Life is crazy, candy baby.

Babies throw up. That’s what they have in common with old drunks and rock stars. Also, they’re blissfully unaware of themselves, usually they’re kind of lacking in muscle tone (except that baby Hercules thing, and iggy pop, respectively) and pissing their pants isn’t so much out of the question as it’s a given that it’s gonna happen.
My baby likes to barf. This morning, he had already barfed on my chest twice by six thirty. He’s previously barfed on my face and into my mouth. It’s one of the more shocking things, in that it instantly makes you wide awake, but it’s not as gross as it sounds. Okay, if it’s your baby. I don’t want YOUR baby barfing into my mouth. That’s just fucking disgusting. No offense to your baby.
I have tons of dumb shit to do today. I have to take my dog to get his nails cut. I have to get some printer ink. I have to vacate the house for three hours while it gets cleaned (fucking A right, everyone) and I have to teach my friend Chris the basics of picking my baby up from daycare and putting him to bed. Not that it’s difficult.
My wife’s gonna be out of town this weekend. It’s serious Mister Mom action, Friday to Sunday. I’m home on Saturday, but otherwise, I work, so it’s gonna be a somewhat grueling weekend. Well, actually, I plan on doing a lot of writing and reading and getting some sleep. Bedtime for BK? Seven thirty, Friday and Saturday. Nice.
Next weekend (Halloween) I’m going to Gainesville to play a few rock shows. It should be cool, and quite the opposite of my baby weekend. That’s also when Daylight Savings Time shuts off, so the baby will suddenly be waking up between 430 and 530, which is a bit of a drag. BUT HEY! I’m gonna be in Florida. That’s really more my wife’s problem. I’ll have my own issues to contend with in Florida. That’s for sure. Like where the fuck I’m gonna sleep, or how I’m going to get a bunch of hooded sweatshirts down there. God. The business of rock and roll is so boring. It’s all shipping and invoices and contracts and negotiating and stupid fucking truce arrangements that involve doing favors for some shady asshole so he’ll fuck someone over on your behalf later on. I mean, if all I had to do was crack a beer and go on stage, I’d be pretty happy, but unfortunately, I deal with all this other bullshit too. It’s dumb. Oh! That reminds me. I also have to go to the bank. Good thing I put that in there right? That’s interesting. Jesus Christ.
I can tell you all, without a doubt, what the most insane day of my life was. Is that strange? Do most people know off the tops of their heads the day that stands out the most as the craziest one they ever lived? I mean, for me, it’s not even a contest. Some day I’ll tell you guys about it. I don’t have the energy today, but let me just say that it heavily features my toothless German dwarf friend from most of my good stories.
People, if you ask them, will probably usually say the day they saw their kids get born is the most insane day of their lives. Actually, you know what? No. they say that’s the happiest day of their lives, which to me is fucking crazy. I mean, there is a lot of joy at a birth, but it’s also SCARY AS SHIT, MAN! For every iota of joy I was feeling on my dude’s birthday, there was a contemporaneous iota of terror, uncertainty and newfound unknowable responsibility, each. I think that the happiest day of your life would probably be one where there’s no pressure, right? Like, that day you woke up, got a blowjob, had a bloody mary, saw some friends, maybe another blowjob, and a great dinner. That’s like a perfect day. I understand it doesn’t have the dizzying highs of birth, but it also doesn’t have that terror factor, which, if you see the pictures taken of me on the day of my kid’s birth, was clearly in play, at least for me. Sure, it becomes less scary, but that first day, boy. Woo-hoo. Talk about having to use some expensive equipment without having a manual. You know how much a baby goes for out there? Me either, but I’m pretty sure this dude on my lap is worth more than my iPod.
Honestly, and this is so cheesy that I hesitate to write it, but I think my wedding day was the happiest day of my life. All my friends and family at a party that I had at least some say in making sure was cool…I knew I was going to Mexico for a week right afterwards. I was pretty confident in my spouse choice. Yeah, that was a great day. We also rolled through the Taco Bell drive through at 1 am and ordered 60 bean burritos. That was a nice capper.
Nah, but I’m not talking about happy days, or exciting days, I’m talking about insane days. Days where you maybe (in my case for sure) pray a little bit and say “hey god, I know we don’t really get along, but if you get me out of here alive to tell this story, I promise I won’t embellish it or anything, and I’ll never, ever, ever let a war photographer talk me into driving sixty miles and walking two miles into a French forest in a snowstorm again. So what if it’s the only place where I’ve ever seen someone ask cops for heroin, or seen a camper on fire. Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself. Today, office max and the dog groomers. That’s pretty exciting too, right? Stay tuned! Today may just usurp that day in France as the most insane day of my life. I kind of hope not though, I’ve got a weekend of parenting and bartending ahead of me, and I need my rest.

