I’ve just spent the whole fucking night
playing pool with Bob on a threadbare,
half-size, buck-a-play table.
“Research,” I call it.
Bob calls it “Thursday,”
and he’s right.
— Kevin Connolly, “Junkmale”
My favorite part was when Terry auditions for a punk band seemingly the day after he rolls into town. The group is the house band at a local club and apparently they were in need of a singer/guitarist/songwriter, because there are a ton of rhythm sections hunting around for a singer/guitarist/songwriter.
(Note: there are no rhythm sections hunting around for a singer/guitarist/songwriter. Ever.)
The Day My Kid Went Punk does get one thing right, and it’s something I can personally attest to:
Girls will pay attention to you if you dress flamboyantly and play guitar, even if you’re a dork.
