Let Me Know How That Works Out For You

I had one of those outings last night where it seemed that everyone in the bar was ten times more inebriated then myself. It was as if they were drinking from some secret well of booze that I hadn’t been given the pass codes for. Which was fine by me because whatever these folks were drinking was of some alien proof that I wanted no part of. It was turning the room ugly and hostile. A Wednesday night, where you know that you’ve got two more working days ahead of you, calls for a little restraint people. For my part, I was into the musical group performing, but the deficiencies of humans who could not control their liquor and did everything in their power to turn the focus from the band to their petty posturing were harshing on my mellow. I know I sound hypocritical in passing judgment. I’m certain my immediate history would point that out in spades or hearts or diamonds, but I feel that my alcoholic state should be matched by everyone in the room at all times. And if you choose to become more intoxicated than me, then I shall be forced to fuck with you in devious ways. For this is the way of the kingdom.

My companion and I were pestered all night by a weathered and vulgar man who could not stand. His head bobbed up and down like a broken yo-yo. He borrowed cigarettes and proceeded to stick them in his nose. His air drumming went too far and beat upon our heads at times. I felt only rage for him and wanted to smash his face with both my fists. Luckily said companion, has a kinder heart and spent a good deal of patient time maneuvering this gentleman away from my double hammers. A women with hair dyed the color of a tasteless italian table wine, attempted to coax men out of their seats to partake in her potted promenade but nobody was having anything to do with her. She was left alone to sock hop in solitaire. I was ashing my cigarette in a long forgotten gin and tonic retired at my table. This women she puts her drink down on our table while yelling at somebody at an adjacent table. Then she reaches back and picks up the glass I had been using as an ash tray and slams the evil concoction in one gulp. It didn’t seem to phase her in the least and I didn’t protest even though now I had to find a new ash tray.

Also, some musician videos. Check out this guys drum solo. And Mcrorie the human band. Or try Ian MacKaye’s new outfit ‘The Evens’ doing a super catchy children’s song for Pancake Mountain, a children’s television program created by some DC punkers.