COMIN TO YOUR TOWN GONNA TEAR IT DOWN

Break the BRAIN Blast in HELL

2004-10-30T18:50:15Z

Going back to my old livejournal, we_sk8forjezzus.
cheers,
max

IM LEAVING TOMMOROW

2004-10-29T03:32:14Z

if you want to get in touch with me call me cellphone 917 2000 I am not going to be at home (online) for a long long time. I cant live here, not anymore.

whooaaaa ITS THE RED ALERT

2004-10-25T01:02:33Z

So saturday I was going to go rob a liquor store, I got dressed up and everything...

But then I relized no one would be intimidated by a short jewish kid in a minor threat hoodie even if I did have the menacing bandanna and blurry photo look going for me. So instead I went to see a End of The Century with Mikaylah. It was damn good. I was especially impressed by Dee Dee's rap career and the extent of Johnny dickheadedness. Then I had my first photobooth expeireince. It was GLORIOUS.....

and yes I am wearing a t-shirt of the same band as the hoodie. Yeah I know I pose hard. Then later I told mikaylah she was a heathen for wearing vans. I showed her a picture to illustrate my point:
She was quite impressed and I think I am damn close to convincing her to burn her vans (at a stake would be an added bonus.)
Thats alls I gots to say.
cheers,
Max

THIS ONE GOES OUT TO ALL THE CRITICS

2004-10-21T02:01:22Z

Im sad.

FALL ON YOUR SWORD

2004-10-17T05:50:53Z

I must have done something wrong. I am not quite sure what but there must have been something. Maybe laughing at floorpunching or jumping off that amp. joke? That’s not core dude. Never the less It's time to say something profound. ok here goes...

There are some things no one can relate to. These are things that set me apart.
You see my being eccentric or saying random things, but you don’t see past that. ever. I really want you too, I want you to understand, and I want you to see me for who I am. But you won’t. You can't. It isn’t an act, but its not all of me. When I walk I am out of touch. I don't see the same thing you do. There is a screen door of sorts, blurring my vision, my perception. What you see I never can. When I walk I walk alone. Who's by my side has never mattered, I walk alone. I want that to change.

Out of step WITH THE WORLD!!

EUREKA!

2004-10-12T00:19:13Z

I have found what has to be one of the most offensive images in the history of the world. For your viewing pleasure:

molotov_brigade @ 2004-10-10T22:53:00

2004-10-11T03:55:02Z

So A band practice actually happened. It was a relief and we sounded good. Well they sounded good, all the music stores were closed so we couldn’t get the cable we needed to run the mic through an amp. Never the less all went well and soon we will thrash a show near you. We still need a bass player but that may be in the process of being worked out. However if you play bass and have absolutely no interest in that indie rock bullshit let me know. AIM: LexiconDevilMIA
The bands name is Tommorows Fuck Ups and here is a little logo/design thingy I put together:

NO MORE BREAKDOWNS!!!!!!
cheers,
max

let me tell you a little story

2004-10-06T04:24:55Z

March 17^th Washington DC

9:47 AM The sun is an amazing thing to behold. I have always been fascinated by the thought that half way across the world a man sees the same light, the same sun as we do. I truly feel that just as God took it upon himself to give mankind the gift of light, it is now time for us as Americans to give the gift of democracy to mankind. Our black Lincoln town car speeds down Pennsylvania Avenue on route to the capital. It is a beautiful spring day. The sun is out and the sky is clear, a good day for a picnic. I have made this trip hundreds of times in the last three years, but today is different. I look out the Lincoln’s window, a mother pushes a baby carriage, a young boy runs in the park, a father plays catch with his son. I look out the window and I am proud that in a matter of hours we will be spreading this gift of freedom to those who have never experienced it. I look out the window and I know I am doing the right thing. We are nearly to the Capitol. I know what I do today will not be easy, I know that there will be those who oppose what I am going to do but I know in my heart that it is the right thing to do. I am going to do this for the families of those living under an oppressive dictator because it is what I would ask to be done for my family. I am going to do this for the families whose lives have been destroyed by those who hate the freedom we as Americans possess, because it is what I would ask to be done for my family. I am going to do this because I no longer wish to see any family living in fear. We have pulled into the Capitol. “Thank you Mr. President,” says the reporter to my left. The rest soon chime in. I shake their hands and get out of the car. My aides approach me smiling from ear to ear. “Perfect,” a short balding aide says to me in a hushed tone, “you had them eating out of your hand.” We walk through the marble halls discussing today’s agenda. I have meetings all morning. At 10:30 I have a meeting with representatives from numerous security firms, each of them looking for a piece of the profits the upcoming war will create; each of them willing to support my upcoming re-election campaign. At 1 o’clock I am meeting with the leaders of the party to discuss the finer political points of going to war. Then at 5:00 it’s show time. First I am going to the Senate floor to finalize a bill that will provide funding for the war. Immediately afterwards I am going on television to announce the invasion and garner support for the war that will follow. At 7:00 I am going to go play golf.

