adventures!
Periodically, we are let out of our cages to roam the streets. You can read of our exploits here if you're inclined to waste your time.
 METABOMB VISITS AURALNAUTS A thing what happened, By Mitch Mcconnell So…first things first. We should probably explain exactly who the Auralnauts are. For the uninitiated, the Auralnauts are a couple of dudes who have entertained the masses in delightful ways for the last handful of years. We at Metabomb have relied on their in-depth analysis of historical events to keep us going during those late night deadlines. They usually educate through a series of audio and/or visual aids. An example:  You see kids, what Auralnauts does is examine, analyze, and then deliver thought-provoking theories and dissections of some of history’s greatest moments. If you’re looking to get caught up, may we suggest starting here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WSCm8yAxBr8  As long-time fans of this series, we nearly exploded with delight when we heard they were throwing a party down in Brooklyn to premiere their latest project! And the fact that it wasn’t far from Gloomdore was icing on the cake! So, with reckless abandon, we cancelled all our appointments, anniversaries, and children’s birthdays to visit these guys and witness the latest in the series! The Governess CJ Lemons, and Scott decided to pile into Evan’s Metamobile for another adventure!  Evan was thrilled to show us all the latest, state of the art Geo-tracking, and audio enhancements made to his slick ride!  We still don't know what this thing from 1997 is. And, of course, we were thrilled to head down to Brooklyn, as the scenery in early spring is always a treat!  The ride down was only a quick 4 hours through some New Jersey’s finest car lots and forests of fast food feasteries. And once we arrived, the Big Apple greeted us with some kind of emergency flare, as if the town itself was warning it’s inhabitants that we had arrived...and they should board up their windows.  We then weaved and bobbed throughout the mean streets of Manhattan, until we finally crossed the bridge and arrived at Hipster Central (A.K.A. Brooklyn). This was the first thing that greeted us as we got out of the car.  We're not kidding. At first, we were a little put off, but then realized it summed up everything and would look great on our tombstones! Bonus!! This was obviously an omen and we could tell it was going to be a great day!! We had a few minutes to spare before we headed to the party, so we figured we’d get a bite to eat. And since most of us simply scoff at the very idea of vegetables, there was only one thing we could do.  Our good pal Gat (who has chosen to live amongst the hipsters in Brooklyn) agreed to meet us at Fette Sau…and it was fuckin' off the chaaaain! Clearly, they not only have a love for meat, but it’s tribesfolk WORSHIP it! Evan waited in line as if to order food….but Gat and the Governess just sat down at someone else’s table and decided to dig in.  After all, there was this heavenly platter of meat just sitting there, seemingly for us. So we made ourselves at home.  After a scuffle with the original owners of the plate-o-meat, we decided to do a few more things before heading to the party. And since there was going to be a lot of walking, it was a good thing CJ had on her new limited-edition Glock Johnson’s!  The rest of our cultural-filled afternoon consisted of intellectually stimulating activities, such as: Admiring the subtle aesthetics of the Vape Museum:  Breaking wind in an old book factory:  Pole Dancing classes:  Getting lost:  And talking with this guy:  But all of that would pale in comparison to the miracle found on Avenue J.  Okay…Let’s just take a moment here. This can’t be overstated…. Di Fara’s Pizza on Avenue J. It’s DEEP in Brooklyn. Way down there. But if you come to Brooklyn, and there is only one place you can visit…only one thing you can see and experience…then Di Fara Pizza should be that place. It’s unassuming. It doesn’t look like much. But there are secrets inside. Secrets that make you ponder the universe and your place in it. Scott can be seen here finishing a slice. You can almost see a tear form in his eye as he prays for all of those who have not had the opportunity to be here…for they have not truly lived.  It’s really that special. At that moment, we made a pact to make an annual pilgrimage. You should too. http://www.difarany.com/ After that religious experience, we agreed it was getting late and it was time to head to the shindig. But….well…we hadn’t eaten in like…an hour…..so we just HAD to munch on some pie. We hit the brakes and dove into Four and Twenty Blackbirds for some pie and coffee. Evan can be seen here pointing at his stomach. Motioning for the pie-master to put delicious sugary goodness inside him. The pies looked overwhelmingly unbelievable....so we ordered one of everything at the pie bar.  Mission Accomplished!  Okay….enough was enough…we HAD to get going. Seriously. The hell did we decide to come down here for anyway? We wondered through the cavernous maze of Hipsterton, trying to find the venue, when we came across a group of people who looked like fellow degenerates….so we decided to hang out with ‘em…just to see what all the hubbub was.  But lo and behold, we arrived at the correct location!  YUSSS!! The last Laser Master! A place to study with fellow history buffs! Once we pushed our ways inside, it was clear it would be a night of education! We got our drink on:  Our dance on:  Hit our hoity toity quota:  And prepared ourselves for the presentation of a lifetime.  We could tell this was going to be an exciting lesson.  Someone even brought strange sex toys.  This disturbed Evan to no end.  But all was well, especially once the Laser Commander showed up.  Then the Auralnauts themselves showed up. They are shown phasing through time here.   And finally, we received a fascinating retrospective on the trials and tribulations of Tree World.  We learned of the threats…  We learned how some of the indigenous people slowly went insane….  And other things….   It was a highly informative and entertaining lecture taught by two very kind Auralnauts. Then…believe it or not…we got to hang with one of the Auralnauts! Zak! We didn’t annoy him at all! As per usual with people we meet!  (special commedation to Auralnaut Zak for posing for our joke) Then we got in a wreck on the way home. 
