Untitled — 1 year ago
hustlers, frat boys, louts, uber-drunks. vomit, urine, booze, garish neon lighting, super loud p.a.’s and cover bands bleeding into a cacophony wretched enough to turn anyone’s stomach. when i was a lot younger i would pick fights with bikers and frat boys and duck away, leaving the cops to clean up the mess and con too-drunk tourists for cash, maybe sweet talk shot girls out of booze. now i just stay away because i know there’s someone younger out there who’d love to take advantage of me. and even if i can keep my head on tight enough to be keen to it, i’d rather be aware of what’s going on where i can hear myself think and breath through my nose.