5:30 PM The red light begins to blink. The Senate was almost too easy to convince. The chubby camera man counts down with his fingers. Five, I close my eyes visualizing the course with its green rolling hills. Four, I see the perfect swing. Three, the small white ball flies through the air. Two, it lands on the green rolling slowly towards the hole, closer and closer almost there. One, “My fellow Americans, there are words I prayed I would never be forced to speak.” It’s so easy. “There are words I thought were reserved for the great presidents of yesterday” It’s taking candy from a baby “There are words that should never be taken lightly” I can see them all huddled around their television “There are words that tonight must be said, and must be heard” They are sheep “My fellow Americans tonight these words will be heard. They will be heard throughout this great land. They will be heard all over the world in the homes of the world and they will be heard by all those who have and will try to take our freedom” They are mine. “Tonight the world will hear that we stand united. The world will hear that we stand strong. The world will hear that we will strike down without exception all those that think they can take our freedom, our families, our lives, through terror.” And the finishing touch. “Tonight my fellow Americans we are at war.” Time to golf.

March 17^th Arlington, Virginia.

9:47 AM. I don’t go outside anymore. The sun beating down on me, its light is just another weight on my shoulder, just another burden another factor in my life’s continuing failure. I don’t know what kind of sick joke god was playing when he created this stinking cesspool we call a planet. I don’t think its funny, did you hear me? IT’S NOT FUNNY. The car is moving eastbound on I-66 towards DC. It is a clear spring day but why does that matter? Why is a day like this held in such high regard? It is just another step closer to mankind’s inevitable self destruction. It is a good day to be dead. I put my head back and close my eyes. I can feel the torn leather seatbacks against my neck. I look out the window; all I see is sprawling suburbia. I look out the window and I am disgusted. This is it, America’s final frontier, the final conquest; Suburbia was the beginning of the end. I look out the window and I know what I did was not wrong. The car is slowing down. I know there are those that will see me as a monster but I know in my heart, a heart some will even say I do not possess, that I was setting her free. I did it for her family, for our family. I did it so she could have what I could not otherwise give her, it is what I would ask anyone to do for me. I did it because I no longer wished to see her living under the yoke of an oppressive reality; it is what I would ask anyone to do for me. I did it to set her free from a world that did not care. I did it because I do not wish to see any family living the way we did. The car stops. “Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Peterson,” says the officer in the driver’s seat. His young partner echoes the same words. They nod to me, I nod back and the cruiser’s door opens. I am cuffed and escorted into the station. They take me to a private room; It has two chairs and a metal table. The room looks identical to the ones seen in those cookie cutter cop dramas. I sit down and begin humming Beethoven’s 5^th symphony; it is something to keep me entertained while the wheels of justice run their course. The door opens and in he comes. “They bought it, they think you are insane” he whispers, a tinge of surprise in his voice. “Are you surprised?” I ask. I know the answer, of course he is surprised. My first meeting with Jefferson was in my penthouse, the second is here in this meeting room. “Well yes a bit” his voice falters as he says it. For all his recommendations and ridiculously high priced fees he didn’t do enough research to know I was an acclaimed actor in college. “Never the less we have work to do” his voice falls back into its normal confident tone. At 10:30 I have a meeting with a witness who has made it clear his testimony is not set in stone. Money has a way with people. At 1:00 Jefferson and I will discuss exactly how crazy I am. How I had lost grip with reality. How I could not tell what I was doing was wrong. How killing her was the right thing to do in my mind. Then at 4:00 I go to work. First on the Judge, I need a damaging psyche exam thrown out. Then on to the prosecution’s key witness, the extremely talented but young private investigator. And finally on the fine men and women of the jury in whose hands my fate rests. At 7:00 I will walk out the doors a free man take a quick drive to a cooperating psychologist and then a block away I will pick up my recently deceased wife’s life insurance plan.

5:30 PM The jury looks down at me, a mix of hatred and sympathy in their eyes. I shoot a glance at Jefferson, he seems pleased. I’m not sure if it’s the cut of the life insurance policy so close he can taste it or the excellence of my testimony. The judge was a pushover, and the private investigator was much too young to be playing with the big boys. I look directly at each jury member, numbering them in my mind. One, “Ladies and gentleman of the jury, what I did, I did for her”. Twelve million dollars. Two, “She asked me to do it, maybe not with words, but the look in her eyes begged for a release” All in one single life insurance policy. Three “She was, like the rest of us are, just pawns in a game.” A policy that will return to me the lifestyle my wife tried to take. Four, “A game being played with our minds and our lives. This world does not care about us, about her.” She thought she could take the money and leave. Five, “Can’t you see, I was saving her” She thought I would let her go. Six, “I was releasing her from a life that had done her so much wrong” She thought I would let the money go. Seven. “This horrible world is no place for a beautiful creature such as her” But that wretched bitch was wrong. Eight, “She deserved better than all of this” Now she is gone and the money is almost mine Nine, “I did what was right” I can see the check in my hand. Ten, “I did what she wanted” I can see the yachts, I can see the wine, I can see the parties and the women. Eleven “I gave her the gift of a new start” It is within my grasp. Twelve “I am her savior” It is all mine. I can hear the quiet in the court room. I can see the shock on the faces of the jury. I can see the tears in her mother’s eyes. I see it all and I know I have won. An hour later I walk out the door of the courthouse a free yet clinically insane man. I am untouchable.

SOCIAL D

2004-09-26T05:57:41Z

anyone want to spot me money for a social distortion ticket?

AM I REALLY HAPPY?

2004-09-25T07:59:50Z

DS-13 on the old turntable

"Tired smiles fade away
what's this shit - whats the point
rich boy, flashy look
are you really happy?

whats the fukking point - you bore me
whats the fukking point - you bore me

Models searching for fun and glory
I don't belong here - What's the point?
It makes me wish I had a gun
Am I really happy?

Fake Bodies, Fukked up faces
styrofam smiles, plastic pride"

molotov_brigade @ 2004-09-21T23:19:00

2004-09-22T04:27:15Z

So I am told there was a music festival last weekend. I am also told it was 85 dollars for three days. But I don’t need to be told anymore to say this FUCK THAT! So instead I embarked on a poverty induced quest for enlightenment. This is my story….

Prologue: The ACL talk began many many months ago. Teenagers, at gathering places all across Austin, had one thing on the mind

Okay maybe 2 things

I was excited.

Then I heard the price of admission

Now I'm not

ACL just wasn't for me

ACT I: THE PLAN

Friday September 17 @ school: The ACL buzz is everywhere even my Spanish teacher is excited (granted he has dreads) The excitement mounts but alas I am alone. There are few who could resist the Sheryl Crow’s pathetic attempts at being “hip” and the Pixies sad revival. Lard anyone?

As the bell rings I sit pondering the woes of a lonely weekend but then genius strikes. I will show those yuppie fucks that 85 dollars can do a lot more than three days of stadium rock.

ACT 2: THE CREDIT CARD

FRIDAY, The night begins. While I scheme and I plot the rest of those fools sit in the sweltering heat trying to make out if that dot on stage is modest mouse or Ron Jeremy’s giant dick (is there really a difference?)

