Timpressionist (timpressionist) wrote,

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I wanna be Keith Richards when I grow up, but without the massive drug use.

The World's Greatest Street Musicians (actual name: Superdork & the Wishy Washy Let's-Not-Talk-About-Its) played again last night. Who knew that playing a bunch of rampantly odd songs with a crew of rampantly wierd guys outside a late-night pizza joint would make me feel like a better human being?
It does, if only because it means I'm creating something while drinking cheap beer, as opposed to just sitting around drinking cheap beer. some show highlights:

--We set up. we tore down. we set up again around the corner. we don't have an extention cord. we do have beer. we have an extention cord. we kick twelve kinds of ass.

--We out played a 12 piece klezmer band that broke the truce of "Y'all be over there, we'll be over here" by moving their set-up to directly across the street from us. Our five-foot, 96 pound singer/guitarist bellowing "That's fucking rude!" in place of the actual lyrics of the chorus is probably one of the best moments of my life.

--We were invited by an ex-Ranger, ex-con biker named Shadow to play at his gang's clubhouse anytime. Group leadership has decided it's probably not worth it to go there. I'm good with not getting the shit stomped out of me by bikers.

--the drummer got hit on by a girl the rest of us know to be insane. his line: "I'm kinda crazy too. I like crazy." the sagacity of the bassist: "you don't want [her] kind of crazy."

Other than that, I've been feeling sort of empty, but in that bucket-to-be-filled expectant way. Which is probably an improvement.
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