TW: RAPE CULTURE
This is Gary Cherny, the vocalist for Before We’re Done. Which is arguably the most well respected band currently in Mile High (Denver) Hardcore. Gary is known for being a stand up guy that easily floats between all cliques, groups and social circles in our local hardcore community. He is often viewed as “everyone’s friend”. With a giant hug, a firm handshake or welcoming smile this man has won over the hearts of many folks that come around to shows, effectively fooling each and every one of them.
The four above photos are screen shots of messages which Gary sent me via the anonymous option on Tumblr. With the use of my IP tracker and a few unsuspecting questions to Gary, we were able to prove that it was him beyond a reasonable doubt.
To backtrack… I was raped inside of my home three months ago by someone that had been stalking me at shows. This person would call me from blocked numbers, reference what I had been wearing at the show the night before, threaten to rape me and then hang up. We all thought it was simple harassment, but the person turned out to be good on their threat. Unfortunately, to this day we have no been able to identify this person, as I did not see his face at all during my attack.
Now, I am not suggesting that Gary was my perpetrator, let’s be clear on that. What I am saying is that, at the very least, his choice of words was especially poor. No woman should ever be told to “get raped” in the first place, period. The wounds, however, are still fresh and it has sent me into an incredibly dark place.
Gary and I have been close acquaintances for a while (which is why I am more than confused by his actions) and he knew that growing up my biological father was my best friend. He knew that he had raised me all on his own as a single parent my whole life and when he died when I was 14 that my world shattered. He also knew that my foster father sexually abused and perpetrated me repeatedly in my teen years. Hence my reaction to his last anonymous message when he said, “go get raped by some father figure in your life… Oh wait… You don’t have one.”
When confronted, he profusely denied it and said, “I can’t even understand how you would think that was me, EmilyAnne,” as he hid behind his friendly reputation. Upon making it known that there was absolutely no way he could debate his innocence, he asked if we could meet in person and talk. I agreed on the condition that I could bring Marco to witness what he had to say. We all met up later that night and he continued to give me gigantic puppy eyes, practically turning on the water works and confessed while also trying to give a sad story about why he did what he did. I cut him off, asked Marco if he had heard Gary’s confession and we both walked away.
If you read the screen shots, it’s very more than clear that there is direct aggression, threats and the obvious suggestion of rape. This is something that I will not tolerate in my community. Many of you will be shocked to read this (if it gets out) and will probably wish to deny it initially. But, Gary has called multiple people seeking help and has openly admitted to all of them what he did. Ask him yourself, he will not deny it. Now, the threats and words that he used are ones that are very direct. Whatever his excuse, I have no desire to hear it. This is rape culture at it’s finest when we listen to and take pity on a man that undeniably targeted a woman agressively telling her “you’re gonna get what’s coming to you”, “all in due time, bitch” and “go get raped”.
When I first received the anons before we figured out it was Gary, I called the police, suspecting it had some attachments to my rape. They suggested that I file a restraining order. I would much rather see this go around to every person in our scene and possibly branch out further resulting in immeasurable social discomfort for him. So, please, don’t just ‘like’ this post. Reblog it if you can. I know it is long, I know it is not funny, nor is it cute. But, it is important. Even if this gets two reblogs, I’ll be happy that at least the awareness branched out that far. His band tours around as well as plays local shows, all the while having Gary as their frontman talking about solidarity and love. About how hardcore is a place for kids who don’t belong to come and find a home. When clearly Gary is a misogynist, rape culture perpetuating, hypocrite.
They will be playing this Tuesday at The Marquis. Please, support the touring bands, but omit your presence from the opening act Before We’re Done as well as all other shows they play if they continue to keep Gary as their vocalist.
