The Night Issue 6 Hit the Streets

The great thing about the city is there's never a shortage of things to get into.  Especially when you're out hitting the bricks, selling your wares, and basically acting like the drunken ass of an editor for the only underground magazine in town.  What could be better?

For those who wonder where It's Dagger Issue 6 can be found, well, I know I dropped off a handful at PVC and Eighth Street Tobacco on 8th Street.  Then, I left some at Sector 7G (where a kid outside said, "I'm not from here," when I offered him an issue because his girlfriend had a hot pink Misfits shirt on.  Since when do you have to be "from somewhere" to accept a free zine?  I'm not selling you Amway, idiot.  What's the underground music scene turning into?).  After that, I know I went to my work place and got hammered there.

Now, that's where things get fuzzy.  Brian and Charlie helped to distribute some magazines, as did Beba (at the Loft), so I know they got some out there for me.  I went to Soul Bar and listened to Rap, drinking PBR tall boys, and left some there.  I think Metro Coffeehouse, maybe Sky City, and probably the Firehouse.  Book Tavern, I seem to recall stumbling in there and telling them something like "mffrrgrrfll" which means "here is your copy of It's Dagger magazine, my fine fellow friends in this downtown business establishment."

After four or five glasses of wine and some beer at my work plus beer at Soul Bar, I made my way finally to the Firehouse, where I got really drunk.  I mean, stupid, ridiculous, talking all night about Mel Brooks and Woody Allen movies kinda drunk.  I know I talked my friends to death (especially Grace and Carrie, poor girls), and declined a ride from my wife (not such a great idea).

To make a long story short, your esteemed Editor made it home alive, felt like crap the next day, but was healed enough on Sunday to take his son to the zoo (though my wife was sick and thus we hand to cancel the new Sunday routine of playing softball with friends).

Still, Issue 6 is out there, folks.  Good luck finding it, because for as far as I know, I might have passed out in an alley and dreamt everything.  Somewhere downtown, 150 issues of It's Dagger are waiting for bums to piss on them.
The Editor