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The first punk show I ever went to was in Aalst, Belgium.  And it was a good, albeit strange, experience.   I met a mohawked French speaking Belgian whose facility with the English language consisted solely of “Es chicken shit.”

Dave:  What do you put in your hair?

CS:      Es chicken shit.

Tom:     What do you eat for breakfast?

CS:     Es chicken shit.

And so on, and so on.

The worst part of the show can when a drunk crust punk kept on flinging beer at Ray of Today, which caused a fist fight that quickly moved out onto the cobblestone streets outside the venue.  The drunk got his ass kicked.

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