I’m so proud of you emilyanne for staying strong through this whole thing and letting others know who he really is. I think people not only in the denver hardcore community, but people in the community nation wide should also be aware of what he’s done, doesn’t mean you have to ‘pick a side’, but just be aware. People like this are cowards and are potentially dangerous. I’m not in the hardcore scene, but I go to shows with my boyfriend all the time. I’ve been around Gary many times and I always felt like there was something off. Rape culture does exist, and this just shows that it can even exist in people that are looked up to and respected. More than anything, I hope that my friend is okay and that she won’t have to deal with anymore backlash from Gary’s words. He should take full responsibility for his actions.
I have no idea who this douchebag is, but signal boostin’ anyway.
What. the. fuck.
And people think women are hysterical for not trusting strange men when malicious fucks like this exist and pretend to be our *good friends*???
Never heard of this asshole but what a piece of shit. Happy to get this out there.
I don’t know who this guy is, but here’s a signal boost because this is really fucked up
no idea who this piece of shit band is but i suggest everyone boycott their music, which i’m going to go ahead & assume is bad
Signal boost. Fuck this asshole and fuck his “I am so sorry please forgive me” bullshit. Naw. Naw. You do not get a pass on shit like that. You are foul. GTFO.
While browsing through the family photo album, Lisa notices that there are no baby pictures of Maggie. Homer explains by recounting the story of Maggie’s birth. In 1993, Homer hated working at the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant, and had a dream of working at a bowling alley. After he received a paycheck that cleared him of all his debts, he quit his job at the power plant, and went to get a job at the local bowling alley.
When Homer and Marge “snuggled” to celebrate this development, she became pregnant. Marge knew that the news would end Homer’s new lifestyle and affect his happiness, because it meant he could no longer support his family on his bowling alley salary. Marge kept her pregnancy a secret as long as she could, but Patty and Selma, eager to ruin Homer’s life, spread the news quickly around town.
Homer was not happy when he found out about Marge’s pregnancy, and was completely unenthusiastic about the impending birth. Because of the financial problems caused by the pregnancy, Homer was forced to make a sacrifice and go back to the power plant. However, Mr. Burns made Homer beg for his job back, and placed a large plaque in front of Homer’s desk reading: “Don’t forget: you’re here forever”. Homer was once again unhappy at his work, but as with all the Simpson children, when Maggie was born, Homer instantly fell in love with her. Back in the present, Bart and Lisa still do not understand what that has to do with Maggie’s photos. Homer merely mentions that they are in the place where he needs them the most. The scene then cuts to his workplace where all of the photos of Maggie are positioned on the plaque on the wall, which now reads: “Do it for her”.
everyone take a moment and look at how jeremy renner is standing.
I wake up at 9:30AM and make my way to the toilet to take the longest piss of my life. I swing the door open and there Danny is (in all his glory) taking a massive dump. I quickly wrap my arm around my face in an attempt to mask the odor that was killing all life around it. I looked like someone had just thrown a tear gas grenade in the house and I was crawling to safety. Choking…dying. In a very nonchalant tone, Danny says “Oh, hey dude! You ready to head out”? and muzzled by my arm, I utter “You sick mother fucker. Lock the door”. Enter Kyle Sawyer (One of Danny’s room mates and stellar dude). Kyle and Danny had left for PetCO hours before I woke up to buy “Jar Jar”. Jar Jar is the red-tailed boa constrictor that Kyle has had a boner for and today was the day he was going on sale. So after walking in on Danny’s struggle with peace, I let Jar Jar wrap herself around my wrist for a bit while Kyle fixed his home. Danny was in a hurry, so he was hoping Kyle would finish the hell up so we could head out. Finally we are on our way and we decide we