Another Sunday night in Bake Town.

ho hum....

A friend of mine came into town this weekend for a visit. We decided to go downtown to tavern that features live music check out the bands. We got there at 9:00, only to find about 10 people milling around and a single mic stand in the middle of the floor. Eventually a smattering of hiply clad people arrived. The best/worst dressed award went to three girls (who were probably born in the 80’s) trying to make some very ugly 80’s area clothing look cool. It was hopeless. My friend and I entertained ourselves ogling the girls ensembles until 10:30 when it appeared the band was finally ready to play.

The “band” it turned out, was 2 dudes and a drum machine. The drum machine was turned onto it most basic and fastest beat, and the dudes began to tune their guitars. One stood forward and the other stood with his back to the audience. There was a lot of feedback and the guy looking forward leaned in toward the mic and shouted a few times. This lasted approximately a minute. When the “song” ended and the pair began their second selection of the evening my friend & I looked at each other with shock, horror and amazement and began to laugh. The three girls in the bad clothes who had been standing right in front suddenly retreated to a corner. I looked around to gage the other’s responses and found most people looking physically ill. When the third song began (which coincidentally sounded exactly like the first two) we ran for the door. I have never heard anything so horrible in all my life. I’d rather listen to cats mating.

Walking home I began to tell my friend about my neighbor’s monster truck with the pink plastic ball sack. We decided to steal them, paint ‘em blue and return ‘em later. Giggly wildly we crept around the corner and snuck up the truck. My friend grabbed the balls, gave ‘em a good twist and off they came. Running home again laughing uncontrollably, I wet my pants.

This little piggy went wee, wee, wee, all the way home.