Grrrrr....Arrrghhh....

You may notice that not much has been going on here lately. Believe me I wish it were otherwise. The momentum for my band Short to Ground seems to be building, although sadly that has to do with the hard work (and financing) of the other three members and not my raggedy-ass self.  Remember my move in November? The one where I was so happy about getting a house to set up a small studio in? Yeah I moved all right, but the previous tenants have yet to move entirely out of the goddamn place, including Shamus, a big chocolate wrecking ball of a Lab who just doesn’t give a fuck what you’re trying to do. Every week the mother-in-law’s slob, packrat boyfriend comes back down from spending the weekend with her in Michigan because he can’t find a job up there, bringing the aforementioned four-legged agent of Satan with him, along with another dog, thus fucking up any chance we have of keeping the place habitable, much less getting a proper workspace set up.

On another acre of my own private hell, the boss of my day job thought it’d be a good idea to cut my hours in half, saying that we should get someone with more technical expertise, then winds up hiring her pot-smoking cousin, who claims she got the job down cold, then proceeds to let a client go without swiping their card for a $400+ bill, and as of today somehow managed to delete the document scanning software. Meanwhile my wife has to work there full time during her chemotherapy in order to keep her health insurance, which has her jumping through hoops to get anything done thanks to the shitheaded lazy punk-ass cunts at the HMO. Me? Oh I’m not worried about my insurance. Now that I’m going to part time, I don’t have it anymore. Having your wife bust her ass to afford the poison that’s puts everything good in her life on hold is bad enough, but adding the burden of paying full price for your own insulin just adds insult to injury.

I have no refuge, no sanctuary. Home life sucks. Work sucks. I can’t go to band practice as often as I like because of my wife’s chemo schedule, never mind the rising cost of gas to get there. I can’t work on DMK material, because every 5 to 10 minutes there’s something else going wrong, the dogs are eating the cable box, the cats are vomting on dinner, the mother-in-law is on the phone threatening to move back here and screaming that everyone else ruined life for her irresponsible ass, obviously not giving two shits about the physical and mental stress her daughter is already under fighting cancer. My wife has enough on her plate, yet she keeps telling me I can vent to her, and she continually apologizes for holding things up. MY GOD WOMAN YOU HAVE CANCER!!! YOU’RE NOT HOLDING ANYTHING UP! IT’S ALL THESE OTHER SHITHEADS!!! I’ve told her before, she needs less “I’m sorry” coming out of her mouth and more “FUCK YOU”.

In spite of all this I was able to bang together a couple remixes for an EP STG is releasing soon:

  Darwin's Mistake (Evolutionary Dead End Mix) 90 sec sample by Short to Ground

  Slow Asphyxiation (Creeper Comedown Mix) 90 sec sample by Short to Ground



As for my own material & live show? I have no fucking clue. Right now I just want to go to the nearest shopping mall and euthanize random teenagers with the claw end of a hammer.