Sebastien Cross
Punk isn't music or clothing. It's the general "******** you all" attitude and way of life that you cannot buy at a ******** specialty store. For example let me use this short story...
You haven't slept for about three days because you think you may be missing something when your eyes close. You and your friends decide to go to a bar and watch a band perhaps do some mosh pitting or slam dancing. Before you have to change. You put on a pair of jeans that may have a few ripps in them (from general use...not put on purpose.) a REAl band t-shirt that has been laying on your floor for no less than a week. And either a black leather or denim jacket with patches you sewed on yourself and didn't buy it in a store. You go to the bar and start to party. You puch some guy in the face because he called you a freak. You decide to mosh pitt a bit. While the band plays something hardcore you swing your arms and legs around trying to hit as many people possible with as much force as possible. You wake up....
your lying in your bed smelling of god knows what with two chicks you never met before in your life beside you...maybe even a guy. you have a hammering headache and have to be at work in an hour. and you look back and say. "what a ******** weekend!"
That my friend is punk.
You haven't slept for about three days because you think you may be missing something when your eyes close. You and your friends decide to go to a bar and watch a band perhaps do some mosh pitting or slam dancing. Before you have to change. You put on a pair of jeans that may have a few ripps in them (from general use...not put on purpose.) a REAl band t-shirt that has been laying on your floor for no less than a week. And either a black leather or denim jacket with patches you sewed on yourself and didn't buy it in a store. You go to the bar and start to party. You puch some guy in the face because he called you a freak. You decide to mosh pitt a bit. While the band plays something hardcore you swing your arms and legs around trying to hit as many people possible with as much force as possible. You wake up....
your lying in your bed smelling of god knows what with two chicks you never met before in your life beside you...maybe even a guy. you have a hammering headache and have to be at work in an hour. and you look back and say. "what a ******** weekend!"
That my friend is punk.
