Titus Again (at the Black Cat w/ Lucero)

So of my 17 posts, 3 are about Titus. I can't help it. They're so fucking good. And of all the bands they could play with, they picked a damn good one. Lucero is a group that I've never really gotten into, but they seem to always be in the peripheral of my musical senses. Not that that makes any sense whatsoever. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've never gone on a binge on which all I do is listen to Lucero for 2 days or a week, but I've always listened to them, 5-6 plays a week or so. Anyway, Titus is just going to blow everyone's mind. I'll be surprised if they don't exceed my expectations, which is surprising because they are really fucking high.

BEST O'S GAME EVER!!!!!!

Friday night, best Orioles game ever. O's won 5-4, after some serious tension in the top of the ninth, and we saw a fight - firstly, it started when one guy threw another about four rows down and five seats to the right. Then, the second guy's friend punched the first guy right in the face, which resulted in immediate retalliation. At one point, the first guy was choking the third guy, so someone pulled them apart, and the first guy turned around like the fight was over. The third guy got up slowly, drew back his arm, and whacked the first guy as hard as he possibly could in the back of the head, and the whole thing started back up again. Later, we discovered that all black people say pluck instead of flick. I'm not really sure how it came up, but we asked 4 random black guys out on the street and each one said pluck (when we flicked a 5th guy, he tried to tell us we were flashing him a gang sign). We then continued the experiment with 4 white people, who all said flick. Then, quite randomly and unexpectedly, a half-black woman stepped up and said she uses them interchangably. There is no way that's just a coincidence.

Remember That One Time Mike Bit Me So I Choked His Ass?

I have to start off by saying most of this shit is just what I remember. That doesn't mean it happened. I really did just make some of this stuff up. Also, I tried to be impartial, but I know it's pretty biased. Finally, I wrote this paper for school, so it had to be both interesting and devoid of anything incriminating or that puts me in a bad light. Enjoy

The most vicious and, some would say, only fight of my life (actually I had one other btw) started over what now seems such a trivial matter, but at the time was one of my biggest fears: exclusion. It started like any other time my brother Brooks and I would hang out with our friends Will and Mike, who are brothers and have been friends with my brother and me since birth. Mike would call Will a loser with no life, so Will would hit Mike, and Mike would either a)tell on him to their parents (which was rarely effective because their parents were extremely lenient in their punishments) or b)hit Will with a baseball bat (only happened once but still). As I recall this was a time that their parents believed no punishment was necessary, so we were able to actually spend an entire night without any parental interference. The most fun thing to do was always building forts with chairs, blankets, and anything else that was lying around. So we built our fort, and, for some reason, Will, Mike, and Brooks decided it would be hilarious to exclude me from the completed work for a short time. I did not like this one bit. I decided to build my own, cooler fort, but, lacking the necessary materials, I wound up tucking a blanket into a dresser drawer, putting a yardstick underneath it for support, and sitting under there alone. Then they decided to push it too far. Mike snuck over and pulled the dresser drawer out, letting the blanket drop down around me. I was so upset that I cried. All I wanted was to be left alone and mope for a bit, but they had to push it. I buried my inner anguish, and they soon let me back into the real fort.
The next morning, we returned to our fort. After some time I remember a ball was thrown out of the fort, and, as I went to retrieve it, they re-blocked the entrance to the fort. I refused to take that abuse again. I broke through the barricade, and fell in the fort on top of Mike. He yelped and pushed me off himself. I was so upset and angry, my mind rife with raw emotion, that I gave him a hard shove back. Later when questioned by my mother about who started the fight, I simply did not have an answer for her. The world was spinning; everything was happening so quickly. Before either of us knew what was happening, we were on each other like wild animals, swinging as hard as we could. His strategy was to bite me; mine was to scratch at his neck and try to choke him. I thought it was a good strategy because when I did it I got a reaction from him, but I realize now that I was actually being incredibly stupid. He was one of my best friends, and, because of his asthma, I could have killed him.
After our brief but intense scuffle, we broke apart and stood up, our fort already demolished from the fight. We stared each other down, both of us panting heavily, and, with his voice a bit raspy because of his asthma (or as I believed at the time, his pathetic attempt of faking it), he said, crying a bit, “If you don’t step out right now, I’m going to kick your ass.” Of course, now that I knew my strategy worked, I was brimming with self-confidence. I then stated the most arrogant words I have ever said in my life: “Bring it.” As he turned away (probably because he did not want to die), Will, ever the instigator, muttered to Brooks, “Your brother just beat the crap out of mine.” Despite the danger, Mike could not take this insult. He hurled himself at me, and we had another, shorter fight.
After all this, I was so distressed that I didn’t want to talk to anyone for a while. I took a long, hot shower, and locked myself in my room. Eventually I rejoined the group and just ignored Mike, but after some intensive videogame bonding time, we forgot our disagreement momentarily and began to talk as if it never happened. Soon we were outside riding our scooters, talking openly about what happened. Neither of us was mad at the other, and both of us understood that our initial anger was unnecessary. I hate remembering that morning, but ever time I do so, I realize how proud I am of my eight-year-old self and Mike for being able to put everything behind us so quickly.

So another birthday is coming up (yay). All of a sudden i'm rich from early presents. I can go out now, instead of sitting around poor. I tried to go to the movies Saturday and got rejected from an R-rated movie. I'm 17 in 3 days. Fuck that fucking bitch who wouldn't let us in. Life seems to be picking up though. In general, everything just seems better. It must be the spring. Baseball is in the air. I've been in such a good mood recently, I'm actually trying to control my fury at other inferior drivers. I'm not sure if that will actually relieve stress or just bottle it up, but it feels pretty good right now.

Yea. Awesome. Spring Break continues to impress. Despite having to get up early for baseball and being forced to find a summer job, I've still managed to have a good time. Shamrock shakes for St. Patrick's day. The second annual. Got a chance to hang with Wiley. Ate the most delectable burrito (with queso sauce of course). I then immediately went to my baseball game, in which I struck out twice looking. Fuck umpires.

Brooks is home. Just went to see Watchmen. Fucking legit, but unsatisfying in some ways. Probably the most epic comic book movie i've ever seen, but the superhero end of it seemed subpar. Like they didn't try to actually give most of the heroes powers. I don't really know. It was still very entertaining. I'm still trying to piece my brain back together since friday. Some really wacky shit happened.

Daylight savings sucks. 47 hour weekend? What the fuck!? Who would ever make that shit up? This is fucking mysterious. Anyway, spring break next week! Wiley gets back from Bumfuck, Vermont, or wherever he may be. Gotta love that shit. MKS spring break tour? New EP? We can only hope. Could be the best spring break ever.