20 minutes ago I was at my secret chicken wings-eating spot in the suburbs, eating chicken wings and secret tator tots as part of a monthly friend-mixing event. The chicken wings-eating spot is not really secret but I'm not about to advertise it because it's already quite busy on wing night. The tator tots were secret because nobody knew my friend and I had them. We ordered and ate them before everyone else got there for the regularly-scheduled wings. I say monthly because I only go once a month even though wings night happens every week. It's a friend-mixing event because I have literally never been there without meeting at least one, but often times several, new friends of friends of friends. (New rap lyric idea: "I got friends on friends on friends." Ah, maybe not.) I brought my friend with me this time. It was the first time I've mixed one of my friends into the wing crew. I think it went pretty well. If they had know about the secret tator tots, who knows what might have happened though.
Anyways, now I am here, at the noise convention. It's tits, man. Tits and mint and kind of totally tubular (and not at all square pegs,) but mostly just tits. It's like Mother Love Bone vs. Riistetyt in a staring/whispering-but-mostly-blinking/screaming contest, where all the officials are people who dropped out of MCAD in favor of MIAC schools and were then forced to dress in drag...at least right now. It changes every 10 minutes. Literally every 10 minutes it changes. It's pretty much the best place you could ever be. When I move to the suburbs, sell all my records, and hang my bike in the garage, these are the TC nights I'll miss the most.
Audience member to naked man: "Nice cock, bro."
|Hexagon Bar, Mpls, MN, 6/6/13|