blue haired latinas and nickelback? (a throwback)

i think sometimes i just wrote rambling bits to vent and recap for nobody in particular…

…this be one of them

10/01/2002: “everything about my weekend… a bit behind schedule”

yeah, yeah, yeah…i know. where the FUCK has all the whore stuff been. three days of shows and not a lot of sleep and not a lot of time and a cheap ass alarm clock have all worked against you people. but here’s a weekend breakdown, just to let you know what you’ve missed (if you care)…


show: better than ezra / cowboy mouth at stubb’s

who the fuck is that?: mellower version of pseudo alt-rock from new orleans. the type of guy “rock” band that gets played to break up the natalie / alanis / sheryl crow set list of radio stations with predominantly white, female listenership (sorry girls, but statistics don’t lie)

the crowd: see above. VERY visually appealing, for the most part.

lesson learned from the crowd: low jeans and tank tops look SO good on most women…but others? well…

co-worker: chris…keeping up the star tradition of hiring men that barely qualify to ride the rides of the amusement parks we ticket as far as height is concerned…nice guy, though.

m.f. charm hook-up: free bar-b-Q dinner

auto-erotic moment: none

why it sucked: schedule flip-flops and bad email servers and me being out of the office for two straight days equaled me finding out i had to be at stubb’s at 6:00 on friday evening at 5:44 on friday evening. and just when i thought it was safe to go to the gym and have a quiet evening at home…dopey me.

surprise: i actually like a few more better than ezra songs than i thought, and cowboy mouth knows how to work a crowd.

late night quest: one dollar bills. acquired at the yellow rose at 12:30 in the morning. it’s good to have friends in high places at strip clubs…for more than one reason, but never mind that now.
got to bed at: 4:30…loaded up on vicodin.


show: sound tribe sector 9 at la zona rosa

who the fuck is that?: techno music that for some reason hippy kids just LOVE…so you know how i felt about THESE people.

the crowd: see above. widespread flashbacks….please…someone…make the bad man stop. throw a speed stick in the middle of them and watch them scatter like it was a concussion grenade.

lesson learned from the crowd: lack of showering apparently does NOT equal lack of female affection if you can find the right female. think i’ll still stick with the showering…

co-worker: just me, myself, and i…damn i regret skipping that de la soul show.

m.f. charm hook-up: possible side gig with the string cheese incident. don’t ask.

auto-erotic moment: the $64,000 clown car. picture this: a black, loaded, BMW x5 SUV pulls up in front of the club. out of the passenger seat jumps TWO of the newer, daddy-sponsored hippy kids. then the two back doors open and out piles six more. the first out of the passenger side rear pops the back cargo door and out come another twelve. it was like neiman marcus got ass-raped by barnum & bailey. i REALLY need to start drinking on the clock.

why it sucked: the promoter i was dealing with was part of the tribe doing a.c.l. (which i got SCOLDED for not working earlier in the evening) and therefore was doing ALL their shows that night while the rest of the crew was as zilker. i was told to be ready to rock at 1:45…but she wasn’t there, so i had to wait. FINALLY got to bail at damn near 3:00 am. NOT cool.

surprise: i am CONSTANTLY amazed by the professionalism of hippy-band managers. nobody runs a tighter ship then them…it’s almost like the more bohemian the audience, the more professional the people that entertain them. suppose it’s a balancing thing.

late night quest: caffeine for the next morning. ah, rock star…you taste like crap, but work like liquid meth. bless you.

got to bed: 4:30 again…and had to actually get up by 10:00 on sunday. sucks to be me, huh?


show: nickelback at sunken gardens in sa.

who the fuck is that?: you know at LEAST two of their songs if you’ve listened to something on the radio other than tejano and country in the last year…if all else fails, think of that song from spiderman that got TOO much video play and you’re halfway there.

the crowd: the typical sa rock crowd peppered with plenty of hot young women and somewhat scary older ones.

lesson learned from the crowd: the only thing uglier than a bad tattoo is a BIG bad tattoo. add to that it being on an ugly person (or a BIG ugly person and…well…scary to say the least).

co-worker: junior. just doesn’t get more fun than working with junior…even if enough basic mistakes creep in to keep me NOT wondering why i named him that. but hey, at least it wasn’t HIM that made a $15,000 error. THAT would be me. oops.

m.f. charm hook-up: free food, free booze, etc, etc…all standard at a show with bill & megan & me. just its own little family, and i’m one of the bastard stepchildren. wouldn’t have it any other way, either…

auto-erotic moment: okay. for the ladies. let me know. does a de lorean still have any pussy pull? at all? honestly? bet that goes down EXPONENTIALLY when it’s pulled behind and rv, huh? that’s what i saw on the way to sa. what’s the point? you go out, and if you DO get a woman in the de lorean, what type do you get? do you blare jan hammer’s miami vice theme as you drive up like that guy in the wedding singer? got stubble? so did george michael, and he tried to suck cock in public toilets in la…what does THAT say about you? and then the rv as your residence? does it make a man look like he retired early and is seeing the country or more like trailer trash with such a fear of commitment he won’t even get a blockable trailer? i bet the delorean p-factor is nulled by the rv, isn’t it? or has it been gone since ’89?

why it sucked: another day of sweating like a farm animal and swatting gnats of my face like an ethiopian in a sally struthers infomercial. but at least i’m under six feet tall…junior has to cock his neck at a funky angle to stand at the counter and therefore has probably caused himself permanent spinal damage. again. don’t even get him STARTED about the judas priest show.

surprise: i don’t get along with beer, but i REALLY get along with beer girls. oh wait…i guess that’s not that surprising, huh? the ones in sa are a LOT hotter than the ones in austin, though. friendlier, too. like that cute lil’ latina that was in the skyy blue sports bra and shorts with the blue wig? don’t get me started…making me thirsty. along with other cravings. let’s change the subject…

late night quest: food. attained. not NEARLY as much variety in sa as there is in austin for post-eleven dining on a sunday, though…

got to bed: 3:00…wha-hoo!!! earlier than the others. but i also had to get up earlier. all in all, it DOES beat the hell out of having a REAL job, though…

0 comments… add one

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *