lake fire

773!… …773! 

Coming home from a show, just saw some dude tear out of a gas station outside of York being chased via foot by a Rutters employee. Naturally, we chased him for kicks. We see he has no lisence plate at about the same time he stops and a fat chick with a feather scarf darts into his car off the side of the road and we decide it’s out of our area of expertise.

I’m going to start a crust metal band with a bunch of hippies and call it Dankwish.

I’m going to make a horror movie about a zombie audience at a comedy lounge who eat you if you’re not funny, it’d be an interesting dynamic, I didn’t know that I could mix lima beans and carrots in with nacho dip!

I carry my friends on my back. Can’t look back and see. -Rick Armellino THIS OR THE APOCALYPSE / www.myspace.com/thisortheapocalypse SUBSEQUENT BOOKING / www.myspace.com/subsequentbooking (717) 203-9295 rickyarmellino@gmail.com Mailing Address: 2941 Brookfield Rd. Lancaster, PA 17601

This dude I work with at Circuit City is always cocking his neck to the side, clapping his hands together and spreading them out to each side before he calls his friends “nigga”. He’s white. Real white. The kind of guy that never grew out of the whole “And 1” thing. So far, from the two times I’ve worked with him, I’ve heard him brag about his sales percentage at least three or four times. Did I mention he’s probably about 23 years old? Today he was grooving at the sales computer in the Entertainment section, when I had to bring an elderly fellow over to redeem a $100 rebate on his TV. There was music playing on the monitor and he was loudly talking about how it was the “best fucking song he had ever heard” to some kid in earshot. He tried to ignore me as well as the customer standing by, twice, when I asked him to get the guy his rebate. After we stood there for a while he told me to go figure it out somewhere because he was busy. I really thought it was my imagination for a few minutes, but the text on the computer screen assured my most critical assumptions: The song playing on that computer was none other than the 2001 Trick Daddy hit, “I’m a Thug”.

Small Talk

I’m making a post from my iPhone. I was thinking about it last night, and I think that its only a matter of time before personal hard drives are a thing of the past and ALL data will be streamed onto your computers, video game systems, etc. It would take wireless Internet to be available just about everywhere and it’d have to be really fast. All of our stuff will be saved on one giant “super computer” that we all access remotely. Sooner or later, that is going to be how it is I believe. Sometimes I have these really ellaborate dreams that fall in the vein of some type of Tarentino-meets-Palhaniuk-esque plot line that jumps from one thing to the next. It had three characters: - The main character is a man between the ages of 20 and 30 seeking to finalize just what he wants to do with his life. Through a series of miscommunications, he ends up applying to a record label called Small Talk Records, as opposed to a conglamorate business office, Small Talk Industries. Through repeated teasing and questions from his friends, he slowly grows fond of the small business and considers sticking with it. - Me, travelling the hilly plains of Iceland with a party of between 4 and 6 people, 2 of which are small children. I lose my temper periodically with the one because she keeps stopping to ask her Mom for a larger bag of potato chips. There’s something really valuable that I need but I’m not sure what it is right now. - A man who, also through a bizarre set of misunderstandings, ends up doing some mechanical work to the wrong house his job sends him to. The house is empty. After getting oil all over his face and arms, he winds up taking a shower and stepping out, naked, in front of one of his favorite female celebrities. He convinces her not to call the police and they gradually approach the notion that they may be friends. My would jump between these, though I don’t really understand the correlation just yet (that is, if I ever will).

Sometimes I like to wait a month or two after a random hook-up before I call them up or IM them to let them know I’m pregnant.