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Blink-182, The Epilogue

23 Mar

I.

The first band I ever saw live was Blink-182.

I was in the 8th grade. The concert was in Burlington, VT. And I went with my girlfriend at the time (whose name was Paige).

Paige had acquired pretty good seats. Actually, the location of the seats was excellent, but the people sitting in the neighboring seats were Paige’s parents, which was less excellent and proved problematic for the following reasons:

First, I felt internally pressured to kiss Paige. (My brain kept saying: “Yo dude, you should be kissing Paige!!”) Like most 8th-grade boys, I was under the impression that if you kissed your girlfriend in public, it meant you were cool, and if you didn’t, it meant that you were “frigid” (which is the word Vermont kids used instead of “prude” (the reason for this remains unclear)). However, while every teen movie I had ever watched suggested that I was supposed to be sucking Paige’s face, I was also pretty sure that sucking Paige’s face in front of Paige’s parents was not a good idea. I was conflicted.

In the end, I opted not to suck Paige’s face.

Second, in between songs, Blink-182 made several jokes. These jokes generally revolved around blow jobs, farts, fornicating with other people’s mothers, Vermont maple syrup, or some combination thereof. As an 8th-grader, I thought these jokes were very, very funny. I wanted to laugh. But, again, I was pretty sure that it was not a good idea to laugh about maple-syrup fellatio in the vicinity of the unamused parents of Paige.

So I didn’t.

Lastly, and most of all, what I really wanted to do was rock the fuck out. I wanted bang my head, jump around, sing loudly, and act like an idiot at a rock show. But I refrained from these activities for similar reasons.

In conclusion, the concert was phenomenal. I’ll never forget it. That being said, Paige and I broke up the following week.

.

II.

A month prior to the concert, my parents approached me after school and said, “We need to talk.”

(Foreshadowing: This is never a good sign. If your parents say “We need to talk” what they really mean is: “It has come to our intention that you’ve done something bad. We’re going to confront you about it now. Be afraid.”)

And I was afraid.

The three of us sat in the living room. I sat in the middle.

My dad did most of the talking. He handed me a stack of photocopied papers and said, “I’d like you to read out loud what that says.”

When I looked at the pages, I discovered that they were photocopies of the lyrics from Blink-182’s latest album, Take Off Your Pants And Jacket. The page on top–the page my father wanted me to read out loud–contained the lyrics to the song “Happy Holidays, You Bastard.”

So, with my mother sitting next to me, I recited all of the following words:

It’s Christmas Eve and I’ve only wrapped two fuckin’ presents
It`s Christmas Eve and I’ve only wrapped two fuckin’ presents
And I hate, hate, hate your guts,
I hate, hate, hate your guts,
And I’ll never talk to you again…
Unless your dad will suck me off
(I’ll never talk to you again)
Unless your mom will touch my cock
(I’ll never talk to you again)
Ejaculate into a sock
(I’ll never talk to you again)
I’ll never talk to you again

It’s Labor day and my grandpa just ate seven fuckin’ hot dogs
It`s Labor day and my grandpa just ate seven fuckin’ hot dogs
And he shit, shit, shit his pants.
He’s always fuckin’ shittin’ his pants
And I’ll never talk to you again…
Unless your dad will suck me off
(I’ll never talk to you again)
Unless your mom will touch my cock
(I’ll never talk to you again)
Ejaculate into a sock
(I’ll never talk to you again)
I’ll never talk to you again

Yes. That happened. My dad then asked me to read the lyrics for two other songs (“Shut Up” and “Anthem, Pt. II”) and asked me what I thought about them. We then had a long talk about whether or not I was being corrupted by the questionable content of Blink’s music.

But that part of the story isn’t that interesting.

What is interesting is why these lyrics had been photocopied.

It turns out my father, upon hearing of my plans to attend my first ever concert, grew concerned. He had never heard of these Blink-182 characters. So he went to the local record store and purchased their most recent album… on cassette. The problem, of course, was that the cassette-sized liner notes were particularly small, and his vision is particularly bad, and his hearing is equally impaired, and so, between being half-deaf and half-blind, my father had no way of telling what the hell Mark and Tom were actually saying. Naturally, he decided to solve this problem by taking the cassette liner notes to Staples and having them enlarged at the copy center.

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