A punk rock friend of mine exclusively listens to punk rock and lives the punk rock lifestyle (regularly dining on triple-patty burgers washed down with thick shakes, paid mostly with a collection of spare change). He tried, in vain, to rape my ears with the strains of the
FM Knives but I was too busy absorbing the squishy pansy-ass feelings of
Sufjan Stevens and eating vegetarian nut roast with a side of lemon-drizzled radicchio while wearing sweatshop-free loungewear from
American Apparel. Eventually, my hearing went
"boi-i-i-innnng!" and punk rock seduced my heart through the likes of
Automatic.
In a related story, I recently asked a punk rock acquaintance to brainwash the tastebuds of the windmills of my mind. Rest assured, he is punk rock but I don't know him well enough to be aware of his dining habits. My assumption is that, being a punk rock, he eats grease and lard and antler parts and sniffs glue for dessert like all the punk rocks do. But never you mind--the main thrust of my story is this: he tells me listen to
The Carbonas--which is well and good--but why didn't he set me up on a blind date with
Les Breastfeeders instead? Yes, that name is perfection itself, but the music has impregnated me with the sperm of shout yelling on
Ostrogoth-À-Gogo and
Viens Avec Moi, and why would I ever want to abort such a precious gift?
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