Oceanside gay murders, Balboa Theater, Gringo goes to TJ hospital, 20K fetuses, dog served at TJ restaurant
Bob McPhail 8:30 a.m., Aug. 17
So I totally feel like blogging right now. About my neighborhood.
I was at my local farmers' market buying some nutritious eats, when all of a sudden I heard this:
"I'm in the San Diego music scene. I love bands and cool music. I like to go to all the cool bars. You can catch me in the scene with a PBR can and creepy moustache. My balls hurt. I don't bathe.
Generally, I spend my spare time hung over, and trying to fu ck other dudes' girlfriends. When it works, I am happy. Most of the time it doesn't work. So I'm mostly sad all the time.
I like to talk shit about bands I don't like a lot. Especially the bands of dudes whose girlfriends didn't want to sleep with me.
I used to play drums. Then my band broke up. Now I just sit around doing weird shit with my as shole all day instead of playing music. Wanna hook up?"
What's with people these days? Geeeeeeeeez.