METALLICA DISCOGRAPHY CONTEST — THE WINNER ANNOUNCED!
To celebrate Metallica’s induction into the Rock N’ Roll Hall of Fame a few weeks back, Fuse generously donated Metallica’s entire discography to one lucky MetalSucks reader. We asked you to tell us your favorite Metallica song and why it’s your favorite; we meticulously sorted through the entries (yup, we really read all of ’em), and we’re happy to announce that Bryan Wall is the lucky man. Read Bryan’s hilarious “ball busting” entry in its entirety, below; it seriously had my laughing out loud all 3 times I read it!
My favorite song is Damage, Inc because it saved me from getting Tabasco Sauce on my balls. True Story.
When I was 18 and a freshman in college I pledged a fraternity (ridiculous things seemed important at 18, but I did it and it was fun and I really have no excuses), and it’s no secret that hazing takes place in fraternities. The one I was in was pretty notorious for vicious hazing, and vomiting and constant physical pain were how I spent my first 10 weeks of school. Great times. This being 1999, there were a few guys that were 2 or 3 years older than me that had grown up in the heyday of Thrash and were still very legitimate metalheads. They found out that I played guitar in metal bands before college, and that I also knew how to play almost every song on the first three Metallica albums. This alone saved me more misery than any ass-kissing could have ever done. One guy in particular, Jim, was an obsessed Metallica fan and would force me (I was a pledge, after all) to sit in his room and play the Master of Puppets album on his shitty electric guitar while he and his drunk friends screamed along. This usually lasted for hours, but it was fun so I really didn’t care.
One night I was asked to come down to the fraternity house for what was sure to be a miserable night of torture. I’d heard that a lot of the older guys were bored and drunk and those two things usually meant that we (the pledges) would end up being hurt or tortured in some humiliating way. As I came in the door, Jim grabbed me by the arm and said “Go hide in my room.” I figured he was going to fuck with me, but I thought “whatever, I’m used to it” so I went upstairs. 20 minutes later he came in with some beers and told me “Your pledge brothers are going to be putting Tabasco sauce on their balls in about 20 minutes, so just hang out in here and if anyone asks for you I’ll tell them I’m making you do my homework and that you can’t do that shit.” Seemed like a logical plan to me.
I started ripping through Battery and Leper Messiah, and just as I’d started Damage, Inc. I heard the most gruesome, blood-curdling screams coming from downstairs. It honestly sounded like people were dying. This was obviously hot sauce on the balls time. Jim and I ignored it and kept rocking out in our very drunken state. I left his room 10 minutes later to see some of my best friends with tears in their eyes swearing they would kill someone if ever asked to do that again. One of my friends had his dick in the sink, running cold water over it. Not an easy task. Another was scooping toilet water out of the toilet with a soup ladel and dunking his now swollen balls into it. Repeatedly. Desperate times.
10 years later, whenever I hear Damage, Inc. I remember that night. Damage, Inc. indeed.
Congrats, Bryan! Enjoy that copy of St. Anger as you celebrate the continued health of your nutsack.
-VN
