Police confirm that two people were shot in an Allston apartment on the third floor of  15 Chester Street, according to Universal Hub.

The shooting happened around 10 p.m. on Friday night and both victims have been taken to Boston area hospitals, reports Fox 25. There are no reports on their statuses.

Police have found at least  6 bullet casings in the apartment, according to the Universal Hub.

More to come as the case develops.

Maybe it was that people refer to Tavern in the Square as “Tits” for short.

Maybe it was that I always found myself sitting at a table with an HD television screen within six inches of my face and music so loud that the only real conversation I could have with my friends was: “It’s so loud in here!” To which the other would respond, “WHAAAT?” before taking another slurp from the Purple Haze fish bowl drink centered in the table.

Most likely, it was the guys looking around like they were trying to catch a fish, meaning a tiny-skirt-wearing Boston University student, and pull her by her pink straw right from that giant plastic bowl of icy neon blue alcohol and into his Allston bedroom.

Whatever the reason, I didn’t like Tits. Whatever social outing this decision would prevent me from experiencing would be a sacrifice to the decency of humanity. I would never return.

Soon, however, detached hatred wasn’t enough to satisfy my Tits rage. No, that bar, coupled with my similar experiences at The White Horse, had lit something inside me: I needed to go back to Tits to document the Tits culture in writing.

But to write about Tits, I would need to become Tits, emulating my understanding of Tits and its “biddie” culture through both actions and dress one evening. (Biddie: See Urban Dictionary entries 1 and 2, “A girl that is attractive and available. … Damn I’m gonna meet some biddies tonight”; “footwear consists of Uggs, boots with fur on them, heels, or some combination of the three”).

For me, that meant dressing up in Ugg-like boots, a miniskirt, a low cut, somewhat off the shoulder neon yellow shirt, and just enough glitter makeup.

It didn’t start well.

“So, do you know why they call them the Denver Nuggets?” I asked the boy next to me as I twirled my hair, attempting sports talk after two vodka tonics during pre-Tits pre-game at T’s Pub on Comm. Ave. I was talking so much “I’m-from-Colorado-Therefore-I-Know-Stuff” sports talk that the boy was gone within 10 minutes.

After a brief moment of defeat and a slice of pizza, I was ready to sashay with my friend and fellow biddie-for-the-night deep into the heart of Allston. Because if there’s anything journalism has taught me, it’s you don’t take no for an answer. I too could be a biddie.

We went straight to the bar when we arrived at Tits, drank two beers and then set out to cruise for boys who were cruising for biddies.

We walked up to a trio of guys sipping drought beer off the dance floor and waited for them to make the first move. Twirling my hair and flaunting my turquoise-lined glitter eyes, I asked: “So, what brings ya ta Tits?”

Turns out they were BU law students taking a break from reading arduous casework. Not what I expected.

I found that other guys’ reasons for coming to Tits were similarly wide ranging. For some, it was the actually quite amazing fried pickles; for others, it was to watch the Celtics game, for many, they were just tagging along with friends for the first time; but they all had one thing in common: they were having a genuinely good time and didn’t just look like they were trying to get some.

Suddenly I felt very out of place.

Where were all the creepy guys looking to hit on us? Shouldn’t they be flocking in their slimy fishbowl ways? And more importantly, why has every guy I’ve spoken to thus far been genuine, nice and a really good conversationalist? The closest I got to a guy hitting on me was some dude passing by me and yelling, “I like your scarf!”

When we went out for the night with the mindset that boys would flock to us in our blatant attempt at biddie sexual appeal, use trashy pick up lines, or anything they could to reel us out of our fishbowls and into their arms, and then the only thing we got was an, “I like your scarf,” we suddenly found ourselves upset, offended even. We wanted to meet slimy guys. We wanted to be hit on. We wanted to have superficial conversations. We wanted to … wait, were we, do I dare say, too “biddie,” even for Tits?

