VH

 Eddie died today.

I actually am sad about now that I think about it. Huge part of my terror lad days. Metal was the fuel and then punk. Holy shit... That's a fucking cocktail for disaster there. My criminal past.. I was a fucking knob, a bell end right cunt. 

Eddie Van Halen.. going to Dennis's house, who's mom was the dental assistant to Dr Bonner when I lived in HB. Hang out in 

 

 back yard, riding bmx bikes on his dirt track, clandestinely smoking in the cardboard subterranean fort we made as well. I barely remember those days.. they really are fading memories. I think that's what makes it sad for me. 

The death of my life is slowly unraveling with each passing cultural icon relevant to my childhood. 

 

Spending time in that cemetery is seriously depressing. You see tragedy and sorrow amongst the dead, history is what piques my curiosity. More so the question of what is the story of those who are buried here?

 

 The sad story of the Brandt family...