My Death Cab For Cutie cover band has been playing shows for the past few days. It,s bizarre. We never do that. We usually play one show ever nine weeks. We have played four shows and we have two more and I feel like I should not play music because I am weak and tired and gross and my voice doesn,t work anymore. I guess that,s the price you pay for being dumb and having childish hobbies. I should give up music and get really into firecrackers. I wonder if there are handmade, boutique firecrackers - artisanal firecrackers.
The show we played last night was at a disgusting frozen box. It was a punk diarrhea chamber that was being used illegally. I don,t think anybody owned it. It was full of pooping dogs and dreadlocked morons. Somebody stepped in a very large, slimy piece of human poop outside. The inside of the building smelled like a mix of molding rugs and malnourished farts and dead animals and thousands of bugs. It wasn,t good.
Matmos - The Marriage Of True Minds
The floor was made out of a mix of particle board and quarter inch think plywood which seemed to be built over a very deep pit. There were several holes which lead down into the abyss and many spots were worryingly bouncy when you stepped on them. There was a lot of give if you put your weight on certain boards. I wonder how many corpses are under that building.
Everybody there seemed confused and dirty and thirsty. There were a lot of leather jackets and flea-covered fabrics. I don,t want to say that it was my least favorite place I have ever played, but it was undeniably gross. I was terrified of things crawling up my pant legs all night. In retrospect, I should have tucked my pants into my socks to make a sort of barrier. I am going to do that all the time from now on. I don,t want bugs crawling into my body via my genital opening.
1 comment:
sweet
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