching poetic imagery I’m inclined to write about her. You’re goddamn welcome.

Following that, hit up good ol’ Rock Ventures for a bit of rock climbing, which I recommend to everyone. It has turned into my favorite recreation, I can choose whether I want to be challenged, or just have fun on any route, and getting to the top of these walls with just finger holds is a great feeling of accomplishment, almost as good as the feeling of releasing my hate upon you all a couple times weekly. Plus my arms and shoulders are getting a great workout and I’m getting sexier by the day.

Finished off Halloween by heading out to the Bug Jar, a local joint showcasing live music of somewhat questionable listenability, and $2 Rolling Rocks. But the best part of that night was chilling outside, talking to a pimp and getting stumbling ass drunk as a Gay Cowboy.

If you think that was a fun night, Saturday wins the prize. After a quick shift at RV, followed by some rock climbing with Britt and refueling ourselves with greasy, garlicky, buttery, cheesy, barbequed and wholly innutritious fried chicken and motz-sticks that pass as acceptable Papa John appetizers, we headed out to the Montage for a night of rock star mayhem.

Gonculator kicks ass, and it’s not Hogan’s. A local power-pop band from Fredonia, who not only know how to use their instruments as perfect tools of godlike musical wonder, but have the energy and stage presence to command an entire crowed of drunken and highly ruly patrons that unfortunately did not pack the Montage to the level their performance clearly deserved. Their show, one of five, is the pinnacle of rock band stardom beginnings. After the show, we hung out with the band, praised their head banging talent, commented on the lead singers pink wings, and drank the night away, shot after shot after mind melting shot.

Between other sets and drinks when we needed a groove band and alcoholic reprieve, we hit on Toni, the best and best looking bartender ever to hand me a Blue Bottle and discounted shots. But partying with rock stars comes with its price, as anyone who ever hung around Chad Kroeger I’m sure knows. Ours was being hit on by some of the more colorful and drunker ladies that were circling the drain of total drunken inhalation. BJ almost got raped, Britt I’m sure is a bit bruised from the constant barrage of punches he received each time someone (pretty much me) said anything funny to the inebriated lady at his side, and I ended up making face thanks to the regrettable tendency to lose one’s misjudgment while in the company of Jameson.

Capped off the night with a few parting words to the closing manager of the Montage as we rushed out leaving the contents of someone’s stomach hopefully all in the porcelain throne and proceeded to get lost in Rochester. Stopping not so quickly at McDonald’s to pick of some fries which later managed to fuse themselves to the side of my Jeep with the help of stomach acid and face numbing 40 mph wind as we cruised back home.

The next anticipated night of rock star mayhem is December 1, when Gonculator will return to the Montage. And this time we are promoting the fuck out of the show. If you live in the Rochester area, look for fliers, return here and check out Methodical Madness for more info, spread the word. We will see you Dec 1. Rock On!

Always trust your instincts, they will never fail you, unless you are Britt.

Second parting side note: I forgot to mention theres a cutie working at Rock Ventures. I'm coming for you, be ready.