wanna grab some Panda before we head out. Much to Danny’s chagrin, we made a detour to a local Panda (which Danny still says was out of the way). In the parking lot we spy with our little eyes, twin gingers. Full beards too! I made a comment about them looking like Obi-Wan and Kyle (without so much as a fuck to be given) yells, “THEY HAVE GINGER BEARDS, DUDE” while violently shaking Danny back and forth from the shoulders. We all laugh and then Kyle turns to them and says “POWER TO THE BEARD”! Those ginger twins were not the slightest bit amused. We eat, and we finally make way to Seattle! about half way there, We decided to stop at a gas station for some much needed pee action and chips. The sign on the door clearly states that the restrooms are around the back and that a key is not needed. I hate public restrooms. I try to avoid them at all costs (even to piss) and this one was not helping. First off, there was no lock. Anyone could barge in and take a peek at my wiener and that would be lame. Second, it smelled like someone died in there. Third, There was no soap. Since the door had no lock, I had to think of how I was going to make this piss happen. “Should, I put the trash can in front of the door”, I said to myself out loud? “Naw… the sheer force of the door swing would send it flying in my direction, exposing my wiener and launching shitty TP in my direction”. I finally got it! I stood against the door, whipped my dick out and aimed the stream. Sure, I made a mess, but at least 90% of the piss made it in the toilet and it’s not like anyone was concerned on the hygienic well being of this particular restroom. So i wash my hands and head back out. Chris and Kyle are passed out in the backseat with their jackets over their heads and I was bored waiting for Danny to finish whatever he was doing. I looked around the car for some sort of entertainment to pass the time and I notice the water cup that I had at Panda. There was still some water left in it and my inner child was screaming ideas at me. It was decided… I whipped out my iphone press the record button and proceeded to give a POV angle shot of me pouring water on Chris’s crotch. I didn’t think this through. The water was cold, so I knew he was gonna wake up seconds after pouring. That’s exactly what happened. He was like, “WTF!!! IT’S IN MY BUTTCRACK”, I ripped up in laughter and out of the corner of my side mirror, I see Danny making a “Let’s get the fuck out of here” face and picking up speed. He quickly sits down and says “Dude, we gotta get the fuck out of here before that Asian guy comes out”! “What the hell happened”, I replied in excitement. “I was taking a poo”.. I cut him off to say “UGGGGHHH, IN THAT TOILET” and he says “I was taking a poo and this Asian guy walks in on me. I said, sorry man, I’m in here, then he apologizes and closes the door. I was kinda irritated, so I finished taking a huge dump then I threw the toilet paper in the toilet and flushed. I didn’t even check to see if it went down” the only response I had, was to scream in laughter.
We finally make it to Bellevue, Washington where we let out a sigh of relief when the guy at the counter let us check in early. The reason being, was that we all needed to take a poo and some of us more than others. In the elevator we fought to see who was gonna get the toilet first. After about a minute or two of bickering, we settled it like grown up men. We played “rock/paper/scissors”. It was a tournament, first it was me VS Danny then Kyle VS Chris. I beat Danny for entry to the finals and found that my opponent was now Kyle. Rock/Rock=Tie, paper/paper=tie (The excitement can be seen in both our faces and adrenaline is pumping), Rock>Paper= Kyle gets 1 point. Sweat is dripping down my forehead in anticipation (and cause I needed to poo) then Scissors>Paper= I tie the game! Kyle lets out a “You’re not gonna fucking win” shriek. We now both hold an equal chance of winning and the adrenaline pumping through our bodies could probably kill us at this point. Tensions are definitely raised when in 3 last fist pumps….. Rock beats Scissors. I won! “FUCKING FOOB”, Kyle yells (He calls me Foob) and we make it to the room where, I hog the bathroom and take a nice shower. We all decide to shower for the night ahead of us and head out to see what Bellevue has to offer.
