Many years ago (when Laura came home and Mary was blind) my friends and I went to a NOFX concert at First Avenue in Minneapolis. We parked in the Target Center parking ramp (as lazy fans are wont to do). Well: the Target Center parking ramp stairwells were pretty gross. In those days, everybody knew that.
I forgot for a second and used the handrail to assist in pulling myself up the stairs. My friend Mitch saw me and gave me a nice preachy lecture about how you should never, ever touch anything in those stairwells because all the local bums come in there and pee all over the place. In a fit of I-don't-know-what because I'm a total germphobe, I looked ol' Mitch right in the eyeballs and, without losing eye contact, licked a good three foot section of handrail.
Later, I poured about a half bottle of whiskey onto my tongue (I suppose a few drops also spilled down my throat), hoping it would wash away the herpes, HIV, chlamydia and pregnancy I was sure to contract.
Why am I thinking of this, just now, 15 years later?
OH, I DON'T KNOW:
|Better not watch Wrecking Ball, her latest video. It'll make you hate yourself.|