After eating cris-cut fries dipped in gorganzola and mac noodle drenched in cheddar I needed a place to violently frag an inside porceline fox hole where no one knew who I was and I could get a god damn beer for under two dollars.

What I thought would be a quick little bus ride to the heart of the ghetto turned out to be an adventure straight out of the fucking Odyssey. I was deceived by the siren bus driver who would rather have me stay on the bus than let me get off at the right stop. I felt something was off and so confirmed with Kyle on the T-moble that I should have gotten off ten blocks ago. At this point the sphinct was sick of my bullshit and would rather release the valve right there in my pants than wait for me to walk 20 blocks to Magoo. I promised it sweet nothings and prayed to the ass gods to please grant me safe passage. I also vowed never to eat fries dipped in cheese. I conceded that it was a bad fucking idea and thankfully the attacks subsided. I finally found 42nd and began my 15 block journey to Magoo's. I'd never been there before, but I had no idea it was so fucking far away. Every neon sign I passed was a let down. Finally, the place I seeked revealed itself to me. The attacks returned and I knew I would have to rudely go straight to the bathroom. As I entered all the regulars made it clear that I was not a regular. Ha. Fuck you. Without going into detail I felt amazingly refreshed, washed my hands and headed for the bar while I waited for T-bog and Kyle. Thankfully, the PBR was only a buck seventy-five.

The Bogg was looking for a few good men to garnish the stage of The Pig. I was pleasantly surprised of their mastery of the math heavy frequencies, but after the cheese heavy appetizers and the 4 dollar peebs the last thing I wanted was a fucking corndog and a cup of soda.

Behold, The Hip-Hop Taxi. We were in the middle nowhere. I called up and thankfully there was someone crazy enough to even pick us up. Tracy picked us up in his custom built hip-hop taxi with spring seats, amped JBLs and a fucking Pioneer 120watt per channel cd player complete with "cruise blue" backlights. He asked us what we listened to, I said "Freebird", but he wasn't having any of that. He popped in The Roots and we were out of Tbog land and headed into the city. The rest is unclear but pretty much covered by Kyle below. It was a rad evening filled with new bars and a new found respect for Portland's Taxi service.