So we make it to Wendy’s (SMH) and the guys indulge in some frostys which they obviously can’t get anywhere else because they are only fucking served in Washington. It was only about 3:45 when we decided to head into Seattle and check out the Pike Place Market. Upon arrival it smelled fishy. Of course it smelled fishy, there was fish everywhere! This market place was awesome though. It ranged from fresh produce, crafts, street performers, and restaurants all of which had down to earth people and great offerings. We made it there at like 4:45 and they were pretty much closing the entire strip. That sucked because I wanted to eat some Seattle fish, dammit! So we walk away with slight disappointment and decided to hit the streets and find ourselves some good eats. The main objective besides taking in the sights, was to have some fish. We probably walked like 2 miles before we entered what looked like the smack-dab center of town where a flash mob was going down. We approached it and Danny says “I could make so many rude comments right now” then we continued to watch. Half way through the performance the crowd splits and a couple walks out onto the floor. The man gets on one knee and proposes to his girlfriend. The audience goes wild and I looked at Danny and saw that he had obviously had a change of heart. “You feel like an asshole now, don’t you”, I said. The crowd held their breath waiting for what the potential bride was going to reply. She said “no”, but wasn’t the idea of the flash mob awesome!? Just kidding, she said “yes”, and everyone rejoiced . It was pretty awesome! After that, we spot a street performer in a golden robot outfit, doing robot things and stuff. Kyle grew an immediate boner for this guy and wanted to see him in action.The bot stood there like an asshole not doing a damn thing,so Danny throws a handful of change in his tin can made for tips and, yippie-kai-yay, what do you know, the guy starts making an assortment of robot sounds and does “The Robot” off of his little stool and waves Danny down. Danny does one of those “Who, me” looks and reluctantly heads over. The bot then poses for a pic and people start snapping away and taking video (Because they want to get a pic and footage of the bot, but not spend any money). Kyle, who previously had a full erection for the golden-clad robot was just about ready to cum, when he discovered that he could tip the guy for a little dance and a pic. So Kyle and Chris saunter over and each deposit a 1 dollar bill. This gets the bot all hot an bothered cause he starts making high pitched robot sounds with what can only be described as a kazoo under his helmet and hands Kyle a full size golden gattling gun. You should of seen the look on Kyle’s face when this was going down… I’m surprised that he didn’t pull the golden guy’s pants down and start blowing him right then and there! He then hands Chris a miniature pistol and does a really stupid “Ha ha ha” laugh with his kazoo.
“Let’s go ham” was the theme of the 4 day trip in beautiful Portland, Oregon. I’m not sure if my friend Chris coined this phrase, but it actually means “Let’s get hammered”. In that fashion, we stuck to it. I arrived in Portland at exactly 12:15PM. My friend Danny (the main reason I was visiting) was not answering his phone to hear the numerous messages containing key phrases like “Hey you fuckin’ fuck! I’m here” and “Heeeeeeeey queeeeer, guess whose in Portland”! Turns out he fell asleep… It didn’t worry me though cause knew it was going to happen. It actually would’ve been weird if he showed up on time. So about 35 minutes into me waiting for him to respond, I sat in the lobby area and started reading a book. I couldn’t concentrate because there was a black dude sitting across from me eating a double pack of Red Baron frozen pizza bread. What was disturbing, was that he ate like what I could only imagine was his last meal! He was breathing really heavily, and scraping the crisper box of the cheese left behind with his teeth. It was quite a spectacle to behold and quite frankly kinda funny. I found it so funny in fact that every time I chuckled, he stopped to look in my direction like a frightened squirrel, then as I averted my eyes, he would continue ravaging his pizza box. Twenty minutes go by and I’m sitting outside waiting for Danny to pick me up. I light up one of my favorite Marlboro 27’s and drift into Sublime’s “Summertime”. As I’m pretending to jam out Danny shows up in a beat up purple Dodge Neon and before I climbed in I thought to myself, “It’s prolly gonna smell like balls in there”. Guess what? It smelled like balls. After expressing my adoration for the beautiful fucking Portland Terminal and flat out informing Danny of his malodorous vehicle, he