No, I am never, never, never,...

No, I am never, never, never, ever, ever, ever going back to Market Street Cinema. Unless, of course, they are going to pay me to sit in that miserably dank and dreary cavern, and watch equally miserable, jaded, washed up, fading, socially maladjusted patrons and "girls" attempting what oddly, unintentionally, and uncomfortably, becomes a self-parody of the "Adult Entertainment Industry". This place was just a total downer in every sense. I could have been on 10 shots of tequila, 1 gram of cocaine, three ecstasy pills, 4 mushroom caps, smoked 1 joint, and smoked enough meth to kill a pony, and I still would have left there feeling like I was totally ripped off and depressed enough to forgo the remainder of my youth and join either the monastery or the Army. Two thumbs, and two big toes down to MSC! The greater question would, indeed, be: What the @#$% was I doing there in the first place? Please forgive me, for I know not what I do