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.
