I have "Brian Warner's disease." It's well documented and some days it's much worse than others. What is "Brian Warner's Disease," you say? Taken from his autobiography titled "The Long Hard Road out of Hell," it's a condition where if you are around cops, you feel instantly guilty...even if you've done nothing. Whenever I have police interaction, I tend to end up feeling like I've done something wrong or I have to be on my best behavior or whatever. I can only think of two instances in the past year when I haven't had this happen when a cop appeared before me: when I tripped over the hood of a highway patrol-car and when I got my first traffic ticket a month ago.
Here's why this anecdote is relevent: I'm the suspect in a crime in Valley City. Around 2am on Friday evening, a car was beaten without mercy with a brick or something. There were three witnesses that said the perpetrator was over 6'2", wearing khakis, a button-up shirt, medium-build, and was wearing a hat. I happened to be at the apartment building where this took place, but not at the same time. Katie and I went up to this party at like 1:15 but left half an hour later because the party sucked...and because there were cop cars outside. She hadn't drank that evening so nothing would have happened to her, but we still decided to take off. So we do, get into my car, and drive down the hill back to Robertson. We get into the building, run into Mark, those two smoke while I sit out there and talk to them, then Katie and I go to bed.
Next morning rolls around and the shit has hit the fan. The guy's car is fucked up (i have it on good authority that it's quite the nice car. keep in mind i've never met this guy in my entire life!), and the cops are calling people that were at the party. My name keeps popping up from the people who were outside (the eye-witnesses), but the people who were inside were saying that I left after the cops came the first time. It's one big mess, and I'm trying to straighten it out. This guy that is/was trying to fuck Katie is orchestrating it, we think. Stranger things have happened, but it's a mess that I really didn't need to find myself in. Few quick things on this subject before i'm done:
1). Medium build? I'm a fat motherfucker, motherfucker!
2). Hat? I haven't worn a hat regularly other than a beanie on bad-hair days since I was in 7th grade. And even then it was because I was on the wrestling team and I didn't know any better.
3). So i'm trying to get this straightend out with the detective, but she's never in. Today and tomorrow she's sick, yesterday she couldn't make it, and Wednesday I'm busy as fuck. If, when I give my statement, there is even any reason for me to doubt that they believe me, i'm getting a lawyer.
On a much more ... well, it's a different note anyway... My band played a benefit concert on Saturday evening. Watching girls grind to our new, tribal version of Thriller was quite the sight. Not sure that i'll ever forget that. Other things of interest at the show included me, drunk off my ass, trying to sing the song "Alcohol." We have pictures and it doesn't even give it justice. It was the end of my set, and I didn't care. And neither did the drunk girls and frat guys that were there, as they were singing along with it. The problem with the benefit is that no one really came. Like we brought our friends and they brought some people but that was it. Why did no one come? We were competing with Valley City's prom. The woman who organized it doesn't have a lot going on upstairs. The other bands really pulled it off too and I was impressed overall that all of our hardwork paid off...even if I was a little tipsy.
Which leads me to the end of that evening. The girl who organized it was throwing a bonfire afterwards and we (katie and I) were invited. This wasn't my weekend for parties, I've decided. So we go and she made it sound like it was just a mile or two down the road from Kathryn (where we played the benefit, it's 15 miles south of Valley City) but it was more like 20, and through lots of dirt/gravel roads. The bonfire sucked, katie was about to pass out from exhaustion, so we take off and I take a couple of wrong turns. We ended up in fort ransom hoping there was a gas station but nothing was open. i'm going back there one day with gas...but it won't be for visiting, skiing, or whatever the fuck normal people do. I'm burning that fucker to the ground.
My needle is deep in the red by the time I finally flagged someone down and I'm 10 miles from the road to the interstate... and it's 33 miles from there. I was praying to any diety that would listen as we sped down the road. We made it back about 4am and the needle was actually below the red. This proves two things:
1). That when I paid Rydell to fix the sensor they either did it incorrectly or it's fucked up again.
