I remember my favorite nights were just getting drunk and walking around in the East Village kicking over garbage cans. Just the night. Just the night. Just that it would be night again. And you could go out, you know? It just seemed glorious. And you’d be humming these great songs and anything could happen, and it was usually pretty good. You’d pick up some chick. You’d have an adventure. You’d go to some fantasy where you’d never been before.
“
| — | Legs McNeil in The Uncensored Oral History of Punk (via brooklynbridg) |
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