Sunday, July 20, 2008

Path of Destruction

Music for the moment - "Angel of Death" by Slayer

When it was announced that TFN was leaving town, Z had made a comment that at least she knew she'd not be on call to bail us out of jail for a while. For the most part that was true. When TFN was gone, I maintained a relatively subdued existence. Granted, I was out nearly every single night because A.) I hate cooking for one and B.) I get cabin fever very quickly without any human interaction, but my hijinks were minor if not nonexistent.

When TFN got back into town, I remembered one of the best/worst qualities of our relationship - aside from all of the great qualities that we exhibit; best friends, in love and all that, we are also perfectly attuned partners in crime.

Within a few hours of being back together, we found ourselves in a minorly upscale cocktail lounge with friends. Being a Thursday, the special at this particular place was free Internet jukebox after 9 PM.

Right at 9 PM, we stormed the box and loaded it with the aforementioned Slayer, Public Enemy, and indeed any punk, thrash or speed metal song we could find that was fast, loud and preferably over-loaded with f-bombs and patently offensive.

Much headbanging ensued. But only at our table.

Within an hour, we had mostly emptied the lounge, aside from our party of eight.

It was humorous, and no guilt was felt as the waitress knew some of our party and seemed rather entertained as well. We tipped well as well.

So everyone, take note - TFN is back, and we are now intent on ruining your evening. Thank you, we'll be here all week. Try the veal.


Jennifer said...

Keep makin' your iMomma proud :-)

(And not to be gruesome or rubber-necky or anything, but if Ron StAmant can post pictures of his stubbed big toe ... you know ... could we maybe see a little of TFN's banged up gam?) [I'm not asking for me.]

fineartist said...

Zilla makes me laugh a plenty, and you, YOU too. And no it wasn't me she's asking for...

I'm imagining grandma and grandpa tight ass at the next table pooping their panties at blasting music peppered with f bombs. Hah.