….my Butchered at Birth tee-shirt….

I’ve officially gone mad, I’m writing posts about old tee shirts šŸ˜‰

Well, commenter pugsfugly mentioned Cannibal Corpse in my Metal By the Numbers post. Now, this is a band I’ve got some history with. No, I wasn’t a former singer growler or anything like that. At this point in my life, I don’t listen to them that often. I guess I’ve, well, matured isn’t the right word for it, no one who knows me in real life calls me mature. But I will say I love Alex Webster’s side project Blotted Science.

So, back to it….

“Butchered at Birth” was the first death metal CD I ever bought. I was still a youngin at this point. In fact, a few weeks before I tried to buy a Playboy or Hustler at Waldenbooks and the cashier, a 20 something guy with a scruffy beard laughed and said, “Wait till your 18, studmuffin.” The cute college girl in the register next to him condescendingly rolled her eyes. Well, this CD was, let’s just say a little more intense than a wank mag. It showed two zombies cutting the fetus from a dead woman. And there was that Parental Advisory label. Yeah, I was nervous they weren’t gonna let me buy it. As luck would have it, I went through the register of a gruff and grisly looking guy. He didn’t even flinch when I handed him the CD. He took my cash without making eye contact. Maybe he was some free thinking, libertarian artist type who opposed censorship. Or, maybe just too hung over to give a shit. Anyways, the CD was mine….

A few weeks later, I was at an alternative record store with my dad. Not just an alternative record store, but THE alternative record store in my tiny bass ackwards home town. There was a “Butchered at Birth” tee shirt hanging on the wall. I asked my dad if he’d get it for me. He’s kinda absent minded and I don’t think he even looked at it. We went to the register and got the shirt. My parents were divorced since I was a little kid. So “dear ol” Dad walked back with me to my Mom’s house. Notice I said walked, he never learned how to drive and she’d always bring that up in her long winded tirades against him.

I ran up to my room and threw the shirt on. I walked down the stairs, when my mom saw the shirt, her facial expression looked like this. She was speechless, and when your dealing with a second wave feminist, that’s a good thing šŸ˜‰ The next person to see it was my uncle. He’s a true character. I don’t think he could be described in a single blog post and unless you’ve had the misfortune of being to any of the rust belt areas of the East Coast, you probably couldn’t imagine such a creature existing outside of an HP Lovecraft story. Alright, maybe I’m exaggerating, but only a little. The short description would be someone fatter, older and more racist than “tough guy” manosphere blogger Matt Forney. Infact, unlike Matt, my uncle hasn’t been outside of his hometown for more than a week–imagine if Forney was too dumb to turn on a computer, then you might get an inkling of the great guy that is my Uncle. He squealed upon seeing the shirt and said, “You’re not gonna turn out like that Dahmer fellow…”

I laughed and said, “Just wait and see…”

haha, fast forward a couple years…

At this point I’m a regular at death metal shows. And that shirt is my favorite to wear at said shows. So, I’m in the audience when Cannibal Corpse hits the stage. And a rowdy pit breaks loose. And, I’m not the type to think things through, and I jump up on stage. And I jump into the crowd. And the crowd pushes me back onto the stage. And my wallet, keys and butterfly knife spill out of my pockets onto the stage. Remember, now, what I said before about not thinking things through. I glance a security guy catching a glimpse of the knife and I go into a quick panic. And I grab all my stuff and throw it into my pockets. And cover my pockets with my hands. And jump into the crowd head first. And they don’t do a good job of catching me. Boom, skull hits hard concrete. I’m conscious, it could be worse–sorta like what aviators used to say, any landing you walk away from is a good landing. I’m feeling woozy, seeing multiple images. I feel a warm liquid oozing from my nose. Figuring I must have a massive nosebleed I race to the restroom. I’m shocked when I look in a mirror and don’t see any blood. I notice a clear liquid upon closer inspection and it must be some kind of sinus fluid. I quickly wipe away with my beloved Cannibal Corpse tee and move on with life…

Then I was riding my bike. I crashed into a sign post. My eyebrow got the brunt of it. Classic Hockey Player wound. Blood was gushing everywhere. Strangely enough it didn’t hurt. When I got home, my mom flipped and demanded we go to the emergency room. Here I am, caked in blood. As I’m walking in, the lady at the security desk looks at my shirt, “Cannibal Corpse, I heard of those guys.” Took the doctor a whole 30 seconds to stitch up my wound. Ironically, I met the Cannibal Corpse bassist, Alex Webster at a show and told him about this. Looking back it’s kind of funny to be covered in real blood while wearing a death metal shirt. I probably made these guys look like posuers….

And then there was the summer I discovered beer. Yup, the shirt got painted with puke more then a few times. I’d tell ya some stories, but my memory of those summer nights are a bit hazy…

A few years later, my beloved shirt was now in tatters. I had “moved onto bigger and better things” as they say. My sister called me up and asked if she could have the shirt. She was going through her gutter punk phase and I guess that fit the bill for high fashion. I told her I was kinda attached as it was my first death metal shirt. She was like, “I’ll give ya $5 for it.” I told her that it probably wasn’t sanitary. I’d puked on it, bleed in it and probably even pissed all over myself when really drunk. I’ve never really understood my sister’s logic-she then offered me $10 for it. A few months later in one of my rare visit’s to my hometown, I found $10 worth of Kennedy coins, a $2 bill and some Susan B. Anthony’s along with other random change on my desk…

2 thoughts on “….my Butchered at Birth tee-shirt….

  1. Blotted Science is amazing. I met Alex a few years back at a Cannibal show in Dallas. I think it was the Wretched Spawn tour. The funniest thing about most of these guys who write this insanely brutal music is that they’re all run-of-the-mill geeks when you meet them. Sci-fi/horror fans, D&D, you name it. In fact, the only death metal guy I’ve met who wasn’t super polite and cool to talk to was Chris Barnes, after a 6FU show. Maybe he was having an off night, but I’ve talked to a few other people who’ve met him and they’ve all said he was a bit of a prick to them, too.

    George Fisher collects Lord of the Rings swords for fuck’s sake.

    I still have the Eaten Back to Life shirt I bought when I was 13. It’s threadbare and probably wouldn’t survive another trip through the washer.

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