As the music pounded our ears into an echoing whirlwind, the crowd and our drink tab were both far larger than desired. It was time to pack up what was left of our pride and attempt to confirm stereotypes via a relentless quest to pick up guys and head home. Either we out-biddied ourselves on a Friday night, or I should stop being such a nay-saying, judgmental Tits hater and sip from my fish bowl quietly at the bar by myself, where I belong.

The first thing I saw when I woke up today was a window plastered white. I left the house at 7 a.m. and stepped out into the second major snowstorm of this Boston winter.

It’s exactly 2.44 miles from my apartment in Allston to Johnnie’s Fresh Market in Brookline. I have to go to my paying job, and I’m slightly worried about my journey.

Residents of Allston are apparently waking up late this morning because barely anything is plowed.

By the time I am out the door, the streets are only cleared by the force of cars driving over the snow, and the sidewalks are indistinguishable. It seems that everyone else awake has the same idea as me: we must walk on the streets.

The Green Line does not seem like much of an option as each person realizes that not even the tracks are fully plowed and shoveled out. From a nearby train I can hear the conductor announcing to passengers that they must crowd to the front door in order to enter and exit the train car.

Gradually as I make my way towards Brookline the streets are clearer with each step. The sidewalks are plowed and the Boston University Campus Services are rushing to plow the areas surrounding St. Mary’s Street.

A Boston University employee that I recognize pulls over in his snowplow and acknowledges my insanity for commuting during the storm, but I feel a wave of relief when I see that Dunkin’ Donuts is open for business.

The businesses on Beacon Street that are opening at regular hours are salting and shoveling their storefronts for the safety of customers. Finally, I make it to work.

Needless to say, once I returned to my apartment this evening, I wasn’t planning to leave.

For the first of two nights that The Devil Wears Prada’s Back To The Roots Tour would be at Harper’s Ferry in Allston, the line to get in was stretched around the corner and a sign was posted on the door that the show was 100 percent sold out. Fans waiting in line without a ticket, hoping to see The Devil Wears Prada, Miss May I, and Your Demise up close and personal would be out of luck.

Starting promptly at 8 p.m., British hardcore band Your Demise took the stage. Promoting their new album, The Kids We Used To Be…, they’ve been touring in order to spread their UK popularity farther to the west. A smaller portion of the crowd showed good interest in their set, but with most people being there to see Miss May I and The Devil Wears Prada, a larger number of them saved their energy for the later bands. The band’s set was fairly short, but still solid. Soon enough they handed the stage over to Miss May I.

When the club went dark and Miss May I marched up onto the stage, the crowd immediately pushed together in anticipation. As soon as the music started they rushed the stage. With the club already sold out and well packed, the fans closer to the front were like a can of sardines.

The only break that the front rows received from getting crushed together was when lead vocalist Levi Benton initiated a wall of death. (For those who aren’t familiar with a wall of death, it’s an event that normally takes place at a metal or hardcore show, when the band tells the crowd to separate. Once the singer says "go", the crowd runs in from all four sides of the pit into a sea of moshing. It is an impressive sight, for sure.) Miss May I performed songs off of their older release, Apologies Are For The Weak, but with their new record, Monument just being released, they also advertised for, and played songs off of the new CD.

The band’s music was a big hit throughout the crowd, but with The Devil Wears Prada still waiting to go on stage, the crowd had even more energy left to exert.

With the club engulfed in darkness, The Devil Wears Prada began their set with their song, “Danger: Wildman,” a fan favorite.

For those in the crowd who thought Miss May I was rough, The Devil Wears Prada’s set brought it to a new level.

The fans packed in tighter, the pit got rowdier, and even more people sang along. Performing songs off of their first three full-length albums, and their newly released, Zombie EP, the band brought and unprecedented amount of energy to the stage and truly got the crowd to feel their music. Members of the crowd were moshing, jumping, and pumping their fists in appreciation. When the band took a break and asked the crowd, a show of hands showed that a fair number of fans would be coming back the following night to see the band play their second night at Harper’s Ferry. The band then continued their set, which went on for at least a half dozen more songs, including new tracks, such as Outnumbered. The band was very thankful to the fans for coming out to the show and supporting them in their return to small venues, which was the purpose of The Back To The Roots Tour.

