July 2, 2008

It’s too cold to go out at the moment. Through sheer laziness over the past week I’ve managed to miss Donnie Dureau’s last residency set at the Public Bar, The Nation Blue’s last set before new album at The Old Bar, Blueline Medic (everyone’s saying it could be their last set ever??) at the Arty and The Scandal and Grim Fandango at Catfood Press, both of whom are apparently bowel loosening-ly exciting.

Since paying such dedicated devotion to your couch can only lead to intense lethargy, alcoholism and possibly bedsores, I’m definitely leaving the house next week. I’m thinking of going to Peninsula Lounge to catch an extra Strung Out/NUFAN show even though the venue proved nothing short of terrifying (like, bowel loosening but not the fun kind) last time.

When the public bar boasts more tribal tatts than a Bali brothel and someone is legitimately requesting Three Doors Down and Papa Roach on the jukebox (like HAY BOYZ, HOW FULLY SICK IS THIS SONG N STUFF. MAKES ME WANNA DRY HUMP A BOTTLA BUNDY EH BRO?) the warning bells are suddenly a’clangin. I will persevere with my road trip, however. The life of a raging fan girl is a selfless one, my friends, but one that I must live with nonetheless.