I went to the Rock & Roll Hotel the other night to see The Very Best. And while one can argue whether, indeed, they were the very best that night, I can safely say that the crowd was the very best I've ever seen in DC.
But don't soil your pants over that statement because it doesn't take much to impress me at this point when it comes crowds in this city. Oh, the shambles I've seen.......
And honestly, let's not even pretend that crowd was anything close to awesome. Save for myself (naturally) and my companion, Butternuts, what made The Very Best's crowd the very best in DC was a group of joke-cracking high school kids, one of whom carried around an empty pipe. And while my current bout with the vapors disallows me from remembering the jokes except that one of them had to do with Pantera (I'm so high on Nyquil right now), I can tell you that I lol'ed a little bit with them opposed to at them (well, until I noticed the empty pipe), which is a pretty big deal around here. So kudos to you, high school kids. You did good.
And speaking of doing good (and now I mean the opposite of good but not in the Michael Jackson way), this blog entry is terrible! Don't blame me. Blame my the vapors and the Nyquil, which I've been taking liberally throughout the conscious parts of my day. There haven't been many. And even in those short spats of upright awakeness, all I've been doing is watching then re-watching this, which proves to me that high school kids are my favorite unintentional stand-up comedians in the history of ever:
Oh, and if you haven't heard of The Very Best and now you're like, "Duh. Of course I haven't because apparently The Very Best is a group that high school students who carry empty pipes around like to listen to and I'm a grown-up," I invite you to ignore your instincts and check them out now. Unlike porn, they're not just for kids. Wait, what? Nevermind. (Nyquil.) Listen to this:
And if you don't like it then in the words of Copper Cab (whose above-posted video I assume you've already watched thrice-thousand times), "CLICK THE F*CKING X, OKAY? GET THE F*CK OUT!" Just kidding! Stay. Keep me warm. Like Nyquil. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to having cold-medicine dreams about hanging out with someone named Butternuts and impregnating people's hands with my skillful dry hump. Wait, what? Nevermind. (That totally happens in real life.) NYQUIL! It's what's for dinner.