
I’m not a person that takes to being censored in any way very well. The muckity mucks at BeatRoute don’t like when I go off the musical beaten track in my columns but how can I not when all this shit is happening around us. How many times can I discuss shitty turnouts, poor stage changeover manners or cross booking newbie promoters.
I was looking over all my articles since October 2011 when I started writing for this paper. I touch on political issues a lot. I’m a punk. A lot of activists are punks. It’s my salute to their tireless work. Someone has to give a shit about the ‘man’ running civilization into the ground. I had written about music in reference too. I had lamented about the former shitty DJ at hockey games and people potty training at the bar. I had given up the idea of ever starting the Hellhole in this gentrification-obsessed city and wonder why I can’t sell off the Cobes fixtures I have in storage. I talked about my pickled liver and quitting the booze. I memorialized those that have passed.

