Coincidentally, Metal In Inappropriate Places Is The Name Of My Wham! Tribute Band
I’m unsure if there’s an appropriate place for metal after you’ve been kicked out of mom’s basement. There’s a 0 percent chance of you actually playing in front of real people, or girls for that matter, so you have no shot at finding a venue. If you were able to play music for girls you wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place, because metal would be the last thing on your mind. You’d have a warm couch to sleep on at the very least. And it’s not that you couldn’t find a venue if you really wanted to. I’ve just noticed the majority of metal heads tend to have absolutely terrible stage fright, life fright, and general fright. All the posturing in the world won’t make up for the moment when you step onstage, stare into the audience, and projectile poop yourself into another dimension.
Then again, wearing a sturdy diaper can usually counteract any on-stage defecation issues — unless that’s part of your act. In which case, poop everywhere and see where that gets you. At least you’ll be known as that guy who ripped off his pants and dumped all over the stage instead of that guy who plays a guitar that sounds like a chainsaw that needs a tuneup.