says “You haven’t seen nothing yet”. So we drive straight into downtown and the sweet sweet aroma of the different grub carts fills my nostrils. I was in heaven. Right then I knew that I was gonna be eating the majority of the trip. He takes me to a little Philly Cheese steak cart and we chow down on some superb eats and take in the view. Pioneer Square is like the hive of hipsters. They all congregate in this particular section to be all hipstery and shit. At one point Danny says “You won’t be able to tell if people are bums or hipsters” and this was truth that he spoke. In addition, not one single hipster was helpful, cool, or even nice. They are all assholes. Parking sucks major donkey D in Portland (mainly cause it either doesn’t exist or is expensive) we walked everywhere! Did i mention I loved walking? Cause I really do. I’m not being sarcastic. I will walk till my feet bleed! Note this. If you decide to hang with me sometime and experience Fabian, prepare to walk. So we walked to from one end of the street to another and so on, getting a tour of the city. Then it happens… Voodoo Doughnuts. My friend Paisley recommended that I try this place (because they are fucking delish), and so we did. There we were and I couldn’t decide what to get because they have literally, hundreds of different options. You want a dick shaped doughnut with custard filled testicles? How about a pair of tits filled with creme? You dream it up, they will most likely have it! I couldn’t decide and Danny had already made his choice (I could’ve been there forever), so seeing as how an army of doughnuts enthusiast was quickly forming behind me shooting me evil stares, I prematurely chose the Cap’n Crunch Doughnut and Danny went with Maple bacon. Although my doughnut was delicious, Danny’s had fucking bacon. He wins. Don’t ask me where in particular we went cause I didn’t pay attention to a single street name or area. All I knew was that we had to pick up Chris in 3 hours from the airport so we decided to head to Danny’s place, get ready and chill till Chris’s plane arrived. Upon arriving at Danny’s place, I notice that his house number id “6784”, but I read it as that song “867-5309”, which sparked as reoccurring trolling phrase thought the trip.
It’s 10:50PM and Chris should be arriving any minute so we make our way to the airport. At the airport, Danny decides he wants to get a “snack” so he makes his way to the “about-to-close” Panda Express and relieves them of all their pot stickers. “You couldn’t wait? We’re seriously about to fricken eat”, I snapped, as I felt I was being robbed of the Portland experience. “Dude…It’s just a snack”, he replied in an indignant manner. “Cheese and crackers are a snack, not 100 pot stickers”! So Chris arrives, we hug and I let out a sigh of relief because we are about to “Go ham”. It is now raining balls out and my life was almost taken by an asshole speeding his way down the street, completely ignoring the cross walk signs. Dick! After regaining my composure, we make it to a little bar called “Ground Kontrol”. This place was fucking poppin’! It had arcade cabinets up the whazoo (Each with a built in drink holder) and a full bar with respectable bartenders. The drink of the day was called “Diablo” and since I’ve had a chub for this game for quite a while now, I ordered it. Then another. Then another. It was Tequila, lime, cherry something or other and awesome all thrown into a glass that I sipped through that straw with the vigor of the Nesquick bunny. I was feeling it. Danny was gonna get Leonardo’s pizza from the bar but bitched out cause It had blue cheese. He hates blue cheese. I could kill him. So all three of us are kinda feeling it and we stop at a local gay bar called Hobo’s. Chris had some thing for calling people “beautiful” and “Baby girl” (he was adamant that chicks dig that sort of thing….and they do), so we sit at the bar and our bartender, Chad serves us up a drink called “Flaming DP”. A flaming DP is a shot of rum set on fire then dropped into a glass half filled with beer and promptly downed. The combined flavors make it a hint of Dr. Pepper. So yeah, you don’t necessarily feel like you’re getting DP’d. Danny was disappointed. It is now about 1pm and we want to go home, but not before we eat! On our way to the car, we stumbled upon a Mexican cart open 24 hours for drunk ass people like us and we order a nice helping of “Tacos de Lengua” which translates to… a whale’s Vagina. Just kidding, it translates to “Tongue Tacos”. Cow tongue to be exact. Drizzle on some green tomatillo salsa and they are the motha fuckin’ bizz! We drive back home and promptly crash in preparation for Seattle the next day.
Yeah, I’m being pushed home…. In a cart (Taken with instagram)