no, i can’t get you backstage. no, i can’t get you autographs…not from koRn, not from disturbed. no, i can’t get you tickets (unless it’s for you and your wife and we happened to discuss it a couple of weeks ago over a plate of ribs; and you know who you are you big, bald fuck) so now that’s out of the way.
this show is kinda my seasonal retirement. after this, if i have my way, i’m gonna start using some of my vacation time that i’ve earned, set to expire just after christmas, yet i haven’t gotten to utilize. i think i’m gonna use it as four-day weekend material (three day at the least) and spend some time getting the house (finally) in order, getting my life (finally) in order, and doggie-bonding (not meant in a mexican border town bar show kinda way….ick). plus, of course, MORE WHORE STUFF. ’bout damn time, huh?
well, i do hate to cut this short (lately i’ve actually been stooping to writing stuff that’s normal web log length rather than some of my more epic rants…have you noticed?) but i do need to get ready (a process a shaven head really speeds up…and guys, if you HAVE thought about doing it, be ready for every other girl on the planet to pet your skull…you were warned…it’s damn near as effective as carrying a puppy with you everywhere you go, but i digress) and head off to auditorium shores to prep everything for koRn (and hopefully get my “who wants to blow me to be my friend” all access laminate (only kidding…blowing me may get you chipped teeth, but i won’t take you backstage with me…unless you’re…well…you know) but again, i digress)
so, anyway, have a good dia de las muertos (how bad did i mutilate that spelling?) and i’ll see you on the other side of the show…