Not having 85 dollars of my own to finance my quest I come to the conclusion that my only option is theft. It is 8:30 PM my parents have just fallen asleep. I sneak into their room almost knocking over their glass of warm milk and vitamins. I am lucky, their master card is sitting on the nightstand. I grab it and take off in my Porsche 911....what? stop staring at me! Okay Okay so it was a Pinto.....uhhh....fine it was a bike ......So I cant ride I bike and I walked…fuck you

Now it was time to shop for all the essentials. Planning a vision quest aint easy ya know:

DAY 1
three 40’s – $9.00
enough weed to last Cheech and Chong a lifetime – $10.00…hey, its Austin
munchies-$6.00
A trip to speedway instead of ACL – PRICELESS

DAY 2
Sitting at home with a hangover – free
Pirated NWA – free
Air-conditioning – free
Having more fun hungover then dehydrated at ACL – PRICELESS

DAY 3
It’s day 3 I still have 60 dollars, what to do what to do…HELICOPTER!!!
Helicopter fly by over ACL-60$
Stealing a disposable camera – 90 to 180 days in county
Developing photos at wal-mart – Loss of integrity dignity and self respect
Getting these photos – priceless

ACT 3: IN THE END….

Well kids, what have we learned today?

-Brock from modest mouse really does have a striking resemblance to a certain element of the male anatomy.

-No matter what athlete she is fucking, Sheryl Crow still sucks.

-Paying muy dinero to sit in the blistering heat, be surrounded by hippies who don’t bathe, and stare at tiny dots on stage is overrated.

Postscript:

All original photos are copywriter….just not by me.

THANK YOU GOD!!

2004-09-19T23:03:55Z

my sad long days of mourning motorhead have had few pleasures but this is one of them
THE CORRECT WAY TO DRESS YOUTH CREW: http://www.morethanfashion.net/clothes.htm
AND THE CORRECT WAY TO "MOSH":
http://www.morethanfashion.net/etiquette.htm
AND LET US NOT FORGET THE RIGHT HAIR CUT:
http://www.morethanfashion.net/hair.htm

ever seen a 12 year old get thrashed

2004-09-15T04:30:34Z

me niether but I look like one so without further ado the greatest pictures ever....

gotta love the sXe band t-shirt

Does god hate me? yes i believe he does

2004-09-13T22:56:24Z

Inepsy has cancelled their tour as well. IM GOING POSTAL WATCH OUT BITCHES

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

2004-09-13T22:08:07Z

motorhead has cancelled it's us tour that. THAT MEANS NO SHOW IN AUSTIN!! take my life please I cant continue living....

Banner of hope

2004-09-12T05:28:26Z

We hold this banner of hope
united hand in hand

I might get stabbed tommorow but ive had a good run.
cheers,
max

We are the son of REAGAN heil!

2004-09-11T06:29:42Z

Tonight was fun. pissstrunk and high is the way to go. Wow i can type inebriated, cool. I have some regrets, but a good night never the less.
cheers,
max

ps. when did my precious punk rock bleed into scene. I blame the casualties (and them krum-bums)

FIGHTING FOR A FREE CHECHNYA

2004-09-08T04:44:48Z

Before you beat your chests and cry for the blood of Chechen "terrorists" you might want to know what led to the hostage situation and the death of the children in Beslan. What you hear on the news is not the whole story. The truth is there is no whole story, only bits and pieces of information each telling a different aspect of the story. To understand the violence and death in Beslan you must first understand why men and women would leave their homes in Chechnya to go to Beslan and take hostages in a school. I have a lot to say about this and right now I don’t have the time to say it. I will update again with much more as soon as I can. For now i will post 3 articles that may shed some light on the issue.

This article from Moscow's newspaper gives some background into the conflict in Chechnya:
http://www.mosnews.com/feature/2004/09/01/terror.shtml

from the same newspaper this is an article about russias own tactics in this situation:
http://www.mosnews.com/news/2004/09/07/federalhostages.shtml

Here are two articles from Human Rights Watch's website:
http://www.hrw.org/press/2002/04/chechnya041502.htm
http://hrw.org/english/docs/2004/04/12/russia8424.htm

The war in Chechnya is not black and white. The roots of the conflict are centuries old and each side is guilty of a staggering amount of death. There is no right and wrong in Chechnya only perceptions skewed by years of Russian oppression. Are the actions of Chechen rebels despicable? Yes. But are they unprovoked? no.

