check your sugarcoat at the door

hyprocrite

Red is not the color for me. It’s unattractive and painful and currently smothering my arms and shoulders. My sunblock diligence has been utter fail this year and this is at least the dozenth time I’ve been near tears while trying to put my bra on. There’s a reason I always have a full bottle of aloe in the fridge.

I can’t complain too much. My burn was earned yesterday, alongside the ocean, at Warped Tour in Ventura. These tours usually don’t cater to my taste but I was like a small child in my giddy happiness for Less Than Jake and I fed my guitly pleasure by seeing the Ataris for the first time in ten years. TSOL, Bad Religion, Long Way, and punk rock karaoke were especially entertaining too.

Trevor of Long Way, rockin’ guitar from four billion feet. 

I used to be all about the moshing and the crowd surfing. Now it just exhausts me to watch. What does that say?

And… I don’t want to be a hypocrite, as I’m all pro-body mod and have dabbled in it myself (nothing extreme) but I DO NOT GET the ear holes I can put my fist through. Someone please help me understand so I can stop gawking like the rest of the world.

-CJ

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