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About five or six years ago, Metal Kid rented an apartment from a friend's dad in Fishtown, which at the time was a run-down blue-collar section of the city (recently it's been turning around). Well, one day a few months after he moved in, I went over there with a few people to check it out. Well, it was an efficiency, and it seriously looked like a dumpster exploded in there. I'm not the neatest guy in the world and this scared the hell out of me. There were newspapers and CDs everywhere, bowls half filled with milk and a spoon scattered about the room, and garbage all over the place. I sat on his futon which was actually cleared off, and the metal bars stabbed me when I plopped down. He just had a sheet over the futon, no cushion. Needless to say, I didn't go there for a long ass time afterwards. I mean, there's only so much AC/DC I can take (and that's amount is zero). At least the music set the appropriate mood. Nowadays, Metal Kid's new apartment is pretty clean, so at least he got his act together a little bit. But I'll still never go there for fear of being eaten by something that crawled out of his toilet. At least that's pretty metal. |