Note For Bill & Dave

By Nathan Payne | pablosmoglives | 14 Sep 2023


It is time for one more warning.  One final airhole in the coffin, before it's finally too late.  Hell is at the door.  Eternity awaits.


I love this picture.  I really do.  A bar in Denver, I presume?  Before the prohibitionists made it illegal to smoke in bars, apparently.

I appreciate the kind words you've said about my music over the years, Dave, I really do.  It is for this reason alone that I'm going to shine the spotlight in your face, and put the mirror of your own portrait of Dorian Gray before you, so you can see that hell is real.  I'm not judging you.  I'm warning you.  It would be haughty and redundant for me to judge you.  You've already judged yourself.

I remember the "Ha-Ha-Hanukah Tour" of Colorado in December of '04.  It was a lot of fun, orchestrated mostly by Bill.  He'd booked some shows for me in Denver, maybe other places on the Front Range I don't remember, and a show or 2 on the Western Slope.  I was going to stay at your house for a day or 2 during the Denver stretch.  We were all hanging out, and I don't remember but I don't think I was drinking at the time.  But you exploded out of nowhere, Dave, and the behaviour was so ridiculous and unbearable that I went out to my car, with plans to spend the night on the street instead.  In Denver, in December.

I have similar Jekyll & Hyde tendencies while drinking, and am the last person who is going to look down on you for acting the fool while drunk.  It bears repeating:  I'm not judging you; you're judging yourself.  But I'm not sleeping under the same roof as that demon.  It's more peaceful in the frozen street with the ghost of Bon Scott, facing my imminent demise by freezing to death, than crashing in a house with that abhorrent noise.  

Fortunately, by the grace of God, reason prevailed by way of God through Bill, and before I'd even settled into the driver's seat, you guys were knocking on my window, full of apologies and peace.  I went inside and whatever hellfire had been stoked, had subsided.  We passed out and went on with our lives.


Lately, Dave, I've heard you live in Belize.  Bill said that he went to visit you recently.  While y'all were hanging out in what I presume was an alcoholic daze, he said that you threw a bottle at some Belizean guy in a rage, hitting him in the chest with it.  A bottle, full or empty doesn't matter, in the chest, thrown by a demoniac in yet another tiresome, explosive rage.  No one else is ever going to tell you, not your sugar mama, not the Belizeans who are waiting for their moment to destroy you, no one, so it might as well be me:

That is some hardcore demonic miserableness, right there.  Worthless douchebag behaviour of the highest order.  It's one thing not to ingratiate yourself to the locals; I don't do it here in Mexico.  It's another thing to make all of them hate you in an instant, ensuring that no one will ever have your back when things get weird.

Which apparently, they have.  Throat cancer, I heard.  While this might be your last chance to embrace the grace of finally being ashamed of yourself at last, so that you might be saved, calling out your drunken nonsense isn't the main reason for this article.  It's a reason, but not the main reason.  The main reason for it is to tell you BOTH that I am praying for you, and that there are people praying for you that you don't even know about.  Christian friends of mine I've asked.  And they're doing it.  They're actually praying for you, and don't even know who you are.

I believe the inspiration for writing this letter is an answer to those prayers.

Hell is real, and if you don't repent, both of you are going there.  No one else is ever going to tell you.  Or, if they do and you shut them down, they might actually take your resistance to heart, and not waste their time on you again.  That isn't me.  I don't care if you want to hear it or not, and I don't care what you think about me for telling you.  You need to hear it.  If you reject the message and get to hell at last, it will absolutely not be because I didn't tell you.  You guys are too important to me.


"Nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers,
nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God."
1 Corinthians 6:10


Bill lost a foot due to an accident he had while riding his bike, and still he won't listen.  He is one of the best friends I will ever have, and there is no hostility in it, but he thinks that by telling me to "spare him" the gospel trip, that I'm actually going to do it.  Of course, I'm going to stand back until the time is right, and perhaps not bring it up with every breath, but I'm not going to let you go to hell that easily.  It's too long, too permanent, and TOO CLOSE.  Hell is around the corner.  It's only negative if it isn't true.  But if it's true....

You are certainly free to hate me if you please.  Knowing you guys, that would surprise me, but I don't underestimate the power of the demons.  Especially demons of the bottled variety.  I know them too well to think that anything abhorrent is beyond them.  So, throw your bottles of derision at my chest, scream and yell and amputate another limb for Lone Star, if that's what you want to do, but know this:

I love you guys.  Hell is real.  And you need to repent RIGHT NOW.  Whether it's cancer, toxic drunken overload, or simply falling off your bike, the bill for services rendered is in the mail.  The wages of sin is death.  Payday is nigh.


"For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God
is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."
Romans 6:23


Meet me in Heaven.  I would be surprised to ever see either of you again in this life.  You never know, and things can happen, but I would be surprised.  Bill is one of the best friends I will ever have in this life, and I've been all over the U.S. with him and many of my favorite memories are from seasons in which our paths were crossed.  It makes me sad to consider that our paths will never cross again in this life.

But it's okay.  There are better paths in Heaven anyway.  Throw the bottle out the window, abandon the proxy Satanism (Catholic) trip, and get real about your sins.  Sin is the missing link, that separates us from the animals.  There's a reason we have all these problems, as a species, other species don't have.  It isn't brains.

Get real about it now.  I love you guys.





9 Years Sober:


And, may God forbid:

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Nathan Payne
Nathan Payne

I am a songwriter and bandleader who travels the world in search of the golden ticket.


Replacing my blog at

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