Me, Hookers, and Gravehill: Part 2

I moved to California from Texas back in 2001 because I didn't have anything better to do. My roommate was my best friend from the Army days and we were both jobless and living off the government's dime (and my credit card). As much as the Army had cleaned me up, I fell back into some old habits. I started smoking pot again and since I lived in the hood (commonly known as Riverside), I was required to start smoking crack. It was part of my lease unfortunately.

This chick had the highest quality crack.

Many a night was spent sitting around playing video games, eating TV dinners, and talking about getting jobs. Now don't get me wrong, my roommate (let's call him Ru Paul) and I went out to several job interviews but 90% of them were scams. I actually scammed people into signing up for a modeling agency that was pretty much nonexistent. I feel bad about it now, but shit, I got to talk to hot chicks without them running away in terror. Let's see, I also tried the door-to-door salesman routine but every time I knocked on some poor schmoe's door I wanted to kick my own ass.

"As you can see here, ma'am, there is a clause
that says you can beat my ass with your
walking stick at any time during this conversation."

Money was running dry, we had used the last of any cash reserves to pay for at least one more month in the apartment, and my credit card was maxed out. As luck would have it, Ru Paul found a temp agency and got a job within a couple of days. I signed up at the same place and got a job just as quickly. This was an actual grown up job. Monday to Friday, 8-5, benefits, vacation and sick days, man...what the fuck was this. I was officially an adult! It only took me 27 years to get there.

Before I knew any of the turd burglars in Gravehill, most of my weeknights and weekends were spent looking for any and all metal shows. There were none too big and none too small. I just wanted to watch bands play. Another good friend of mine (let's call him BeelzeBob) knew Lilith Sanchez whose father owned the infamous Wild Rags Records and in turn, Lili eventually hooked up with Thorgrimm. Frequent parties were held at Lili and Thorgrimm's pad and that's where I met a majority of the creeps I hang out with today. That's also where I got the Gravehill demo "Metal of Death". Soon after, Thorgrimm gave me "The Advocation of Murder and Suicide" EP. Gravehill knew I played guitar because of a previous black metal project I worked on so Thorgrimm approached me soon after they sacked their bass player and asked if I wanted to play bass for them. I think my reply was, "Nah. I got better things to do." I was a fan of the band but I was trying to pursue a career in Hip Hop so my priorities were elsewhere.

Months later, I started to get bored again and my Hip Hop dreams were dashed upon the unforgiving rocks of the music industry. Did you know there were already white Hip Hop artists out there?? Fuck, if I would have known, I wouldn't have tried. My goal of trying to start up another LA Dream Team was crushed.

R.I.P. Dreams of fortune and fame! :(

I hadn't smoked, inhaled, or taken a suppository full of PCP in several years since getting my grown up job. While I was making decent money and still in party mode every once in a while, I realized that perhaps I needed a money pit to sink my dollars into instead of saving and investing like I was. So in September 2008 at the Masters of Metal show in San Bernardino, Thorgrimm once again propositioned me, "So we still need a bass player..." And I said, "Fuck it. Okay. I don't have anything else better to do."

Coming up next on Me, Hookers, and Gravehill: Part 3-

The evolution of the Helmet, Mexican Hookers, and my first show.