After the shitshow that was Saturday night at HoZac’s Blackout Fest, I hopped in a car with Shocked Minds because why not. To sum up the experience: they ate my lip gloss and didn’t laugh at my amazing jokes (What’s the difference between a Greyhound bus station and a shrimp with big tits....?), but they always lit my cigarette like the true NYC-via-Atlanta gentlemen that they actually are. Epicycle was played, an Oblivians record on repeat, the late and great Jay Reatard rounded off the soundtrack of the night-now-morning. I really didn't want to see the sun rise, but as I haphazardly leaned on a street post while waiting for my Uber to arrive I thought to myself, "Thank the f*** god I got outta there."