2). That I need to avoid central North Dakota.
Hopefully I'm nearly done in Valley. Parts of me happy, parts sad, but i'm going home. Hopefully next update I'll have better news than this.
Here's why this anecdote is relevent: I'm the suspect in a crime in Valley City. Around 2am on Friday evening, a car was beaten without mercy with a brick or something. There were three witnesses that said the perpetrator was over 6'2", wearing khakis, a button-up shirt, medium-build, and was wearing a hat. I happened to be at the apartment building where this took place, but not at the same time. Katie and I went up to this party at like 1:15 but left half an hour later because the party sucked...and because there were cop cars outside. She hadn't drank that evening so nothing would have happened to her, but we still decided to take off. So we do, get into my car, and drive down the hill back to Robertson. We get into the building, run into Mark, those two smoke while I sit out there and talk to them, then Katie and I go to bed.
Next morning rolls around and the shit has hit the fan. The guy's car is fucked up (i have it on good authority that it's quite the nice car. keep in mind i've never met this guy in my entire life!), and the cops are calling people that were at the party. My name keeps popping up from the people who were outside (the eye-witnesses), but the people who were inside were saying that I left after the cops came the first time. It's one big mess, and I'm trying to straighten it out. This guy that is/was trying to fuck Katie is orchestrating it, we think. Stranger things have happened, but it's a mess that I really didn't need to find myself in. Few quick things on this subject before i'm done:
1). Medium build? I'm a fat motherfucker, motherfucker!
2). Hat? I haven't worn a hat regularly other than a beanie on bad-hair days since I was in 7th grade. And even then it was because I was on the wrestling team and I didn't know any better.
3). So i'm trying to get this straightend out with the detective, but she's never in. Today and tomorrow she's sick, yesterday she couldn't make it, and Wednesday I'm busy as fuck. If, when I give my statement, there is even any reason for me to doubt that they believe me, i'm getting a lawyer.
On a much more ... well, it's a different note anyway... My band played a benefit concert on Saturday evening. Watching girls grind to our new, tribal version of Thriller was quite the sight. Not sure that i'll ever forget that. Other things of interest at the show included me, drunk off my ass, trying to sing the song "Alcohol." We have pictures and it doesn't even give it justice. It was the end of my set, and I didn't care. And neither did the drunk girls and frat guys that were there, as they were singing along with it. The problem with the benefit is that no one really came. Like we brought our friends and they brought some people but that was it. Why did no one come? We were competing with Valley City's prom. The woman who organized it doesn't have a lot going on upstairs. The other bands really pulled it off too and I was impressed overall that all of our hardwork paid off...even if I was a little tipsy.
Which leads me to the end of that evening. The girl who organized it was throwing a bonfire afterwards and we (katie and I) were invited. This wasn't my weekend for parties, I've decided. So we go and she made it sound like it was just a mile or two down the road from Kathryn (where we played the benefit, it's 15 miles south of Valley City) but it was more like 20, and through lots of dirt/gravel roads. The bonfire sucked, katie was about to pass out from exhaustion, so we take off and I take a couple of wrong turns. We ended up in fort ransom hoping there was a gas station but nothing was open. i'm going back there one day with gas...but it won't be for visiting, skiing, or whatever the fuck normal people do. I'm burning that fucker to the ground.
My needle is deep in the red by the time I finally flagged someone down and I'm 10 miles from the road to the interstate... and it's 33 miles from there. I was praying to any diety that would listen as we sped down the road. We made it back about 4am and the needle was actually below the red. This proves two things:
1). That when I paid Rydell to fix the sensor they either did it incorrectly or it's fucked up again.
2). That I need to avoid central North Dakota.
Hopefully I'm nearly done in Valley. Parts of me happy, parts sad, but i'm going home. Hopefully next update I'll have better news than this.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
hubble_____:
As long as these guys don't turn up...
southernbelle:
Wow...that's some crazy stuff going on. I hope it all works out!