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Authors: Jenn Cooksey
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heard this exchange asked her to consider giving them a flat rate as well and it looked like Jillian was not only going to get a weekend off, but also get paid well for doing it. Among those taking a risk and flying by the seat of their pants , though , are my friends, Derek, MaryAnn, and me. I’m guessing that’s because none of us really plan on breaking the rules. Well, aside from drinking which we won’t do until after 10:00 anyway , and we’ll stay in camp and out of “public” sight so it really doesn’t count as breaking a rule. Oh, and maybe the underage brothel rule…but you and I have already discussed that so you know I’m still in the thinking about it stage of the game and not the planning stage.
So, we spent the first night of our trip being pretty quiet. Most everyone, adults, teens, and kids just hung around the campfire and relaxed while listening to the softer music stylings of DJ Jazzy K. After that, Brandon and a couple of my uncles strummed on their guitars and sang a bit , and it was during this period of time that I learned four things: One, Brandon is in a real band. Two, Melissa can actually really sing. I mean not like American Idol sing, but she can definitely carry a tune nicely. Three, I’m even more grateful her parents aren’t mine. And four, the four teens I hadn’t met before and whom I’m still rather unacquainted with , are the kind of Bible thumping snobs that give the rest of the Christian community a bad name.
Okay, now I know I’m not exactly the most exemplary follower of God’s, but I do believe in Him and I at least try to be a good person based on His rules. I just don’t happen to believe that God will look less kindly on me based on the kind of music I listen to or whether I have a tattoo or twelve, you know? However, I’m guessing these kids forgot that whole thing in the Bible that says something like judge not lest you be judged, because with one look at Brandon, they totally picked up the gavel and slammed it down in judgment. And as far as I could tell, the only reason they had to do so at that time was based on Brandon’s physical appearance.
I don’t think I ever really described him before, but Brandon looks pretty much like what you’d expect a guy who’s in a working rock band to look like. He has, actually, kind of pretty, icy-gray eyes and super dark brown hair that’s on the longer side in the middle because it’s still growing out from the Mohawk he had the first time I met him in October. His hair also perpetually looks like he just rolled out of bed, but it looks good , if that makes sense. He’s not especially tall and even though he’s not especially muscular either and his upper body is depicted with art that I gather wasn’t drawn on with Crayola washable markers, you can see he does have well-defined muscles—all of which was noticed when he was shirtless this afternoon. Both his ears are pierced two or three times each and there’s a very definite edge to him, like you know without a doubt that he totally walks on the wild side of life and probably always will. Like a dark, untamable horse. So yeah, he’s totally what I would call the epitome of “dirty-hot.” And yes, in my opinion he’s pretty damned nice to look at, although I do still get that “tread carefully here” feeling about him. But still…just because he might look like a hell-bound pagan to some, it doesn’t mean he is one.
See, here’s how the whole trial without jury played out… We were all enjoying the random riffs Brandon and my uncles were coming up with , but the four pious teens had totally been giving Brandon the stank-eye all evening, they just weren’t actually saying anything… yet . I’m sure he noticed , too, but he didn’t seem to care one way or another. However, about thirty minutes into the jam session, Brandon began to blend in the beginning of Ozzy Ozbourne’s “Mama I’m Comin’ Home.” It’s a fairly slow and melodic song
So, we spent the first night of our trip being pretty quiet. Most everyone, adults, teens, and kids just hung around the campfire and relaxed while listening to the softer music stylings of DJ Jazzy K. After that, Brandon and a couple of my uncles strummed on their guitars and sang a bit , and it was during this period of time that I learned four things: One, Brandon is in a real band. Two, Melissa can actually really sing. I mean not like American Idol sing, but she can definitely carry a tune nicely. Three, I’m even more grateful her parents aren’t mine. And four, the four teens I hadn’t met before and whom I’m still rather unacquainted with , are the kind of Bible thumping snobs that give the rest of the Christian community a bad name.
Okay, now I know I’m not exactly the most exemplary follower of God’s, but I do believe in Him and I at least try to be a good person based on His rules. I just don’t happen to believe that God will look less kindly on me based on the kind of music I listen to or whether I have a tattoo or twelve, you know? However, I’m guessing these kids forgot that whole thing in the Bible that says something like judge not lest you be judged, because with one look at Brandon, they totally picked up the gavel and slammed it down in judgment. And as far as I could tell, the only reason they had to do so at that time was based on Brandon’s physical appearance.
I don’t think I ever really described him before, but Brandon looks pretty much like what you’d expect a guy who’s in a working rock band to look like. He has, actually, kind of pretty, icy-gray eyes and super dark brown hair that’s on the longer side in the middle because it’s still growing out from the Mohawk he had the first time I met him in October. His hair also perpetually looks like he just rolled out of bed, but it looks good , if that makes sense. He’s not especially tall and even though he’s not especially muscular either and his upper body is depicted with art that I gather wasn’t drawn on with Crayola washable markers, you can see he does have well-defined muscles—all of which was noticed when he was shirtless this afternoon. Both his ears are pierced two or three times each and there’s a very definite edge to him, like you know without a doubt that he totally walks on the wild side of life and probably always will. Like a dark, untamable horse. So yeah, he’s totally what I would call the epitome of “dirty-hot.” And yes, in my opinion he’s pretty damned nice to look at, although I do still get that “tread carefully here” feeling about him. But still…just because he might look like a hell-bound pagan to some, it doesn’t mean he is one.
See, here’s how the whole trial without jury played out… We were all enjoying the random riffs Brandon and my uncles were coming up with , but the four pious teens had totally been giving Brandon the stank-eye all evening, they just weren’t actually saying anything… yet . I’m sure he noticed , too, but he didn’t seem to care one way or another. However, about thirty minutes into the jam session, Brandon began to blend in the beginning of Ozzy Ozbourne’s “Mama I’m Comin’ Home.” It’s a fairly slow and melodic song
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