Dear Mr. Pinto,
I regret to inform you that you are not an english teacher. You should stick to drinking your swill in the music office/bar throughout the day before you get all hard on my father.
After repeated warnings, I continued to talk when i felt i needed to. This is part of band rehearsal as far as I know. I was not distracted by conversation with the students next to me. I was either distracted by the twelve and thirteen year old ass that you also focused on or how the clock in the auditorium must be disolving at at a snails pace during your shitty band practices (believe me i know all about shitty band practices). I created my own ceremony amongst the kids that sat next to me. Wasn't my fault that in 1986 kids were drawn to the camo pants and Bad Brains t'shirts. Its a good thing I kept the guns at home and thought trench coats were gay. I would have been a real headliner (no im not talking bout coke you fucking junkie).
Mr. Pinto you have some nerve pawning your job off on my father. Handle your business, thats what I say. Shit I was only 12 years old. Yo I dont change my attitude and iI dont get dropped from bands. I act real and I quit or end the band im in ... capishe? Take a music lesson dick. That shit about the trumpet. You think I wanted to play for you? If you felt it was a contributing factor why didnt you offer some help imasay it now ..........DICK.. good thing this letter did not come to me as the father of Steven Driscoll... I would have had my son beat you down and steal the equipment he had coming to him.
Feel free to contact me or any of my former bands (scapegrace, halfman, lamagna, piecemeal etc) if you wish to discuss the matter. Thing is I mean it. (actually void that shit you prob died of liver damage)
Sincerely,
Steve Driscoll and any true hardcore kid
