The Cod is, well, devastated by the devastation in his hometown. It appears that doctors at the hospital where the Cod's corporeal host stepped on the scene back in the day spent a lovely spring afternoon performing emergency amputations. An act of terror, no doubt. If you have a dog in the exotic foreign terror vs. watery domestic terror, you are a small person and I want you to stop reading now, and find some other place on the Internet with other tinfoil hat people. Here, until I feel the need to switch to brown liquor and fresh air, an effort to celebrate the city I love, things that make us love Boston.. I was compelled to this by the mix that Phil Nel pulled together, and in a remarkable bit of bridgin the gap between my synapses and and YouTube, the medley of songs mentioning Boston that WBCN used to play. I sent money to my favorite Boston charity, and so should you, and give blood, etc, But, in an effort to extort a good feeling from a terrible terrible day, I will share an array of Boston stuff - feel free to dm or email suggestions. It's on the chicken soup principle, but chowder, because Boston.
Mr. Dave Roberts:
The Del Fucking Fuegos:
Ms. Isabella Stewart Gardner, who did not give many fucks at all:
I'll bet that the families sweating out ER waiting rooms at Mass General would love to be able to step out for a roast beef sandwich instead of having a high end converted/prison/club there, but I digress.
And Ty Law, possbily waving to newlyweds and 80 of their nearest and dearest friends gathered at Ground Round?
Tony Maws, getting down with a bluefish: