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DECEMBER 2008 |
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Doing That Thing You Do
I wanted to start a band called OK Computer. We would play Radiohead songs on a karaoke machine and sing the
lyrics from Slayer’s “Angel of Death” over and over. One member in our band wouldn’t know how to play any
instruments. He would throw old monitors off the stage. Actually, none of us would know how to play any
instruments, but all of us, except the monitor thrower, would pretend to play instruments. I think this is a
very successful idea. I want people to write articles about the band and call me a genius. Things would get
confusing though when someone else steals my idea, but calls the band Paranoid Android and sings the lyrics to
the Misfits’ “Last Caress” instead. I like this song, but I think this would still make me very moody at my job
for a lot of days in a row. I would open up a Word document each day and hit the CTRL+TAB buttons over and over.
CTRL+TAB does the same thing as TAB does by itself. I do not know why I would also press CTRL. I would probably
do this until I was on page 300914 of the Word document. I think things would start to look up when the office
gets a new secretary and she buys a new coffee machine. The old one has been broken ever since someone took it in
the men’s room and smashed it in a urinal. I will not lie. I did this while practicing stage moves for OK
Computer. Also, things will get better when the drummer in Paranoid Android puts his arm into a meat shredder and
then falls asleep out front of the office building where I work. I think he’ll be dead and there will be a big
funeral and the band will think, “Maybe we shouldn’t go on with Paranoid Android because it was the drummer’s
idea that we should be called Paranoid Android,” even though it wasn’t really his idea, he will have stolen it
from me when we had biology together and he saw me drawing a computer saying “OK,” next to a Slayer pentagram. So
there will be a lot of problems like the blood stains in front of the office building never coming out, and my
girlfriend getting drugged at the dentist and having her brain become half retarded, and my father saying, “You
can’t dump her now. She needs you. Be a man. Marry her,” and I’ll get her pregnant so I’ll have a valid reason
why I’m marrying a half-brain girl, but then Paranoid Android will ask me if I want to play drums and I’ll say,
“All right, let’s do this,” and at the first show I’ll yell “Monarch to the kingdom of the dead” and other lyrics
from “Angel of Death” while my bandmates sing “Last Caress” and we’ll go straight to the top. Once Krammer woke up and found a dead horse and then woke up. He’s been published places. He sometimes blogs about those places. |
