When I was in high school I would write show reviews on my myspace blog. They were usually for local bands--pop punk, ska, rock, and similar genres that sixteen-year-olds are generally drawn to. These blog posts were of a low caliber--poor usage, minimal grasp on the English language, and filled to the brim with teenage angst and what I believed to be witty sarcasm. Now that I'm older and more mature I figured that I would revisit this topic of writing, but on what I now fill my free time with instead of concerts. Here is my review of not going to a show last night:
There I was at 3 pm; sitting in front of a blank computer screen, twiddling my thumbs and staring at the ceiling. My girlfriend was out of the house for the evening--out of town for work. It was time to party. I searched through sofa cushions until I found every last bit of change. Three dollars and forty cents. With that I ventured out to see what I could afford. I returned home with two hundred milliliters of cheap vodka and a bottle of orange soda; the perfect ingredients for a poor man's screwdriver. I spent the next several hours doing exactly what I had been doing before all of this excitement, except more drunk. The evening ended in a nostalgic reminiscing of times spent with my old friend, Four Loko. I cried myself to sleep in the corner.
Overall I would give the venue a 1/5 rating. That place is a fucking mess. The entertainment gets 2/5, I guess. I don't really remember much, though I think I woke up with a handful of vaseline down my shorts.
It's a like a cold splash of water in the face when you wake up and realize that you've been cursed with maturity. Reality is so unreal.
ReplyDelete