Friday I'm in Wuv D - runk

Part I: Let's Meet up at the Urinal
Friday night, after a couple homemade rum and cokes at Palazzo DiYeti, I saw a decent set by the Aeroplane Pagaent at the Mercury Lounge. While their vocal melodies didn't come across as memorable, the place was full and even seemed almost sold out. Yeah, I was stunned: the first of five bands that night, the least known, and they really packed'em in.

After their set, I ran into a familiar face waiting for a turn in the Mens Room. Of course, I wasn't 100% sure, so I threw him a couple questions: "Are you in a band?" Yes. "A band that's actually not playing tonight?" Yes. "Are you in... Slowlands?" Yeaaaah! It was Josh Kolenik, the main wrecking force behind the group. I told him how disappointed I was to learn he wasn't from the Mid-west (he wore an Oilers hat the first time I saw them), and that I really liked the album they just released. I'm not the only one either. Check these reviews out: Rachael, Amrit, and Jeff have all joined the chorus of praise.

Part II: I'd Rather Get Cialis Offers
After taking our leave of the Mercury, we hopped over to Scenic where I had to turn down an opportunity to join the mailing list of the band we just missed. Well, I saw them play ONE song. "That should be enough," the manager told me.

It wasn't.

I ran into Matt Fake Century -or I should say he ran into me. He's been a Mugs fan by association much longer than my recent "discovery." The Mugs themselves started off the set with mostly songs I wasn't familiar with, but ended with all their strong stuff. By this time, the drinks were working the magic, so I really can't give an accurate review.

Part III: They Call Me Doctor Worm
In my party mode, I agreed to head to Carrol Gardens to check out some band Angela's friend's boyfriend was in. You're probably thinking what I was thinking: Some friend's boyfriend's band? Awesome.

Turns out, it wasn't a band at all... but laptop electronica. You know, the type that repeats for hours and hours? N-ss N-ss N-ss nonstop. How drunk was I by this point, you ask? Let's consult the fist:

That's me, my fist, and the shadow caused by my fist on the projected visuals. And that's the guy at the laptop, if you couldn't tell. By Law, Section III Article B, he's bald with standard-issue black frame glasses. That's also why I think James Carville must do electronica when he's not battling demons republicans. Hell, for all I know, that was Carville.

Anyway, on the walk home around 3:00, I made a fool of myself to Rachel, Angela's friend, since at one time she had in fact dated the guitarist of They Might Be Giants, Dan.

I kept singing, "'They call me Doctor Worm. Good Morning, how are you? I'm Doctor Worm...' That's more fun than N-ss N-ss N-ss"

... and into the night....