|
500 FT. Of Pipe |
 After arriving at the Lager House this past
Saturday to find my boyfriend’s hands wrapped around a young
Rockabilly chick's waist and lips locked on her neck, I was fresh on the
hunt to equally piss him off. Instead of jumping the bones of some Fonzie,
who were all metalheads five years ago, and still sporting same coat, now
only with collars up, I made sure that my victim would rock my leather
soul, and not with bopsy beatnik tunes. As I was scooping up my heart off
the floor, I arose to Kevin standing at the bar. Kevin is recent stoner
friend I made after moving to Detroit, MI that was in 500 FT Of Pipe lightyears ago. “Wanna come to my car,” he says. In the five second and
letter, record-beating time it took, I revengefully accepted his proposal.
“I have this never-heard- before cd that I want you to have, plus I have
drugs.” Like their orchestrating organs erupting with underwater riffs
rising into outer space, my eyes lit up. Once inside his monster stoner
mobile, he hastily scrambled for the full-length. “Who put it out?” I
asked. Much to my surprise, it was a well known label that Monster Magnet,
QOTSA, even Black Sabbath themselves had been on before. “Ourselves!” Once
found, he soon scrambled some more. “You must have the good kind,” I
implored. “I got enough to get you high, baby” he coaxed. “You got a man,”
he asked? “Yeah, but I haven’t seen you and your girl in Royal Oak,
lately.”
“She’s still around, but it’s just…” “She looks like a dancer,” I interrupted. “Exactly!” “Are you still wanting to get together and rock soon?” I switched the station. “Of course!” By the end of the night and drugs, the wasted Rockabilly was on my lap going straight for the throat. “That is so hot,” Kevin snapped with his camera phone. (The moral of this review is if your going to
cheat on your girlfriend, you better make sure she don’t have 500 Ft Of
Pipe already ripping her and the chick you were cheating with a new
asshole at once) |
|
-Smutstrutter |