And write about it I will... because I feel like I have to.
Not because I was asked to, no.
Butt because it was just so damn fucking good that I don't think these fingers can function until they tell the five or less people who read this site about how damn fucking good it was.
And clearly I need these phalanges to function in order to go to sleep, wait, what?
So tonight I had dinner plans with good friends, great homemade food, new friends, a cute English fella and a big screen TV, and I cut the night short because I just had to catch Plan 37.
Not that I haven't seen them before, butt because I have seen them many times and my alien boner grows stronger every time my ears meet with their binary ridden alienthems (that's alien anthems for those who don't get really shitty word play jokes).
It's almost like that scene in Alien, if you swap pain for pleasure and the chest for my vahghinha... which, according to my previous statement would mean that my vahghinha has a boner, which is just alllll sorts of weird...

I've completely lost track of my point.
I'm sorry, I may be drunk.
What I think I'm trying to say isssss that my binoner (binary boner) now only seems to survive off of catching my alien heroes play as much as I possibly can.
And the more I see them, the more I love them.
I've said this before and I'll say it again, Plan 37 are one of the best punk bands taking over (TAKING OVER) Toronto right now.

Boners and aliens aside, I was lucky enough to make it down in time to catch BOIDS from Montreal and BOI did they ever BLOI (guhhh that doesn't work, I mean 'blow') me away. And they weren't even that smelly. as was promised in the Facebook event. They kind of left me needing to hear more, and I'm wondering if my binoner got boi-bombed into boinerville..

... I think I've gone too far with this.

Check out both bands, I'm off to be drunk somewhere where my fingers can't access a computer.

I'm Sarah, I'm drrrrrrrunk.