i hauled my ass down grand in williamsburg to meet the boys for practice at danny screams. just a name on the door and a first floor apartment acting as band space and living quarters. the drum set resembled a should-be-retired hooker - years of empty banging had oppressed her beauty. though, she wasn't really pretty before she started charging by the hour. who cares. we had ample supply of cold tall boys. this is rock and roll. it's only real if you play on shit that makes you feel like you're a starving artist.
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