It sounds hilarious until it happens to you. I squatted for a hard-ass crew pic with my boys and now I can’t get up.
I don’t know how it came to this and I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but can somebody please send me some help? I don’t know if I’ve been here days, months…a year? I need to get home and register to vote for Bernie in the primary!
This really is just one of those one-in-a-million things that you never worry about, I’m just so lost. WHY DID MY FRIENDS LEAVE ME?
Last I remember we had just finished a benefit show for Justin’s mom’s dog (shout-out Mrs. Wesper!) We were cleaning up, loading gear, respecting the space, and it was time for a crew pic. The pic was so sweet. Scott and Johnny hard-styled in the front because they’re kinda short but have solid biceps. The back row had a perfect pattern of guy, guy, guy, guy, guy, girl, guy, guy, guy, guy, guy, guy, girl, guy, guy, guy, guy, guy, etc. (I’d like to see someone call OUR local scene sexist, we all know a healthy scene needs both).
PLEASE IS ANYONE OUT THERE!? I CAN’T GET UP!
Of course I squatted at the bottom right hand corner of the shot (the Danny Signature I call it) My squat was perfect; I’d spent years hardstyling at local shows and practicing my squat game watching Russian YouTube videos. I swear my balls would’ve tapped the floor if I wasn’t wearing pants.
We took the picture and everything was great and I was so proud of my squat that I figured I’d stay down low, keeping it real while everyone sent the photo around.
That’s where it all went wrong.
Once I got the photo I waged an all-out assault on social media; I cropped it perfectly so it would look dope on Instagram, translate well when pushed to Facebook, and then eventually transition into my cover photo. My caption read, “shoutout to the homies for making the last ever benefit show here at 908 Lincoln a roaring success #hardcorepride #blessed.” Damn, I’m tearing up remembering that caption, though it might be the pain of my internal organs digesting themselves.
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I kept refreshing the post on all forms of social media. I needed to make sure my friends at the show liked it (SUPPORT THE SCENE), my hardcore friends online liked it, and I needed to show off to my family how cool I am even if they don’t get it. I must’ve spaced out for a few hours because by the time my phone died (at almost 11 likes!) I looked up and everyone was gone.
Please if you’re reading this, if anyone at all is out there please send help, food, a charger, anything.
I know my squat is fucking fresh so whenever helps arrives I won’t be embarrassed, so please send help. Oh wait, I think I hear someone.
HELP! HELP! ANYONE OUT THERE!? I swear I hear someone, the only words I can make out over some loud machinery are “wrecking ball,” “explosion,” “demolish.”
It’s probably my crew coming to pick me up, I guess they’re still thinking of band names, maybe it hasn’t been that long!
Yo, if anybody can get down to 908 Lincoln and help our boy Danny out, let us know in the comments below!
Photo by Dan Rawe.