wickedflea | (no subject)

I've never quite known what kind of cliché to be. I grew up predominantly headbanger, but I've always had at least a couple of dashes of punk and hippie in me. I have a suspicion that I'm a hesher, but Ive never been exactly sure what that means. I tend to think of a hesher as the sort who hangs out in parking lots, smokes weed, and listens to Black Sabbath. Sort of like a burnout. But I've never even considered putting glass packs in my car, and I'm violently opposed to the wearing of sleeveless T-shirts. So I'm not sure.

If you need evidence of just how confused I am, take a look at the back of my car. If that isn't the mark of a mixed-up kid with a sad identity crisis, I don't know what is. (You probably can't make them out, but that's a Minutemen sticker on the left of the license plate and a Slayer "Root of All Evil" one on the right.) Just today I was driving around at lunch and listening to my homemade '80s compilation, which features the Eurhythmics' "Sweet Dreams," Motorhead's "Ace of Spades," Thomas Dolby's "She Blinded Me with Science," and Quiet Riot's "Metal Health." So, needless to say, I don't have to wonder what people are laughing at when I'm singing along to "Don't Fear the Reaper" and happen to look in the rearview.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going down to the square dance to see if I can rustle up a mosh pit.