My name is William Bigos. These are some of my stories. The way I like to write is the same way I like to build towers of cards. 1/4 of the fun comes from setting up the tower and getting it to go as high as i can. 3/4 is thinking of new and creative ways to smash it back into the ground.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

This Is Rock

I totally wanted to get out on stage and melt some fucking faces off. The only thing standing in my way was the fact that my drummer thought it would be a good idea to throw my pills out before I went out on stage "because he's worried about me", or something. If he was worried about me he should have just let me down some of my shit so that I'm not anxious or nervous when I get out on stage. And so I can get high. He probably threw out the audiences shit too, because they started to get anxious and nervous when we didn't come out on schedule. The band went on without me to play some instrumental stuff that they practice without me, when I can't make it to practice. Seemed to calm down the crowd a little bit, but not all the way. They all know that the most important person in the band is still missing, and they want me. I want them too. But I'm not quite ready. Gotta dig through the garbage. Fucking drummer. If he flushed my stuff down the toilet I'm fucked. Pretty sure he said he threw the shit out though. Shit, I think I found one. What's on top of it, is that a used condom? Disgusting. Oh well, I need this shit badly. Hopefully I can find more. One pill isn't gonna get me high. What's in this cup? Still some beer in here. Nice there's some of my shit at the bottom too. Better drink this. Tastes like shit. Better eat the cup too so I at least have something in my stomach. Oh shit is this an animal? No. I don't know what that is. I just need to find a few more pills and I can hit the stage. I'm not even feeling anything yet. I hope my hair doesn't end up in this garbage when it falls out of my head. Something tells me it's inevitable. Here comes that crane that works for us. It's not a bird crane though. No, not a bird crane. Like a big metal one, with hands. Shit, he's dragging me out onto the stage. Oh well, I'll work with what I got. The audience is going nuts. They love seeing accurate 3-D models of me. My stomach feels like shit. I think spewing on the front row of the audience would be awesome, and then I might pass out for a little bit.

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