petestreet

whatup?

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Ummm, now I know where The Red Shore got their Vehemence The Phoenix clip from (I still love that song by the way)

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Back in the day

That time in year 12 when the school made the teachers wear hi-vis vests at recess and lunch, so every time they were walking towards us we would yell the lyrics to Blinded By The Light by Manfred Mann at them so they’d leave us alone.

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Dog Apreesh Post This is Oscar and me. He’s Benny and Nelle’s, and he’s a massive American Bulldog. I’m lucky enough to live with them and him. He’s like a big dude you’d see at the gym, not trying to show off or look pretty, just ripped and you wouldn’t fuck with him. Kinda like the Commando from Biggest Loser but not a dickhead. I always considered myself a cat person. They’re like that friend who kinda hates everyone and you never hear from them, but when you do it’s rad and you have a sick time with them. I never really like dogs up until about a year ago. I thought they were all stupid attention seeking idiots with no convictions. I defended cats a lot, saying you have to earn their respect. When I get home from work, and I don’t know where anyone is, and I wanna see someone, I just come out and play with Oscar. He doesn’t care that sometimes I’m angry when he won’t leave me alone. He doesn’t care that I don’t have food to bribe him with. He doesn’t care that I pay out on him heaps. He just wants to hang out and have fun. Tonight we played tug-o-war and wrestled. We wore eachother out and he laid down and I sat next to him. He was fucked and breathing so fast I thought he was having a heart attack. But he reached out and put his paw on me (not in a gay way). It was like everything I’d ever thought about dogs just disappeared. It was life changing shit. So I grabbed his paw and we just chilled for a bit. It’s like he was saying “That was so good man!” Dog’s REALLY are man’s best friend.

Dog Apreesh Post

This is Oscar and me.
He’s Benny and Nelle’s, and he’s a massive American Bulldog. I’m lucky enough to live with them and him.

He’s like a big dude you’d see at the gym, not trying to show off or look pretty, just ripped and you wouldn’t fuck with him. Kinda like the Commando from Biggest Loser but not a dickhead.

I always considered myself a cat person. They’re like that friend who kinda hates everyone and you never hear from them, but when you do it’s rad and you have a sick time with them.

I never really like dogs up until about a year ago. I thought they were all stupid attention seeking idiots with no convictions. I defended cats a lot, saying you have to earn their respect.

When I get home from work, and I don’t know where anyone is, and I wanna see someone, I just come out and play with Oscar. He doesn’t care that sometimes I’m angry when he won’t leave me alone. He doesn’t care that I don’t have food to bribe him with. He doesn’t care that I pay out on him heaps.

He just wants to hang out and have fun.

Tonight we played tug-o-war and wrestled. We wore eachother out and he laid down and I sat next to him. He was fucked and breathing so fast I thought he was having a heart attack. But he reached out and put his paw on me (not in a gay way).

It was like everything I’d ever thought about dogs just disappeared. It was life changing shit.

So I grabbed his paw and we just chilled for a bit. It’s like he was saying “That was so good man!”

Dog’s REALLY are man’s best friend.

Filed under dogs

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Who Invited The Russian Soldier?

I’m not usually one to post lyrics, but every time I hear this song, it blows my mind.

Who Invited The Russian Soldier? - Every Time I Die

Read the interview with Keith Buckley below!

“Not too long ago ETID frontman Keith Buckley was hanging out at a dive bar, when a woman who seemed too young to be there bumped into him while dancing. She spilled his drink, and he started yelling “What the fuck are you doing?!” “Afterwards, I felt really bad about it,” the singer says. “I realised I was officially that old dude who doesn’t like it when kids have fun. It’s very defeatist.” Turns out the girl works with a friend of his, so he apologised the next day for being “grumpy old man.”

Thinking about it, he began correlating the defeatist feeling with stories he’d read about Russian soldiers. “About them marching in the cold, and how they’d shoot themselves rather than endure any trauma.” This train of thought became the fuel for “Who Invited The Russian Soldier?”

Revolver Magazine, Nov ‘09 


Wait until they send your son home in a box.
See if you’re dancing when water is everywhere.
Anguish is endless but deaths unambiguous.
Wave as it carries him off and pose while it fits you in hospital gowns.
Flirt with the men dressed in white.
Slip into bed with the fire that consumes our house.
Sing on your surveillance tape.
Smile in your autopsy photo for once.
Phone up the boys that have buried your bones.
Where do you get off loving life? As if it’s done any of us any good

You’re going to wish you were me when the unsuspecting are dragged to their graves and you’re standing on the edge holding a rose.
Dead where we stand and you concern yourself with such things as your status and what’s in fashion?
Don’t say you can’t be this bothered.
Death becomes us all.
You’ve got some nerve having hope in this ghost town port of call.

Someday your insides will turn themselves out.
Tell me what purpose our efforts have served when we end up in the ground?
More acts will follow the roles we have played.
Everything loved will expire. I’ve seen it all and I’m worse off because of it.
Good men have died in my arms.
I’ve been everywhere yet we’ll end up at the same depth. What’s the point?

You’re going to wish you were me when the unsuspecting are dragged to their graves and you’re are on the edge holding a rose.
You’re standing on the edge holding a rose.
Don’t say you can’t be this bothered.
Death becomes us all.
You’ve got some nerve having hope in this ghost town port of call.

There’s nothing to see here. And nothing gazes back at me.
There’s nothing to see here. And that nothing looks back at us.

Now go listen to the song!

Filed under every time i die etid keith buckley russian soldier