THE HAUNTED's Peter Dolving: "Please Don't Stuff My Face With Your Tits Unless I Ask You"

November 24, 2006, 18 years ago

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THE HAUNTED frontman Peter Dolving has issued the following updates:

"Thursday, November 23rd...

Las Vegas...

Las Vegas is bizarre. Completely off the chart bonkers, cuckoo. You drive hours of absoluteley nothing, rocks, sand and tumble weed and then BAM! An abomination in defiance to the very web of reality and the grander things of all things natural. A city of lies, lies and more lies. A movie set backdrop to surround a neverending stream of idiots willing to stare themselves blind at the huge piles of glass and concrete, crafted in size rather than detail, a mirage for morons with a hunger for alibis and easy ways out.

Jesus would have begged for the spear in this shithole.

What makes Vegas worth while is the fact that there are actually human beings here. They are the ones who run the machine and keeps the monster awake. Twentyfour seven, three hundred and sixty five days per year. Hard working people who figured well, at least there's always work, so whatever man...

They're plumbers, carpenters, security staff, garbage collectors and sex shop clerks. Your average Joe and Jane, in the middle of the weirdest fucking place in America, only surpassed by Washington DC and Beverly Hills.

If there is a God, thank you for helping me see them. For helping realize I am one of them.

I was watching the freakshow dress up tonight. Gothed-up clowns and posers circling the bait waiting for the main attraction, yeah, I saw the hipsters and business gerbils come in late, to smile their pretentious carnivore grins, pay their dues and lie about what a great show it was and how much they loved it. But I also saw the childlike smiles and sweat drenched Tshirts of the dudes and dudettes who truly and fully love the music and the ritual sacrifice it offers. It's real you know, though too many of the vultures have no clue what it really means. Instead they grasp for a sense of belonging they'll never ever feel, so they kill it. Enciting the passers by and the temporary visitors, the tourists and the accidental roadkill. The magpie fraternity, the leeches and pilgrim fishes of our world.

Do you think they'll hate themselves when they look back? Do you think they're lonely?

One of my friends came out in Vegas and it made my day, went over and had a coffee and checked out the sharks at the aquarium. It was fucking sweet. Thanks for coming by Rhino and getting me out of the tour-box.

The show? The show was kinda funny. We do what we do, but it seemed like a lot of the Vegas crowd wanted something a little more extravagant than five dudes rockin their souls to pieces. No glam and glitter... I mean, hey! they have a friggin pyramid! Their dad works all dad dressed up as King Tut. Tatoos in this town is a fucking reality show. Celine Dion fer hells sake! So... I guess next time we bring confetti bombs, photo models in giant dry martinis and we'll play the show in tuxedos riding tame green olives in macramé dresses hangin from a truss in the cieling, huh?

San Diego on the other hand was righteous. SOMA is kinda sleazy BUT it has a great staff and kids come out for having a good time... Wadda you know!? Besides, the ocean and lazy seals at the beach always beats a glasspyramid and monster hotels...

Also - chicks in San Diego are cuter. Less make up,more dance around laughing and rocking out... But you know what? I still have hope for that place in the desert..."
"Friday, November 24th...

Who gives a shit anyway...

Mostly I used to completely hate the fact that it seemed like people were either total dicks or just indifferent bastards. I think I'm reaccessing my basic outlook on it all. Not all people are those things. Some are fucking stupid as well.

A dude I know from Canada calls them "weakeners". The vampire scum that leech around thinking they're "in the loop" - getting a piece of the cookie that ain't no fucking cake.

Here's what assholes ought to know - A bands dressing room is off fucking limits unless you were personally invited. In most parts of the world it's fine for a home owner bashing the head off of someone who steps over the threshold of your premises without an invitation to steal your shit. So when jerkwad cling-on ass lint scrubs think they're invited to the "party" 'cause someone got them a backstage pass and waddle around in a drunk stupor thinking they´re invisible it makes me want to take a board to their face. Ladies included.

Switch on subject - female sexist pigs - yes I know it's book by Ariel Levy, I was reminded about what a great book it is the other day. Anyway...

It does not matter what you have between your legs or how large or small your tits are, how tall, short, skinny or fat - you are human. Just like me. Not every human being is completely motivated by sticking their dick into you just because you were born with a different chromosome setup. If you are a thieving ass cropduster jack off, what sex you are just don't matter.

Now I was raised to believe in the whole open-the-door-for-the-ladies bullshit and the more I'm understanding of gender differential mythological fuck-what-not, the sicker I'm getting of it.

Manipulating reality. As if it ain't freaked out enough... OK. I realize it ain't easy. And NO I am way far from perfect. But a little decency, is that just way off the chart?

Please don't stuff my face with your tits unless I ask you and you feel way comfortable with it. I'm interested in your ass as some kind of mood enhancer. You have a brain so don't talk to me like a baby or a retard, cause I know you know.

Hoochie mamas - get this shit, I am not a retard because I was born with a dick. Nor are most of my friends. Just like you weren't born with a place for a birdnest between your ears just cause you're posting glandular and tissue excess and have to accept that your sex emits fluids that scare ignorant bastards like yourself and your anal retentive boyfriend.

A pussy is not a fucking weapon. A cock is no gun. It's people with cotton candy for reasoning who turns it into that. When idiots talk in terms of "Women are from Venus, Men are from Mars" it makes me want to puke. HELLO! Homo Sapiens Sapiens. Face it.

I could go on. I probably will, but not right now. I'm still kinda surfin on the easy day in San Diego and thanksgiving dinner with the band and watching the ultra stupid Dukes Of Hazzard (and yeah, I liked it for what it was...) so now I'm gonna take a leak and go to bed. Next up is Tucson Arizona and we are gonna fucking rock out like there's no tomorrow. Guess what - we're going to a couple of my favourite places in the world to play next - mutherfucking Albaquerque, Arizona and then Los Angeles. This is gonna be sweet..."


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