Saturday, September 10, 2011

I went to a hardcore concert in Brooklyn this one time. I think it was X. So I'm standing there with my drink waiting for the show and I'm surrounded by all these guys in suits. I mean like seriously, the just rolled in from Wall Street. The band gets up on 'stage' (lets face it, it wasn't a stage it was an area of the club slightly higher than the rest with a wall of speakers cutting it off from the rest. I'm small and can't take moshing so I find my friends and we set up a defensive perimeter in a banquet table. I look out at the crowd wondering how the suits are holding up in the pit and lo and behold there isn't a suit out there, just a bunch of punks beating the shit out of each other. Occasionally a guy gets ejected from the pit and rams against our boot heels..we give him a helpful shove back in. That's when I notice that the suits ARE the punks. They were they old incognito punks who had 'grown up' and gone on with their lives..but during the full moon they shed their corporate bindings to come out listen to hardcore, thrash and beat the shit out of each other. It was a great time.


Blogger said...

lunettes de soleil hommes tres agreable tout comme decrit merci.<BR

10:06 PM  
Blogger Dr. kold_kadavr_flatliner, MD, the sub/dude said...

God blessa youse -Fr. Sarducci, ol SNL

3:46 PM  

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