Sometimes, I feel like I am completely faking it

I love the women in my life.

Last night I was talking with TGB about that very fact and how it's almost intimidating.

Then I blamed her; amazing human beings attract other amazing human beings.

Also, I think some of the amazing women in my life want to sleep with my wife.

Yesterday I posted a thing on social media and a buddy of mine posted a song lyric as a comment. I was stoked 1. because I knew the song (literally the only Bad Religion song I know) and 2. because I had been wondering all day, do I like punk rock or just punk rockers?

It was a bit of a existential crisis I was having. A buddy of mine asked people to tell him their favorite punk rock album and I spent the day wondering if I could name one.

Sure there was London Calling and Nevermind the Bollocks, but those two are so commercially successful that it seems counter to punk rock, and beyond that...

What about Blondie or The Talking Heads, I grew up listening to them. Did you call it punk when you were a kid? 

No. I called it music. Fuck.

Then I wondered, is Frank Turner really punk or punk adjacent? For that matter is Flogging Molly really punk? I mean, I grew up in the 70s and 80s when punk sounded way more disjointed than the sweet, sweet melodies of FM.

I thought, ooohhh, I love Mickey Rickshaw and The Attack! 

Then my brain screamed,  NEWB!

I felt like a fraud. Like I don't have actual punk rock credentials. For a minute I felt like the uncool kid.

Then I remembered being 11. There was a half empty pack of cigarettes on the street so I picked it up and lit one. I inhaled like I had seen my dad always do and it was smooth and delicious. The kids I was hanging with were rightly impressed, but I hadn't done it for them.

I did it because I wanted to.

Same reason I listen to the shit I listen to. Same reason I do anything.

Titty sprinkles!


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