Wednesday, February 2, 2011

The Adventures of the Married Metal Man--How to Get to a Show

U.S.A.! U.S.A.!
My internet has been down all morning; I was going to try to not have to rush to write something this morning, but Ye Olde Interbung had different plans for me.  It just took a brief vacation.  Or maybe it had to take a collective dump.  One way or the other, it's really cramping my style.  I tried to ignore it as best I could, so I started playing the Bulletstorm demo that I downloaded (it rules so hard).  I was having an amazing round of making people explode in mid-flight when my XBox freaked the fuck out and just froze.  Though I got an amazing screenshot of a dude getting wrapped up with a flail gun round while another dude gets impaled on some environmental hazard, it totally bummed me out.  I checked the modem, and lo and behold, my Interhole connection was back in effect, which is no doubt what caused my XBox to panic and just stop.

So here I am.

If you're in a relationship, you know that getting away from that person is sometimes really, really difficult.  It's always questions like "Where are you going?" and "When will you be back?" and "Why are you wearing a ski mask?"  I hate it.  The tricks for the married metal man to get out and see your main show d00dz have to be executed very subtle-like, because if the lady in your life catches on that you just need to get the hell away from her for a few hours to drink beer and watch crusty dudes play br00tal music, she might take offense.  And unless you're in the worst relationship of your life and your girl insists on tagging along to metal shows, where you can pay an extra cover to watch her NOT ENJOY A SHOW AT ALL and then leave early, you'll need to find a way to bamboozle her into thinking that it's no big deal for you to go out and hang out with your friends until 2 am on a worknight.

The first trick you can use is to tell her that she needs to have a girls' night with her friends.  "You never get together with your friends anymore; [jokingly] do they even remember what you look like anymore?"  Ha ha ha.  Then you encourage her to get away from you so that she can have a nice evening with a group of people that, let's face it, you probably hate anyway.  And that's fine; I've met very few people who are married who actually like more than one or two of their mate's friends.  But this will free you up and make you look like a philanthropist at the same time.  Take the evening to play some video games and get out to a show, and if you have a spare 15 seconds between Call of Duty deathmatches, you can even beat off.  It's amazing, the way your anniversary is supposed to be but never is.

The next trick involves more cunning, and is therefore more fun and exciting to pull off.  Volunteer for a menial chore like going to the grocery store or getting the oil in your car changed, and then just leave.  When you come back all late, make up a fantastical story about U.F.O. abductions and government spies.  If you can get her to believe you, you've got it made.  The alternate to this is to simply drug her, and then leave.  It's the only legal use for Roofies, and no court in the country will convict you because the juries are full of your peers, and all of the men wish that they had the balls to do it themselves.

Finally, you can take the direct approach (which is what I do).  Walk up to your lady a couple days in advance (if possible), look her in the eye, and say "Listen up, bitch.  Can I please go to a show?!?  I really want to see the band and all my friends are going to be there!  PLEAAAASE!"  And then you start crying.  It usually works, but you're not going to be going to shows every night using this approach because the part of your taint you have to pinch to make yourself cry will get all tender and bruised, and that's worse than missing the third Skeletonwitch show of the last 4 months, believe me.  Also, for maximum effect, you'll probably want to leave off the first part of the exchange, where you call her a bitch.

I know plenty of people who have to miss out on their favorite bands because their wives always have some faggy co-ed bridal shower or a cotillion that she's already committed herself and her poor, stupid husband to on any given day.  Using my methods will ensure that he--and you--will get to leave the house and hit the streets unsupervised for reasons other than picking up feminine hygiene products or milk or whatever.  And it's glorious.

Tune in next time when I tell you all the best ways to trick your wife into believing that she's okay with you being in a band.


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