I know you guys are culturally retarded.
I know this.
I know, that you guys don't know what brotherhood feels like, what it's like to walk into your bar and have everyone know your name, glad you came, Cheers.
I know this.
Backstory: Nate used to a run a bar called the Rally Point that was INFAMOUS for being hardcore as fuck for no goddamn reason. Shootings, beatings, drunken dumpster fucking, moshpits, the whole nine yards.
Anyways, so Nate's cousin dies in Iraq. Yeah, serious bullshit. So the new bar is House of Thor that all the old Rally Point nutjobs hang out at, an we have a benefit show.
Endless Nameless, Firm Foundation, Three Man Riot.
/\ that right there is the monkey flippin' LINEUP. Improv grindcore, Rasta Skinhead music (yes, it exists. Omar is a crunk ass motherfucker and black as goddamn coal), and old school "I don't give a shit" high energy punk.
So there were these tits, right? Big ones. And they were on some serious display. And the tits were all "Sup FUNK, long time since a show like this, right? Here, let me rub myself all over you during this Rasta Skinhead shit. "
And I was all "BEEEEWWWBBIES......"
And then Beth was all "BUT WHAT ABOU /\/\Y BEWBIES?!?!?!"
And I was all "Here, let me rub these in my face, just to make you feel special"
And then this other chick was all "But... But...I have bewbies too!"
And I was all "Mmm, yes, I see your point."
And then it was 4AM and I had to load my drums back up.
good times. still kinda drunk.