I’m really tired today! Could be because last night , Food-and-Live-Music-Loving Companion and I went out to the Great N.Y. Noodletown and ate our weight in fried things like duck, chives and crispy noodles, then went to the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory (where, by the by, the ice cream is made of cream, fat and then some fatty cream) and then went to the Futureheads show at Bowery Ballroom.

Food-and-Live-Music-Loving Companion realized he knew the bouncer (because, of course, who doesn’t know a Hell’s Angel? Don’t we all?) – they used to be neighbors! My love interest was neighbors with the Hell’s Angels and got to  know them – which is thoroughly enjoyable to me because I assume that every day and every encounter would be just like Pee Wee at the biker bar during his Big Adventure. (”I say ya let me have him first!” Anyone? Anyone besides Becky?”) and this particular Angel got us a table in the balcony – we were royalty! V.I.P! Lucky dogs. It was a really good show and we were like 9 feet above the band and it was kind of awesome. Which is why I’m too tired to come up with a pun. Help me, won’t you? We can make this into a game like the New Yorker caption contest – I’ll provide the pun, you pitch me the show. This requires people’s comments. Don’t make me look foolish, readers. Comment!

Here’s your pun – GO:

Second to Nun