It's not real punk rock unless there's carpet on the walls.
Punk rock basement shows. I'm sure you could get too old for them, eventually, but I still pass for 20. Wingnut Dishwashers Union played tonight 7 blocks from my house. It was a dope show, and it was pretty rad seeing the poster I just made for them being dug so much. I had to be in a few conversations and awkwardly accept some compliments, and Meryl wasn't around to help me any. But the show was great, Pat has gotten widely known enough that there was a packed house (and backyard) for him, and everyone knew the lyrics. A sing/scream along that made it feel like Connecticut, and made me long to hear an old Johnny Hobo song or two.
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