They have definitely done a great job with the tour, with great attendance, and emotionally charged shows. If you didn’t get the chance to, make sure to check out The Devil Wears Prada next time they’re in the area.

The Rear Bar at The Kells ... ah, memories

Well, this sucks.

We know it’s had its share of trouble on the mean streets of Allston, but The Kells has a special place in the very large heart of Blast and its contributors from our holiday parties to our editor and intern meetings.

Now, according to The Boston Phoenix, The Kells in Allston is closing.

The Kells (161 Brighton Ave.) has been open for more than 17 years. It’s an Irish bar that had to adapt to a part of Boston that was becoming increasingly un-Irish. Hence, there’s an Asian-fusion menu now.

It has multiple function rooms that we gladly used all the time because they were free as long as you were buying something like food or drinks. According to its website, The Kells was ranked one of the top 100 bars in America by Playboy and was called “The Cadillac of Irish bars” by the Phoenix in the past, and we could see the remains of that even at our spring interns meeting a few weeks ago. The place is huge.

According to Boston Restaurant Talk, The Kells will be replaced by a Tavern on the Square franchise.

Forget Football.

Okay, it’s Sunday, and you feel like the only person in Boston who isn’t glued to the TV watching the Patriots game. So not true! It might seem like Tom Brady casts a spell that brings the whole city to a halt, but there are a million other things to do instead this Sunday. With everything from street fairs to poetry readings, here are a few ideas to get you started.

Matinee Madness

If you really want to escape, head to the movie theater to find an alternate reality where Megan Fox is possessed by a demon and Matt Damon is fat. Jennifer’s Body, a quirky horror flick from Diablo Cody, the writer of Juno, opens this weekend. It stars Megan Fox as a bloodthirsty cheerleader who starts killing off her male classmates. Another new flick worth seeing is The Informant, which stars Matt Damon as a bumbling exec who starts spying on his company for the FBI.

Hit the Streets

To load up on live music and lots of your favorite street food, head over to the Allston Village Street Fair. From noon to 6 p.m., Harvard Avenue from Brighton Avenue to Cambridge Street will be jam-packed with art exhibits, food vendors and street performers. There will also be three stages of live entertainment featuring local bands like Bird Mancini and Three Day Threshold, as well as Irish step dancing and a troupe of belly dancers.

Be A-maize-d

Get in touch with your inner child and take advantage of the great fall weather by exploring one of the area’s corn mazes. For under $10 per person, you can put your sense of direction to the test and see if you can find your way out of an elaborate maze built right into a cornfield. North of the city, try Marini Farm in Ipswich. South of the city, Sauchuk Farm in Plympton has a maze dedicated to 100th anniversary of the Lincoln cent — from above, it looks like a penny!

Culture on the Cheap

It’s time to channel your artistic side because Sunday is the perfect day to visit the Museum of Fine Art. From 10 a.m. to 4:45 p.m., admission to the museum is totally free. So for less than you spend on your morning coffee, you can enjoy exhibits such as Vida y Drama: Modern Mexican Prints and Seeing Songs, a collection of works inspired by music. ReadBoston will also be there holding a book drive, so you can top it all off by doing a good dead and bringing a children’s book to donate.

Poetry in Motion

For something more unusual, stop by the Forsyth Chapel in Forest Hills Cemetery at 2 pm for a reading by The Carpenter Poets of Jamaica Plain. The group of local craftsman discovered a shared love of poetry more than a decade ago and have been meeting for poetry readings ever since. For $5, you can join them to hear their latest works and enjoy the architectural beauty of the 19th century chapel.

Retail Therapy

If shopping is more your type of sport than football, you should check out the Sowa Open Market. Located at 540 Harrison Ave. and open from 10 am to 5 pm this weekend, the market features 120 different vendors. Browsing through the booths, you can find everything from handmade pottery, one-of-a-kind jewelry and the latest creations from local indie fashion designers to fresh flowers, tasty baked goods and produce from area farmers. With free admission and free parking, too, you can’t lose.

