No Music... Ever!
Diary Of BJ
I'll start off with how I met those two crazy fuckers with my same dream:
I was standing outside looking at the one lone tree in every single persons yard. I was born to rebel and my parents knew it, so I was allowed to do whatever I wanted. I never wore those stupid uniforms at school. I always wore black cargo jeans, with a (unfortunately) solid colour T-shirt. I wanted to wear band shirts, but those were just memories.
Every single person on my street had one tree and one small garden in the space between the pavement of the porch, walkway, and driveway. Luckily the houses could be different, my house, compared to those around us, was huge and for a good reason. We were rich. But we didn't live like rich people, sure our house was huge, but only because the soundproofing was six inches thick and our basement housed hundreds of instruments that were supposed to be destroyed. My family had connections, not all of the government was evil, conniving bastards, who hated music, and 446 years ago they got instruments brought to them along with replacement parts, accessories, and tools needed to repair them.
Anyway, I was standing outside looking at the uniformity and, quite honestly, hating every fucking minute of it. Oh, my family never had rules on swearing so when I get carried away or I'm just stating the obvious, I curse.
Back to the point, a friend of a friend came over to me and said, "Hey, I was wondering if you knew if Hall was home?"
I looked at him, Hall was the friend we both knew, and I noticed that he had a guitar pick on a necklace, so I said, "You might want to put that away... Blue."
He looked at me slightly shocked and said, "Uh... Thanks, green eyes."
I smiled, "So, Stanley, what's up?"
He smiled back, "Pinhead."
I grinned and when I grin I look evil, "Inside."
We walked into my house. We all knew certain code words that could identify a 'safe' person or one who believed in music. I sat him down on the sofa and walked into the kitchen.
My mom was there looking at a security monitory, "Who is he?"
I looked at her, "Um... hold on." I yelled back into the living room, "Who are you?"
He yelled back, "I'm *** , but my close friends call me Dirnty. Who are you?"
I grinned at my mom, "He's Dirnty." I giggled before I reply yelled, "I'm ***, but call me BJ."
My mom looked at him and then me, "Dorks. "
"Hey, you fucking nicknamed me."
My mom stuck her tongue out at me.
I stuck my tongue out at her back, and grabbed two root beers out of the fridge and headed back to the living room.
I looked at him, "So, what do you play?" It wasn't rude to say this because every single one of us could play an instrument... or eight.
He grinned, "Oh, the guitar mostly, but I like to play bass, mandolin, and violin."
I hugged him, I couldn't help it, he's just so damn huggable and it's been years since I've met anyone outside of my family who played an instrument.
He looked at me for a second, "You've only known me for what, four minutes? Do I get any other benefits when we're closer, like, twenty minutes from now?"
I grinned at him, "Maybe."
He smiled, I melted, and then he said, "So, you're a BJist?"
"Nope, I'm a Dirntist. Hehe, it sounds like dentist."
"Dork!" That was my mom from the kitchen.
"Oh, yeah... well, I'm YOUR daughter!" I yelled back.
"Oh, no! Noooo!" She walked into the living room with her hands on her cheeks in a mock scream.
I hung my head in shame.
She laughed and walked to her room.
"Wow, your mom is..." Dirnty started.
Then my mom said, "I can hear you."
"Cool." He finished quickly, and then he said, "I'm a BJist. What do you play?"
"BASS!!! And um, violin, clarinet, and some drums. Oh, and guitar."
He looked at me like I was nuts, "You just yelled bass for no reason."
"GUITAR!!!"
He grinned, "CLARINET!!"
"VIOLIN!!"
"Hey! That's mine! Er... DRUMS!!"
"MANDOLIN!!!"
"BANJO!!"
"You just said banjo?"
"Yeah, so?"
While we were yelling my mom had snuck up behind me and, just then, crashed cymbals right by my head, "AHHH!!!"
Dirnty fell over laughing.
I yelled to my mom, "I'm deaf, I hope you're happy!"
My mom grinned and I didn't hear what she said. I was deaf for a little while so when I could hear, I pretended I couldn't. But when Dirnty asked my mom if BJ stood for blowjob, I started laughing.
My mom looked at him and smacked him on the arm and then looked at me, "I knew you could hear! Now both of you go to BJ's room. I don't want to see you for the next two hours!"
I looked at Dirnty, "Can you stay for two hours?"
Dirnty just nodded and stared at my mom like she was crazy, I don't blame him.
"Okay." So I led him to my room. We sat on the bed and just looked at each other.
Dirnty here, I remember this, I thought her mom was nuts. Apparently so did she. But BJ's cool, in a crazy way. I'm kind of crazy too, hmm, I wonder if my brother will let me stay over. He always says I need to get laid. Not like I wanna sleep with her, I mean we just met and... well, I think she is hot... it's just... I mean I'd like too, but... I hope she never finds this. I think I'll be in trouble if she finds this.
I was standing outside looking at the one lone tree in every single persons yard. I was born to rebel and my parents knew it, so I was allowed to do whatever I wanted. I never wore those stupid uniforms at school. I always wore black cargo jeans, with a (unfortunately) solid colour T-shirt. I wanted to wear band shirts, but those were just memories.
Every single person on my street had one tree and one small garden in the space between the pavement of the porch, walkway, and driveway. Luckily the houses could be different, my house, compared to those around us, was huge and for a good reason. We were rich. But we didn't live like rich people, sure our house was huge, but only because the soundproofing was six inches thick and our basement housed hundreds of instruments that were supposed to be destroyed. My family had connections, not all of the government was evil, conniving bastards, who hated music, and 446 years ago they got instruments brought to them along with replacement parts, accessories, and tools needed to repair them.
Anyway, I was standing outside looking at the uniformity and, quite honestly, hating every fucking minute of it. Oh, my family never had rules on swearing so when I get carried away or I'm just stating the obvious, I curse.
Back to the point, a friend of a friend came over to me and said, "Hey, I was wondering if you knew if Hall was home?"
I looked at him, Hall was the friend we both knew, and I noticed that he had a guitar pick on a necklace, so I said, "You might want to put that away... Blue."
He looked at me slightly shocked and said, "Uh... Thanks, green eyes."
I smiled, "So, Stanley, what's up?"
He smiled back, "Pinhead."
I grinned and when I grin I look evil, "Inside."
We walked into my house. We all knew certain code words that could identify a 'safe' person or one who believed in music. I sat him down on the sofa and walked into the kitchen.
My mom was there looking at a security monitory, "Who is he?"
I looked at her, "Um... hold on." I yelled back into the living room, "Who are you?"
He yelled back, "I'm *** , but my close friends call me Dirnty. Who are you?"
I grinned at my mom, "He's Dirnty." I giggled before I reply yelled, "I'm ***, but call me BJ."
My mom looked at him and then me, "Dorks. "
"Hey, you fucking nicknamed me."
My mom stuck her tongue out at me.
I stuck my tongue out at her back, and grabbed two root beers out of the fridge and headed back to the living room.
I looked at him, "So, what do you play?" It wasn't rude to say this because every single one of us could play an instrument... or eight.
He grinned, "Oh, the guitar mostly, but I like to play bass, mandolin, and violin."
I hugged him, I couldn't help it, he's just so damn huggable and it's been years since I've met anyone outside of my family who played an instrument.
He looked at me for a second, "You've only known me for what, four minutes? Do I get any other benefits when we're closer, like, twenty minutes from now?"
I grinned at him, "Maybe."
He smiled, I melted, and then he said, "So, you're a BJist?"
"Nope, I'm a Dirntist. Hehe, it sounds like dentist."
"Dork!" That was my mom from the kitchen.
"Oh, yeah... well, I'm YOUR daughter!" I yelled back.
"Oh, no! Noooo!" She walked into the living room with her hands on her cheeks in a mock scream.
I hung my head in shame.
She laughed and walked to her room.
"Wow, your mom is..." Dirnty started.
Then my mom said, "I can hear you."
"Cool." He finished quickly, and then he said, "I'm a BJist. What do you play?"
"BASS!!! And um, violin, clarinet, and some drums. Oh, and guitar."
He looked at me like I was nuts, "You just yelled bass for no reason."
"GUITAR!!!"
He grinned, "CLARINET!!"
"VIOLIN!!"
"Hey! That's mine! Er... DRUMS!!"
"MANDOLIN!!!"
"BANJO!!"
"You just said banjo?"
"Yeah, so?"
While we were yelling my mom had snuck up behind me and, just then, crashed cymbals right by my head, "AHHH!!!"
Dirnty fell over laughing.
I yelled to my mom, "I'm deaf, I hope you're happy!"
My mom grinned and I didn't hear what she said. I was deaf for a little while so when I could hear, I pretended I couldn't. But when Dirnty asked my mom if BJ stood for blowjob, I started laughing.
My mom looked at him and smacked him on the arm and then looked at me, "I knew you could hear! Now both of you go to BJ's room. I don't want to see you for the next two hours!"
I looked at Dirnty, "Can you stay for two hours?"
Dirnty just nodded and stared at my mom like she was crazy, I don't blame him.
"Okay." So I led him to my room. We sat on the bed and just looked at each other.
Dirnty here, I remember this, I thought her mom was nuts. Apparently so did she. But BJ's cool, in a crazy way. I'm kind of crazy too, hmm, I wonder if my brother will let me stay over. He always says I need to get laid. Not like I wanna sleep with her, I mean we just met and... well, I think she is hot... it's just... I mean I'd like too, but... I hope she never finds this. I think I'll be in trouble if she finds this.