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Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Tales to Tickle Your Terror


























If I may, for a moment Windsor, indulge me in a rant of old.

Sometimes, your friends may post a picture to the FB of you taken at a New Year's bash looking surly in a paper hat. You may find that said picture has been cross-posted to a group celebrating the picture's location: everyone's favourite deathtrap, The Loop. And it may bring you joy to peruse the group, remembering all the good times you had at that establishment. And then you may find a post on a discussion thread that ruins it all.

"[This group] is full of unfaithfuls. i looked through all the pictures and theres about two faces I recognized, one being Mudsley who doesnt even regular at the Loop, and the other being the [homophobic epithet] from Neverending White Lights.

"[M]y point is, get rid of half the pictures of douchebags who feel cool because they went to the loop, or 'that freak bar'."


And you may find the posting curious, and you may wonder more about who posted it, to see if you recognized him, given the years you spent at that particular bar. And you might find you do not recognize him, because the author was born in 1987.

Two things.
  1. At 20 years of age, do you really want to play 'I'm more hardcore than you' with Loop-goers? Because we can play. I could tell you that I saw Eric's Trip when I was too young to get in. Or that I remember when Liam DJ'd on Boogie Nights. Or that I remember when Boogie Nights were the night to go. Or that if you couldn't go Sunday, you went Thurdsay, but you definitely didn't go Saturday. Or that I remember when there was Swing dancing on Wednesdays and movie double features with free popcorn on Mondays. Or that my band reaped the benefits of the bar's temporary closure in 2006, playing a show at The Avalon that Saturday, and having the place packed to the doors, because the Loopers didn't have anywhere else to go. Or that I remember when people didn't drink Double Mudds [the horror!].

  2. Or I could just tell you that the day you start judging people who go to the Loop, whether skaters, punks, goths or fratboys and barwhores, is the day you reveal you never understood what makes the Loop so special in the first place, you dumb son of a bitch.
To the morning.

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