Buddy's Blog

I posted a Facebook status asking people what they would like me to write about for this upcoming AP blog, and I got back myriad responses ranging from the intuitive to the retarded. My two favorites by far were, "How many times a day do you fuck fish?" and "Why I suck for saying you suck?"

I think I can actually formulate a well thought-out answer for the various reasons why someone can "suck" for claiming that someone else "sucks." I think we have to start from the ground floor to answer this question. We have to start with a blanket statement that "everyone sucks." That's right, everyone at some point, if not very often, blows it, fucks up and acts like an asshole. I've come to find the word "asshole" to be an endearing barb, a substitute for what people really want to say; which is, "Buddy, you're a warm, kind-hearted guy and I thank you for being you."

See, in New Jersey, we're very limited and short with our communication amongst each other. We basically speak in a sophisticated form of clicks and whistles, but instead we use insults and original explicative phrases to show love and disapproval, New Jersey just might be a linguist’s worst nightmare. A lot of people over the years have called me an asshole—some rightfully and others unjustly. When it comes from those close to me, I take note that I have faltered in some way. When it comes from the anonymous cloak of a crowd, I laugh. And when it comes from the internet, I will now start asking, "Why do you suck for saying I suck?”

I'm not really sure there is a straight answer for that. I don't really think that other people suck for not liking me. On the contrary, I actually kind of like it. It's in the same ballpark of emotions I used to get when I would torture my sister when I was younger—it's that same giddy emotion that says, "I'm getting to you."

People in bands are usually very insecure—especially frontmen. That's one reason they have been able to be successful: they are driven by the need to be accepted. I am driven by the love of music and this scene. I have no appetite for approval—my own approval means more to me than anyone else's. But my personal grading system is harsher than Joe the plumber on the internet.

The simple fact is, that yes, I am an asshole, and if you knew me, that would be something you could ultimately decide was either a good thing or a bad thing. My mother finds my sense of humor and quick whit charming, while ex-girlfriends might find me flip and rude. But these people have actually met and spent time with me, whilst internet goons will not have that pleasure.