The Black Lips Can Sniff My Left Tit

Strong words, I know, but well-deserving in my never humble opinion. Last night we hit the Wowsville going away shindig at Siberia. All the bands were fun, and although I was feelin' a bit knackered I was havin' a cool time. The last band, The Black Lips (God knows why they went on after the far superior and better known Little Killers), is a contingent of marginally talented high school kids (maybe they've reached college age by now, not sure) who play mediocre jingly stones style stuff. Nuthin' special at all, but for some reason they've established an incomprehensible but small following, probably 'cause they're kids, therefore a novelty.

So, they take the stage and the barely legal suicide girls in attendance, slimy bud-quaffin' rock 'n' rollers and the like go nuts. Hey, still no sweat -- that is until, mid-song #1, some ASSHOLE decides to toss a lit (lighted -- whatever) firecracker into the crowd. I think it was one of the band members. Anyway, the thing crackled and popped and sparked every which way, clearing the crowd away from it's landing pad and stinkin' up the joint in the process.

Call me crazy, but I don't appreciate senselessly aggressive acts approved under the guise of rebellious fun. This type of shit is akin to some big, drunk bruiser starting a violent one-man mosh pit or somebody throwin' a bottle at the band. It's obnoxious and juvenile and gets my Italian/Irish blood boiling!

That's why all those snickering little fuckers pleased with their forced debauchery can sniff my left tit.