The other night began with a text from my roommate: “Hey – want to go see this band in BK after work? Kinda weird music but something to do.”
Generally I prefer to stay home and watch the telly, but everyone’s always like “you’ll never get a husband if you never leave the house” (I know that’s what online dating is for but I’m far too lazy to maintain all that flirty e-mail correspondence), plus I knew there’d be booze involved and maybe a little bit of adventure so I got up off mah couch and went for it.
It was…interesting. The venue was a bar called MonkeyTown. This fact only became interesting later when, after one of the bands’ sets, my friend yelled “YEAHHHHHH MONKEY TOWN.” She, however, was less embarrassing than the friend who was whistling. Whistling? Really? Cool it, guys.
The actual band was called…well, I don’t know what they were called, and if I did, I wouldn’t write their name as I’d hate for them to get a Google alert with what I’m about to say. They were, hands down, the worst, and I mean literally the worst band in the entire world. (Even worse than the band I was in during the thrid grade. We were called DreamGirls, which is funny because I look just like Beyonce. But more on that later.)
Anyway. This band. So the instruments, or whatever, were like, amps I guess – just these machines sitting on the floor and these two dudes who were like, the encyclopedia definition of hipster, sat there on the floor and plugged cords into the machines and pushed buttons and all the while there were huge projector screens on all 4 walls of the venue that were flashing all these images that made no sense and the noises they made…the NOISES. It was like whales raping seals getting run over by trucks zoo orgy is that a fire siren what is happening giraffes moaning bleeping seals screech did someone put LSD in my coffee bleep bleep boop screech jesus christ make it stop help seals bleep. seals.
It was awesome.