Get your metal gear, it's headbanging time

I weaseled my way into a concert tonight after taking part in a few open call interviews for jobs I wouldn't want in high school, and the same goes nearly ten years later.

I actually completed an interview for a position within Dialogue Direct's "Street Team" (my wording, not theirs) to pester New Yorkers on the street in some feeble attempt to badger them into donating money to a good (assumption) cause: Children.

I'M TRYING TO BE ONE OF THESE GUYS--WHAT HAS BECOME OF ME?

The other interviews were for restaurants, but what struck was that the female interviewer was likely pushing fifty and absolutely rocking a nose ring. The fuck? I'd go on, but I think I just jinxed myself out of the running for that job. Then again, if that's the case, I'll proceed.

Nose rings are pretty terrible for men and women of any age; isn't a person supposed to realize as they grow older that trends don't last because they lean toward the moronic to begin with?*

But that isn't where the day got interesting, come to think of it the day never DID get interesting, activities simply developed/appeared.

A quick rundown of the day's highlights and lowlights before I pass out and strip this entry of what little cohesion and direction it possessed already:

• $2 margaritas? In New York? You bet! And if you show up at the right time, they'll let you make your own BEHIND THE BAR. Feel free to stiff yourself on the tip--you didn't earn it.
• Tecmo Superbowl is back with a snowed-out (in appearance--remember when you tried watching scrambled porn? Add some controllers.) vengeance. If you're unfamiliar with this game, then fuck you. Bo Jackson is the truth and a beast.
• Entirely too much pizza, how do the Italians do it? Give me a fucking burrito, I want to shove pizza up my ass. Why? I have no fucking idea, I'm just tired of eating it.
• The favorite part of any day for me is really when I get to surprise my girlfriend by dropping in on her at home and sharing some cuddling, eskimo kisses, baby talk, and then trying to convince her to let me penetrate newfound orifices. SO CLOSE!

After alllll this** I proceeded to the rock show.

In retrospect I'm glad I didn't pay $16. I missed half of the show and of the halve I witnessed you could lop off another half to keep the just the tasty parts.

Red Chord-Boring, sloppy, and derivative. Who would strive for a trifecta of this nature? If you're going to be sloppy be interesting, the same can be said for derivative sounds.

Genghis Tron-I was trying to get laid.

Baroness-Look up. I heard I didn't miss anything.

Converge-Unless you're not a fan, then you know they were great. A little sloppy*** to start but it was to be expected seeing as this was the opening night of the tour. After the rust was shaken, the shred was on in full force and I even got to partake in some moderate headbanging--which I always enjoy. The kids were going bonkers and I swear some bird who crowd surfed her way to the front was gonna try to instigate onstage bukakke on herself had security not grabbed her. She had the rape eyes, for sure.

All in all a good night. Someone take me bowling this weekend and someone else do my taxes. Hooray!

















*Fuck your highwaisted jeans/pants. You look dumb, frumpy, and ridiculous. Errr...oops.
**"LOL"?
***For the record, I LOVE sloppiness, overly precise music or vessels of expression as a whole (haha, I suck) seem inhuman to me without the occasional human error. Organic is good. I have a problem with it when the sloppiness detracts from the overall presentation.