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14 Responses to Life is crazy, candy baby.

  1. DrewYork says:

    I can’t believe you have the audacity to do this to your loyal audience… thanks to you I will not be able to wholly concentrate on anything until this story of yours is unveiled. If shit can get crazier than being in a small room filled with smuggled Iranian fighting cocks with a toothless midget and an esteemed thai kickboxer, than this shit is just going to be through the fucking roof. FUCK, I wish I could afford to go down to the FEST. I’ve got buddies down there and everything so lodging is taken care of… it’s just those goddamn plane tickets! I fucking hate money so much.

  2. Candice says:

    i think the happiest day of my life was when you, chris, and neil signed my ass. although going to the bar the next day after the show and having the guy working the door tell me he wanted to fuck me while calling me a slut after he showed me the video he had on his phone of himself jerking off and coming ranks up there too.

  3. Jorubo says:

    I’m and idiot (managed to delete my own comment). Anyway, yesterday at work I was told not to visit this blog anymore or “there would have to be repercussions”.
    It was well worth it.

  4. SauliosBJ123 says:

    This is the worst day of my life…because now I will go through my day trying to figure out what the hell you were getting at about your insane day.

    And the safe sex people desperately need down-to-earth people like you. Hell, I don’t know if I’ll ever not wear a condom after hearing that the thing that I might end up with will barf in my mouth.

  5. strikeeverywhere says:

    Brendan, I love your blog. You’re a great writer and its cool to at least get the feeling that I’m “getting a closer look” at someone who’s music I have enjoyed for years. Shed some more light on Chris! I wanna hear more stories about you guys coming up in bands together, tour stories, etc. Just a thought, in case you ever run out of shit to ramble about. -Josef

  6. John Brown Style says:

    I think I read this story in an interview once. If it's what I'm thinking, it is epic! Downright unimaginable. Oh hey, I was in Chicago for tour. My friend and I got drunk at the L&L and then got on the wrong green line train. Ended up in Englewood and got picked up by cops because they thought our lives were in danger. I mean, come one, it was only 2:30am.

  7. rjkdb8 says:


    I have been killing some time at the office today reading your blog and I just came across the post you made several weeks ago just after the RNC convention. This reminded me of a great Palin joke you need to hear, but because I wasnt sure if you would see a comment in an old entry, i decided that this is the best place for it. The anticipation is killing you, no? Okay, here goes:

    Q: What is the difference between Sarah Palin’s mouth and Sarah Palin’s vagina?

    A: Only some of the things that come out of her vagina are retarded.


    Hey, while I have your ear, post some new pics of my nephew on his website. I demand it!

  8. J says:

    While our daughter was being delivered my husband kept jumping between uncontrollable panic and revulsion. That was comforting.

    He fixed that by going to get a beer forty-five minutes later.

    I could see the happiest day being when you get to leave the hospital, that very well could be mine, but I second the terror in the delivery room remark.

  9. Robb says:

    See you at the Fest. I wish the Arms/Falcon would also play one of those legendary Fest house parties during non-Fest hours, but that shit would be so huge it’d be shut down in a half hour tops, I guess.

  10. michael michael motorcycle says:

    And to think all this time I’ve been *paying* people to throw up in my mouth…I just need to procreate.

    Well done sir, well done.

  11. Kyle Krische says:

    Has the set list been picked yet for Fest? Any chance of hearing new Arms stuff?

  12. Sickie27 says:

    I know of two people going to the Fest (one of which reads this blog more obsessively than I) and they keep rubbing it in my face.
    I pretty much will break their face if I have to hear about it one more time. Unless they get me a tshirt or autograph or something. Hm.

    And holy shit babies. My brother had his kid 5 years ago so I’ve gotten vomit, piss, and poop all over me. I feel for you on that one. It’s still gross even if they are so damn cute.

  13. nancy says:

    rjkdb8! You heard that on Howie yesterday morning, didn’t you? I did. Artie liked it, but Howie said it was a hard joke to re-tell.

  14. radiopore says:

    What the fuck, Brendan. You cannot leave us hanging like that. I demand the complete story on what your most insane day was. …please?

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