When Kelly and I went and saw The Pains of Being Pure at Heart in concert a few weeks back, we got there early enough to check out the opening act. I don't remember the band's name off the top of my head, nor am I going to hunt it down on the Internet because, frankly, they sucked. I mean REALLY sucked. Donald Trump hairstyle level of sucking. OK, it was probably worse than that.
In any case, the real reason I posted this is because of the band's bass player. At the start of the show, he was donning a letterman's jacket from either a high school or a college or something. I could have cared less, until three songs in he took it off to reveal the main portion of his on-stage attire:
A shiny, teal wife beater.
Oh yeah, it was frickin' laaaaame looking. If the letterman's jacket was some kind of clue to his outfit being a costume, I missed the point of it altogether. What I didn't miss was Kelly, Mike R., Mel B and I cracking awful jokes about him long after the shitty music of their's ended and the had left the stage. Note to rock band members: Don't wear metallic teal wife beaters. It's not going to get you laid, and that is the singular reason you are in your band to begin with. Idiot.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment