It’s hard to deal with the 21 year olds at the clubs once you get past thirty. It’s like a different language sometimes - I was talking to this cute girl, she mentioned Hot Topic, I thought she wanted to talk about global warming. I tried buying her a drink, and she got mad because I didn’t know the names of her favorite bands. She said - “Hey Tool, you’d better Fall Out Boy or there’s going to be Panic At The Disco, my Big & Rich Gym Class Heroes are going to No Doubt kick your Black Eyed Peas, so here’s your Nickelback, you Outkast, crawl on back to your Linkin Park in your Ludacris Plain White T.”
But I’m from the 80’s, so I’m not going to put up with that. “Listen Cinderella, there’s no Warrant for you to be such an Iron Maiden, maybe your Motley Crue Culture Club of Beastie Boys is down with your Poison Twisted Sister Vixen act, but the Police are going to have to stop the Slaughter if you, your Madonna complex, and your ugly friend Toto too don’t hop back in your Starship and Journey back to Chicago or Boston or Europe or even Asia for all I care!!” And then she went Wham!, right in my Wang Chung.
