Sadder than the experience which begat this tacky, 13" inch tall souvenir mug (read my Yelp review if you dare) is the truth that I kept it. And moreover, my firm intentions to spray-paint it flat black and fill it with something Metal like rusty nails or pig’s blood. I’m not even an enthusiast of the genre, (except obviously, AxCx), but I felt inspired. Maybe it was all the chain mail and shitty roasted chicken.
Covered with strategically-placed masking tape, this glass languished in my room collecting dust. On the fateful day I attempted the paint job (a.k.a. The Darkening, or The Day Of Doom), it was a failure. Blowing wind left my arm covered with black droplets (somewhat Metal) but the paint didn’t adhere to the frosted glass. Irritated, I ended up breaking the useless goblet on the patio floor (respectably Metal). I probably could have salvaged The Day of Doom by cutting myself with it’s blackened shards, but that would be a bit too much. I threw on some Danzig instead.