ISSUE ZERO MAGAZINE: THE ANCHIENT CRAFT AND SECRET SOCIETY OF GATE CRASHERS.

I think by now, our mildly concerned public, are ready for this one, if they were not already planning a contingency for it.
I'll probably get my ass beat the hell up for this. Some power tripping metal head, not unlike myself, but with the righteousness that is being on the actual payroll for security, is gonna haul my ass out of the venue, while I kick and scream for free shwag and a all access pass back into the show, out into the street where I'll probably have to run like the wind running on wind.

There is nothing you can't do if you put your mind to it. What I have left for a mind, is just enough, apparently, because I seemed to be able to dodge and weave through security and management without this sweet little jacket before. I won't tell you where I "found" this hot ticket, but I will tell you this: it is only a matter of time before I put this thing to work.

As for the un-named members of this elite society of gate-crashers, most security knows who you are, chances are, once you crash, you don't come back.
I've done it many, many, many times, and it never gets lame. It's so damn cool, I don't even know where to start.

I think it might have started way back when I was a kid and my old man would have to hustle my ass into a gig of his cuz getting a baby sitter was a bitch. Growing up in several venues and rock shows at a real early age was exciting. As soon as I was old enough to understand the respect you gotta have for a expensive piece of equipment that turns an average guitar into a window-breaking, noise-violation-maker, and big enough to carry a forty watt, I was carrying those shits everywhere.

Then there was that one weekend I spent playing Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell for XBOX for 70 hours straight, drinking and getting high the whole way through. That, may have been the real turning point. After that weekend, I remember taking trips through the crawl space between the fine dinning restaurant and the pub I worked for, hiding in the shadows and putting staff members in hammer locks when they would go to the walk-in fridge or to my favourite, the liquor storage, forcing them to open it and remain quite. It was fun except the time I did it to Carl Sawyer, who not only got free, but made it hurt pretty good, too. The lesson here is to pick your battles, not to stop hiding in the shadows waiting to commit acts of espionage and thievery.
So there you have it. Add that shit up and you got yourself a fence-jumping, building-scaling, disguise-wearing, metal-head from gate-crashing Hell.

and I am just getting warmed up. The next step is a counterfeit pass kit, which will allow me to pick from several different types of pass covers and colored tethers.

You see, my dear reader,
if what you GOTTA do,
outweighs what gets done TO ya,
whatchya fuckin waiting on?
I'm fuckin hungery already.

ISSUE ZERO MAGAZINE IS ALL THE FUCK ABOUT GATE CRASHING.