Bam.
So I was at this bar last night. O'Aces (get it?). Let's just say for clarity's sake that it was both a place I'd never been to, and they served a lot of vodka. And I was playing the "spot the wrestling t-shirt" game. What was the first thing that greeted me upon arriving? A Marshall full-stack, and this dude rocking the Ibanez. And by "greeted me", I meant from the parking lot. Inside the car. With the doors closed. That guy was LOUD.
I didn't have my camera on me, but thanks to the magic of the internets, you can now witness him in all his glory. What's worse than hearing anything by Bon Jovi? Hearing just the intro, fumbled through, twice, and knowing that even after putting on a mediocre show, the guy playing guitar still made more money last night than I did, and was getting girls on top of it. Granted, there were somewhere between 0 and 0.4 girls in that bar that weren't skanking it up, hitting on guys with horrendous mustaches, dancing on the table like it was a strip club (and these may or may not have been the bartenders) and getting into fights with the bouncers, but still. It was a hot mess. It was my first townie bar, and I can say with confidence that no place does the townie bar better than Imperial, MO on a Friday night.
In closing, a short prayer.
Dear Lord. If I ever get this cool, kill me. And then reverse time so that others will not have seen me this cool, and will instead remember me as I once was. And if I ever think that cranking a full 8x12 in any situation other than a 30,000 person stadium is necessary, called for, or even acceptable, take my hands. No, literally, take them. So that I can't harm those around me.
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