Saturday

Saturday Chels and I went to Columbus to see our peeps.

After awhile of hanging out at Diddy's, we thought hey -- let's go to a bar. This is what unfolded.

So, we're walking downtown and we go into this bar where we have to pay a $4 cover charge. I hate cover charges. They remind me of L.A. (sidenote to Chelsea: "that's so L.A."). Anyway, we walk in and a 40-something man with a mullet is singing "Purple Haze" with his band. His drummer is wearing a cut off Tshirt. It is important to mention that it was -15 degrees outside.

Looking around, we realize that no one in the bar was younger than 40, and in fact, the mullet man may have been the youngest guy there besides us. After 30 minutes of seeing a dude in an orange Hawaiian shirt play air guitar to every song on the mullet man's set list, we decided we needed a change of scenery.

That change of scenery ended up being a deranged biker bar where a band named Lollipop Factory ruined my night. With harmonies that attempted to mimic Queen and skin tight leggings paired with magician/Willy Wonkaesque hats, both my ears and eyes were in diress. Special thanks to Carrie who took some terrific shots of the band members in their stage costumes.