(no subject)

Sometimes, I swear to god that my little brother's life is some sort of long-running, punk-themed sitcom, and that I'm just a side character with her not-as-well-rated spin-off. The past few days of his involvement in my life has included:
--his new band, Stabbed in the Face, named after what the former singer (a girl named White Power Linda) did to her boyfriend, the drummer
--Anal Cunt not showing up at the first Stabbed in the Face concert due to their guitarist being arrested
--$3,000 worth of gold chains found on the floor of the bar after a fight broke out due to extreme disappoinment at the lack of Anal Cunt and some misunderstanding about skinheads
--selling the smallest gold chain for $360
--discovering that the rest of them, at his house in Detroit, might have been eaten by the cat
--a high-speed chase down Grand River
--Detroit cops who let us go when they realized that we didn't have any drugs on us they could confiscate
--discovering that the person who reported the cat's gold ingestion was in fact a crustie junkie who probably stole the chains
--lots and lots of alcohol

I went to a meeting of a "gender non-conformists" group and met some really nice people and also started to learn how to sew, but there aren't any punk bands, gold chains, cops, or cats involved in that.