this blog by curtis ward, guitarist for the deathcore band bring me the horizon.

let me know if you like this band, thanks.

So, I got asked to write this blog and i haven't got a clue what to
write about -- like no idea while I'm writing this sentence. I haven't
been given any direction, just left to my own devices.

Scary.

Ermm.

Its snowing outside.

I'm in Milwaukee.

What can I write about.

I tried writing about what I'd do if I was rich, but couldn't think of much I'd do.

Then I thought I'd write about how I don't mind people downloading
our songs. But then i realized if people didn't and bought our CDs,
then I probably wouldn't live at home with my mom. I'd live in an
apartment with six other dudes and be real poor. But at least I
wouldn't live with my mom, which is nice, don't get me wrong.

I know! I'm gonna write about how I like living at home with my mom.

So, normally I come home from tour in the middle of the night. I
leave my suitcase in the hall open and go upstairs to bed. I go into my
bedroom. My bed will be made all crisp and ready for me to collapse in.
All my floor will be cleaned -- my whole room in fact.

In the morning I'll wake up and go downstairs. My mom will have gone
to work, but all my clothes will be washed or in the washing machine
getting clean.

I'll look in the cupboard of the fridge. All my favorite food will
be there waiting, and that's because a few days before I come home
she'll ring me and ask what i want. How good's that?

Then, I'll go to my car, Peugeot 206, BTW. We don't make as much money as you think. Damn illegal downloads.

Yeah, so I get in my car and all the Big Mac/sweets/cans of
pop/crisps/mud is all gone. The carpet's cleaned and all in all
smelling fresh. Everything that was wrong with my car is fixed, just
good to go.

Then I'll come home later.

I'll get asked what I fancy to eat. Then, boom, it's made, brought to me while I'm watching TV.

Then, every Sunday we'll have Sunday dinner, which to people who don't
know is pretty much a Thanksgiving dinner every sunday. Tastes so good.
Yorkshire pudding, stuffing, roast parsnips. Everything so f-king good.

But now that I'm 21 I think it's time for me to leave. I'm far too old to have someone say, "Turn your music down."

I know it's stupid because I'm never actually at home, but having my
own place would be sick. Come round for a cup of tea when I get one.

So, in the meantime, I love my mom and everything she does.

Sweet blog or what?