Last night, me (Breakfast Makes Perfect), Jim (James Yates) and Matt (the Breakfast God, himself!) went to the Jeff Mangum show down in Bloomington. The opening acts were lame. Not bad, just lame (I won't say their name because I don't want to embarrass them on a blog nobody reads). While everyone else stood there, presumably transfixed by the dread-locked, wheatgrass-milkshake-chugging, diet vanilla-lite indie-folk opening acts, Jim, Matt and I (because we're immature and not as eerily polite as the rest of the audience last night), took turns trading jabs on blank text messages on our cell-phones.
This is a list of those jabs:
"I wonder how many contemplative indie boners are being popped in this room right now...."
"This is the music Terry Gross listens to whilst flicking her bean to HuffPo articles about ObamaCare."
"Vincent Gallo called and he wants his suck back."
"When he said 'philistine' I thought it was a reference to Phyllis from the Office and I couldn't take the song seriously anymore." (This one wasn't actually a text but something Matt yelled in my ear, three beers in).
"The band for people who don't know better...."
"I kind of feel like listening to public radio now...."
"Ask them to play the one song where they stop and Jeff Mangum plays."
There was also an ill-executed (because neither Matt nor I realized it was in quotes) joke Jim wrote about the band being allowed to play because they saved Jeff Mangum from an assassination attempt, which I thought was a Todd Margaret reference (which I haven't seen, but both Matt and Jim have been watching recently) and Matt didn't understand at all. I'd include it here, but Jim deleted it.
Anyway:
Yeah. It's self-congratulatory to post funny pop-shots you took at a lame opening band, but we're thinking about making this a regular feature, post-the-night-we-go-to-a-concert. So...DEAL WITH IT!
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