I’m gonna take your hand and drive you home
Kings of Leon in San Diego tonight. When TBU told me I immediately went to my laptop to buy our tickets. As the site was loading TBU said, “One hundred and seventy four dollars.” I then closed my portal to the interwebs and said, “Well that’s not happening.” One hundred and seventy four dollars for two fucking people to get other people’s sweat on them and strain to see the stage.* I’d have more fun visiting the graveyard from Easy Rider (no seriously, I’m doing that). Are you kidding me, I have the blu-ray, it’s easier to judge them if I can see them. And that’s what I’m doing right now. I’ve watched this blu-ray so many times I feel intimate with the audience.
(*I haven’t purchased arena concert tickets since No Doubt opened for U2 right after 9/11. Boy was that a shit show. Only because U2 bummed the whole mood by projecting the names of the dead onto the audience and it suddenly turned from Orange County happy fun time to serious political concert. And let’s be honest I was there for Gwen, not Bono (or The Edge even though I happily share an article in my name with him).)
At the last minute TBU’s co-worker called and said she had extra tickets for us. We declined and went drinking with people our own age.
I finished my fourth drink of the night as My Party played and TBU offered to get my fifth, at which point I became irate at the ridiculousness of such a suggestion. When you have to fill out health questionnaires at the doctor every year you have to mention (fucking confess!) how many drinks you have a week. It starts at 0-1 but ends with 5+. As though once you have 5 (in a week!) you may as well go the whole cow. And if I have 5 in one night?! That’s like saying I have 35 drinks a week. Holy fuck, that’s a problem. But if I have just four on a Friday night, that’s casual, that’s like, “Hey, look at me, I’m a fucking adult. I have self control.” But seriously five in a week? What am I fourteen? No, I’m a fucking adult. I drink like one.
At the end of the show super hot but horribly yellow teethed lead singer of Kings of Leon reminds everyone to drive safe. Ha! Such a US of American! The concert is in London, a city that knows it’s way around some public transportation. C’mon US let’s be a real country and transport our people like it’s the normal fucking thing to do. Can we not handle the logistics? Can we not stop sucking fossil fuel’s tar ball dick?! Fucking do it already! We should all be able to traverse the country like it’s our right, not a fucking trust fund privilege to be poor and sweaty for a summer. Gah! But in the mean time, drive safe y’all.
Maybe sometime I’ll tell you about the time I drove completely wasted. Ooops, I just did. I am a failure.
The Millionizer’s is always mad and usually drunk
i thought people in the South (and i mean of the US of A as well as of this state, natch) loved drunk driving? i mean, Tennessee whiskey runners is the reason we have NASCAR. although transporting liquor is not necessarily synonymous with drinking the liquor you are transporting as you are transporting it.
insert easy joke about regionally specific anorexia. i am beginning to realize, to my horror, that it also works in reverse (read: regionally specific obesity) and that i might be a regionally specific obese individual in LA. God is getting back at me for saying Caleb didn’t look that skinny, because that is kind of a mean thing to say.
When did you leave this comment? I mean I can look at the date and all but I usually notice these things and respond in a timely manner.
Any way, LA makes everyone feel fat. EVERYONE. That’s the global epicenter* of eating disorders.
*Based only my non-scientific research
And please tell me more about whiskey and NASCAR. I need to know why we have that and why white people love it so much. SO MUCH. Not any white people I know but I live in California and purposely keep to my own kind, and my kind don’t like the nascar too much.