Wednesday, 4 August 2010

SLAMMATOWN - Tex Perkins and the unwashed floor

A sticky floor gives you something to hold on to, with your feet, when five drunk men knock you sideways as they muscle past carrying six beers each. It holds you, like a subterranean lover, enabling you to bend, wobble, flex and lean. Stuck fast you can hang on to your hard-won position, not too far from the bar, with a good view of the band. Everything will be beautiful but nothing lasts forever, when floors become too sticky two separate yet equally horrible disasters may occur.

Disaster One; feet stay put when the rest of you moves, embarrassingly bruising consequences ensue. Disaster Two; feet slip out of shoes, bare soles touch the raw horror of foul floor and convulsive shivers invade all modes of thought, forever. Here now is a sorry tale of how Disaster One defeated the universe and Tex Perkins was lost to me forever.

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