The newest addition to the tiny strip of eclectic and chock-full-of-variety eateries on Brighton Avenue in Allston, between Harvard Avenue and Park Vale Avenue, is Fish Market Sushi Bar, the teeny, tiny sushi restaurant boasting more than just great fish.

I was truly blown away with my dining experience. As an avid sushi lover for the majority of my life (I’m a New Yorker and we eat sushi as five-year-olds), I have been on the hunt for quality sushi that can cause instant happiness. After five years of my quest in Boston and surrounding areas, I’ve finally found the Holy Grail of Boston sushi.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love Kayuga and their late night hours (hello, 2 a.m. maki run) and Zen 320′s supremely affordable, everyday half-price menu, but Fish Market has the entire package, and so much more.

When my fellow foodie and Brooklyn-native friend Jennifer and I entered the small locale, we were instantly enthralled by the decor. Clean lines, definitely feng shui bamboo plant placements, and extremely comfortable and well-cushioned lime green IKEA chairs greeted us upon entering. Our server, the only one in the approximately 20-seat restaurant, was enthusiastic and incredibly attentive.

After we ordered on our dry erase menu (brilliant and environmentally friendly!), he greeted us with a Japanese version of an amuse bouche: a baby shrimp tempura salad with the creamiest and perfect amount of dressing.‚ Off to a great start. We anxiously awaited our steamed shrimp shumai and vegetable and shrimp tempura appetizers.

The shumai was amazing with the delicate flavor of fresh sweet shrimp dominant over the light dumpling dough. The tempura was unlike any I have had. The shrimp were long and thin, and one bite superbly informed me I was dining on fresh fish. The vegetables were perfect, with the eggplant and enormous round of sweet potato shining. The appetizers were the perfect size for two, with two shrimp and two each of broccoli, zucchini and eggplant. The giant sweet potato being so large was easily sliced in half using simply our chopsticks (how MacGyver).

Next was the sushi, which came at just the right time. In fact, all the courses were presented directly as we were finishing the previous one. There was no extra waiting and no overlapping of courses which would make for food temperature issues.‚ The sushi was to die for. Phenomenal. I can’t get over it.‚ I digress here.

The breakout star was the rainbow roll, a sushi roll I nearly never order for belief that it is simple and a bit bland. This was no ordinary rainbow roll. The secret was the sweet egg which truly melted in my mouth with each piece of sushi. Topped with fresh salmon, tuna, shrimp, whitefish, and filled with crab, avocado, and cucumber and of course the wondrous sweet egg, this roll is the reason I could eat here every single day. I was so pleasantly surprised to be a convert to the ways of the rainbow roll that I was a bit upset I was sharing it.

The baked spicy scallop roll was delicious. It was served hot, after I saw the sushi chef/owner remove it from what appeared to be a toaster oven behind the sushi bar. It was extremely spicy, and extremely delicious. But beware; it’s not for everyone. I happen to adore scallop in sushi “" meaning it’s raw “" but others find the texture and flavor hard to stomach. If you’re adventurous I would definitely recommend trying it, and if you love scallop, you better try it. Also delicious was the spicy salmon, with the fish buttery and fresh and very flavorful.

As for dessert, we went whole hog and ordered the sesame ice cream, which I had never tried, and mango mochi. The sesame ice cream is definitely an acquired flavor. Most likely, savory food lovers will enjoy it the most as a good way to sneak dessert in. It had a rich roasted and deep flavor, reminiscent of coffee beans. The mango mochi was delicious and refreshing.

Overall, I highly recommend this little find and hope that it makes it through these tough economic times. But with their decent prices, good portions, flavorful sushi and other Japanese offerings, there is no reason they shouldn’t thrive.

Next up, finding quality Chinese food in Boston. Good cold sesame noodles anyone?