I wish they were on methadone

So Travis from the Cute Lepers is dead. I wish I could make that sound starker, but you fucking can't.

Dead.

DEAD.

Dead from mixing pills and booze, apparently. (Joe Queer is saying it's heroin, but Joe Queer says a lot of things.) I've done this before and I'm sure more than a few of my readers have done the exact same thing. You're hanging out in the vicinity of a show and drinking; someone offers you some pills which you take cause hey why not? Most of us wake up.

Sex and drugs are really two verboten subjects on the punk circuit. If you sing about them too openly and/or too joyously, you're seen as a poser. Someone who doesn't get it. Punks don't sing about smoking weed or getting laid, do they? Human beings do stuff like that, and no tru punx would ever be caught doing stuff a real human would do. After all, the trash at Gilman needs taking out.

I don't mean to turn this into a manifesto or take advantage of Travis' death just to make a point. Sometimes when we lose someone, we freak out as a community. I say we take the pertinent lesson and hopefully move on. It's terrible what happeneded, and we hope nothing but the best for the families.


Provie It: http://www.mediafire.com/?ujcarycyyzz

Terminal Boredom: http://www.mediafire.com/?ldjmq3xmily

Cool City: http://www.mediafire.com/?govmjzmjxoj