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  Please note: Everything in this story is true. Not one single thing has been made up. In the land of Gloomdore, winter lasts an unbearable 10 and half months. The weather is brutal, misery-laden, and will kill ya as soon as look at ya! But despite the fact that going out in that kind of weather is akin to fighting an army in Siberia, it does NOT, repeat…does NOT prevent us from going out to get a slice. This has been written. This has been said. This is gospel. And though a trip to pizza risks driving on roads which are paved with suicide, pizza must be had. In the land of Gloomdore, it is all the natives have. It is all that gives them life. And yet, though this pilgrimage is guaranteed to extend one’s life another week, some Gloomdorians just have had enough…and would rather perish. Take Bill, for example....  Bill loves pizza. Bill NEEDS pizza. Bill has fought for pizza. But on this day, Bill nearly gave in to the Great Winter Assault of Gloomdore, Part II, o’ 18 (the official name of the storm.)  And who can blame him? The very idea of heading out in a storm that would make any native Gloomdorian cower in fear is unfathomable! The ride was long and quiet. Everyone in the car was second guessing themselves, doubting each other, and taking a deep hard look at the decisions that have led up to this moment.  Even when heading into East Stabbingshire for that rare, fragile, temporary warmth, the city itself seemed to be mocking us.  But we would not be deterred! Hellll no! It only made us hungrier. Well…most of us. Maybe part of what was bothering Bill was the idea of actually entering the realm of East Stabbingshire. It’s not exactly a place you simply mosey into with a chipper glint of hope on your face. Who KNOWS what you’ll have to deal with when you get there!!!! Muggers, rats, despair, psycho’s…maybe even ugly people! It’s a place where the promise of a “Way out” mocks you going up and down the street while spraying dirt-snow on you.  But there IS no way out. It’s nothing less than a constant, never-ending battle for survival. As seen here in exhibit A, the fight for survival began as soon as Matt and Evan stepped out of the car.  Now, some find the screaming horns and random middle-finger flailings of East Stabbington to be charming…inspiring even! But some, like Bill that day, find it a bit much. Perhaps intimidating. Here, Bill was locking his hands behind his head, mistaking Evan for a mugger or an angry police officer. Clearly an honest mistake in a life-threatening blizzard.  After a good chuckle, we flopped through the sludge and snow and piles of failure while caroling “I Love L.A.” The Randy Newman classic is much like singing jingle bells in December for normal people….we just sing it all the time in Gloomdore.  Once inside the East Stabbingshire Pizzeria, Evan tried to cheer up Bill with questions like “Wasn’t that good, buddy?” and “Totally worth risking death, right?” Bill mostly responded with stares.  Bill couldn’t deny that the pizza was magnificent, but it was clear the Gloomdorian winter storm was getting to him. It was spreading like a virus. Even Matt, who’s usually all in for anything requiring him to go out with people, was a victim of the seeping depression.  Eventually it got to all of us. Evan, who had stayed strong to the bitter end, was now reaching the depths of despair. And as he realized this, he stormed out of the pizzeria…looking for answers elsewhere.  And after miles of searching, he found it…  Some…store…what had snow on it. A superior store what had snow on it. It was like a beacon we all flocked to. We knew that this shelter would rescue us from the chilling sadness outside. Inside was heat, delicious coffee, and pure joy. It just had to be. See? It’s great. Soooooooo fun! Right Bill?    What a fucking waste of a day.   WHEN BENNY BOUGHT US LUNCH |
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