Fun fun fun
Monday, October 14, 2002 - 16:27

We saw Brad at the Roxy last night. We got home at about 2. I only got like 4 hours of sleep. That damn Miss Kitty kept waking me up because she was having a poop emergency ALL NIGHT...I left the bedroom door open so that she could get to the bathroom if she needed to, but she's so retarded that instead of just going poop, she ran around yelling about how much she had to go poop. Bastard.

The show was really good. The opening act Happy Chichester was pleasantly awesome. And Brad was great. They all seemed really happy and friendly, smiling at and interacting with the audience the whole night--all except Stone, who seemed a little standoffish. Okay, I just looked up 'standoffish', and it has a more negative meaning than I'd hoped. He just was more interested in interacting with the band than in interacting with the audience. And I don't blame him, since at least half of the people there were only there to see the Pearl Jam guitarist. The guy standing next to Mr. Pooh was staring at Stone and trying to take pictures of Stone through Mr. Pooh the whole time, even though he was kind of on the wrong side of the crowd.

We were right in front of Shawn, the singer. The guitars were over to our right. The band members all switched instruments throughout the night, and Stone got behind the drums for Revolution. I was in the second "row", and Mr. Pooh was behind me, although his "row" sort of got shifted during the concert so he ended up being behind me to the right.

Lately it's become apparent to me that half of the people in the world are insane. Last night this guy pushed his way up to the front right next to me. He looked like C.C. DeVille with dark hair. He was wearing a fedora and his voice sounded a lot like C.C.'s (sorry, I was a rocker in junior high, so of course I had to watch Poison Behind the Music, much to my chagrin). And he was just as crazy and just as stupid. He kept yelling things out to the band members, like "How's your hand?" to one, but then he'd keep on yelling stuff and trying to have a conversation with them, like "Wow, that's amazing that you broke your hand and can still play, ha ha. That's great, ha ha. Does it hurt? Hey, does it hurt? Hey! How did you break your hand? Hey! Hey!" He kept laughing at everything he said. "Hey! Play more songs, ha ha. I like it when you play songs, ha ha. Play lots of songs, ha ha. Hey, come down here with us and have a beer, ha ha."

Then there was this girl who slithered up to the front row right in front of me. She thought she had magic hands--she kept raising them up and moving them around like she was a belly dancer or something. She stole a pick and then used her magic hands to get a few more picks from the band, and then she also convinced a roadie to give her the setlist (printed on a computer, big whoop). She tried to get some handwritten lyrics too, but the roadie wouldn't give them to her. She was mucho annoying.

Then there were these two fat sweaty drunk guys in front of me. They were really into the music, because they were really drunk. I think one of them kept farting.

Then on my left was this tall skinny dork who really wanted to stand in front of me, but his friends were behind us so he couldn't really. Also I wouldn't let him get in front of me. I could tell that he wanted to get in front of us as soon as he took his spot next to us. Bastard. Tall skinny dork.

So I was surrounded by an insane '80s hairband lookalike, an annoying mooching girl with magic hands, two flatulent drunks, and a skinny ambitious dork, with Mr. Pooh bringing up the rear. It was fun.