IF YOU LET FREEDOM RING WILL THEY DARE!

2004-09-04T15:23:27Z

and if that wasnt random enough heres another classic

lastly the greatest comic ever written:

well alright, REACT

2004-09-03T00:57:09Z

show tonight at emos. It's going to kick your ass so change out of your diesel pants and checkered shirts. done? good. show up or die bitches. doors at 8 show at 9 EMOS

Victims (sweden)
Kegcharge (james from spazm 151)
Laughing Dogs (anthony from the offenders)
Complete Control(as the poster says "thankfully without the virus")

i know it wont make a differance, you wont come so...
FUCK YOU!!!

cheers,
max

Cheers

2004-08-28T09:26:02Z

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street,
a gentle Irishman mighty odd
He had a brogue both rich and sweet,
an' to rise in the world he carried a hod
You see he'd a sort of a tipplers way
but the love for the liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on his way each day,
he'd a drop of the craythur every morn

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

One morning Tim got rather full,
his head felt heavy which made him shake
Fell from a ladder and he broke his skull,
and they carried him home his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet,
and laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet
and a barrel of porter at his head

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

His friends assembled at the wake,
and Mrs Finnegan called for lunch
First she brought in tay and cake,
then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien began to cry, "Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see,
Tim avourneen, why did you die?",
"Will ye hould your gob?" said Paddy McGee

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job,
"Biddy" says she "you're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob and left her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon engage,
t'was woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
and a row and a ruction soon began

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Mickey Maloney raised his head
when a bucket of whiskey flew at him
It missed, and falling on the bed,
the liquor scattered over Tim
Tim he revives, see how he rises, Timothy rising from the bed
Saying "Whittle your whiskey around like blazes, t'underin' Jaysus, do ye think I'm dead?"

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

cops make great fertalizer

2004-08-24T04:32:21Z

holy shit we have a band practice!!! and all it took was to sacrifice all my hardcore street cred (dont laugh bitches)
scene points up self respect waaaay down. band names im considering. "a love once lost" "the times we cherished" "time changes all things" and my personal favorite "a heart broken, a love found" saw a snobs sticker on the bass sam from toru okada was playing. weird. schools out lets skate, shit changed i guess TIME TO PICK UP THE FLAME

KILL KILL KILL

2004-08-21T02:39:32Z

Don't deny it, you got your "LJ" because it was trendy and cool. Then quickly everything changed, as trends tend to do. LJ or el jay or whatever the fuck you called it was, *gasp* no longer "in" so being sheep that you are, killed yours. Of course you, as most trendy kids tend to do, claimed you took the moral highroad. drama this waste of time that, but we can all see right through you. The truth is it wasn’t cool so you moved on. Goodbye livejournal, hello napoleon dynamite. Well fuck you, I like mine so I am keeping it. I guess I get -15 scene points for being honest.
cheers,
max

Time for a bit of the old ulra-boredom

2004-08-18T18:53:10Z

I was bored last night so I decided it was time to kick my art into over drive. With sharpy in hand i proceeded to turn my desk into a work of art nay, a masterpiece:

ok so really i just scribbled band logos on there, but i went through two sharpys that artistic sacrifice. Osip Mondelstam was executed for his poetry. Orson Welles and Carlie Chaplin were Blacklisted for the political contentations of their films, and I went through 2 black markers for my masterpiece. The things we do for our art....

Here are some of my other masterpieces:

molotov_brigade @ 2004-08-14T20:46:00

2004-08-15T01:52:43Z

cmon kids lets get out shit together and play some fucking hardcore. on another not saw rock n roll high school today with the krum bums and bones from the brats covering ramones songs and of course they beat out the SOS. good shit. saw that fad movie (yeah you know the one) with amanda that was fun. Ok kids here the deal i used to put genuinly funny shit on livejournal, but I havn't in a long time thats gonna change.....