And without much further ado, it's the Bay Guardian Wank of the Week:

Here's the intro to a review of some band that played at the Make-Out Room last week. I think it's probably the most descriptive, most right-on description of the 9-5, Workingman Blues that I have ever read:

"A NINE- to-five, Monday-through-Friday desk job is an inhumane way to cage the human spirit, and the cognitive dissonance the weekend brings – work, work, work, work, work, quick, go have fun! Work ... – doesn't always help. I spent Monday trying and failing to "be part of the team," opting for my Bartleby the Scrivener "I would prefer not to" act, staring at the wall of my cubicle. After work I went to my volunteer gig HIV testing at the needle exchange, feeling low-energy and not really emotionally available. When that was through, I needed some comforting myself.

The Music Lovers at the Make-Out Room was the right prescription to scrub the dull patina of pain and diverted aspirations off my day. I caught about half a sweet and soothing song by openers New Telepathic Friends before heading out for a bite with J, who'd caught her stepfather cross-dressing over the weekend. Comfort food was in order.

When we got back to the club, my eyes were fixed at half-mast and I had a serious case of pork chop nod…"

Just add some slow, grooving tune and you got one hell of a beer commercial.


PS- Dear Giants: aaaaaaaaccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk