It's Cold Gin time again...

Ok ok, it's not really time for gin, cold or otherwise, because I'm having a crisis of sorts.

Ok. Perhaps not a crisis, per se.

Every once and a while, on the way to work, I look down at myself and just think "FUCK!"

Don't get me wrong, I love my job, it suits me pretty well. The thing is, it's a job, and it's not rock n roll.

These moments of panic about how not cool I am usually come the week after a really awesome show, in this case, the M3 festival.

When I came back to work and mentioned where I had been to someone, I realized how little my coworkers know about the rock n roll Jugs. You know like in that movie "the Rocker" where the dude is at work, and all his coworkers talk about his old band without even knowing? And he's stuck being tech support when all he wants to do is rock? I feel like that sometimes.

It is probably a good thing that I was never in a band, and that my coworkers know so little about that part of my life; but it freaks me out that there are at least two of me: one is responsible and loves her job and tries to be presentable; the other just wants to wake up amid empty bottles of gin at the back of a tour bus and wonder where her panties went.

I take that back, I probably would know where they went, but just be unable to find them.

Isn't that a fucking sweet Iron Maiden picture? I googled tour bus, and there it was. I love it!!

I had a discussion with a coworker yesterday (see? my work is moderately cool) about how far we'd drive for a show. Less than 5 years ago, I'd drive overnight to Florida at the drop of a hat, just to see a band I love play. No worries, I just got in the car and went.

Last night, I was too concerned about getting up for work this morning and affording the gas to put in my car to drive a little over an hour to a honky tonk show.

What happened to me?

I'm still rock n roll. I would still drive all night to hear a guitar play....if I could afford it.

I'm more concerned about my career and owning a house when I'm old, and I have responsibilities now and bills to pay.

Growing up sucks. Little 5 year old Jugs, or even 10 year old Jugs, back when she was scrawling band names in Sharpie on her Guess jeans and hanging up KISS Army posters on her ceiling, needs to come to the future and bitch slap me.

She'd tell me that I need to grow up and be like Lita Ford...

Too bad I can't play the guitar!

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M3 Festival...3 times the....

So. We went to the M3 festival to see Twisted Sister, Ratt, Dokken, etc.


There were some pretty intense highs and lows, and to be honest I don't know where to start.


Oh. I take that back. I know where to start! At the beginning!!!

Saturday we got up at the butt crack of dawn and drove to Columbia, Md. It is a nice, easy trip so yeah. No surprises there. Got to the venue, and couldn't find the damn entrance. Is it that hard to put up signs that say "heavy metal parking lot ---> this way"?!?! NO! It's fucking NOT that hard!



I'd LIKE to say that the parking lot was like a scene from heavy metal parking lot, but aside from me and the old man, it wasn't. Now if I may be bitchy for a moment; why do fat chicks insist on wearing tube tops? I mean, i feel a bit wobbly in a tube top, how in the sam hell do they not realize that their bits and pieces are falling all over the place? GROSS!


And extreme side note here, on the way home we see this fat chick wearing one of those terry cloth rompers. Now, let me admit something about myself:
One day, the ladies with whom I lunch and I went and had a few too many margaritas at Chilis. And I decided that purchasing a white terry cloth romper would be perhaps the most hysterical thing on the face of the planet. At the time, it was an extremely fantastic idea that I wanted to show my old man that I too remembered the 70s (despite not having been born yet). I was kind of fat at that point in my life, and that romper was not flattering. It's not flattering today and I'm much thinner. It IS funny; and I may break it out for a costume occasion or as an ironic clothing choice on the beach...but I will not wear it seriously. And I wear daisy dukes seriously. So yeah. Fat girls: terry cloth jumpers and tube tops are a NO NO!


Ok. Back on track. Back for more.... here we go!


We were at least allowed to tailgate in the parking lot, so we had some beers and saw some old friends, and that was just really awesome.


Next up, getting into the damn venue! They sent the old man back because of his (actually my) bullet belt. I mean, if you had realized that it took him 30 minutes to get the damn thing on right...you might realize he's not going to take it off, whip it around his head, and damage the 30 plus weirdo goth kids that were there. Seriously people, it's an 80s metal show, not goth hour at the local dance club.

Did you security fuckers think to search my boots? Did you? No. I could hide at least a very small gun in my cleavage somewhere, but you didn't look there either. Well good to know I can sneak in all kinds of stuff, but the old man can't do shit. Good to know!


When we finally went in I went and peed, because I really had to pee. I have to pee a lot. It's a trend. It's tough to be this rad and not pee your pants. For real.


I'm not sure who we saw first. Maybe XYZ. See? This really isn't a music blog. I have no photos because I forget my camera every damn time. And I don't remember setlists and important factors like who played. In fact, neither does the old man as he told someone today that we saw Quiet Riot. Interesting, given the fact that poor old Kevin DuBrow is dead. Yep. But we saw them.


NOT!



The set up was ok, but going back and forth between two stages was kind of lame.


Now, let me cover the bad parts of this event before I get to the awesomeness:


At some point during this whole hoo-ha, I got kind of sad. Because, well, there were lots of really lame people there. I mean, it's an 80s metal show. Dude, put the fucking flippity flops and your fucking khaki bermuda shorts the FUCK AWAY. Put them away. I came here to rock!!! Tommy Bahama did not come to FUCKIN ROCK!!! Seriously. Go home.


Secondly, I understand that like KIX are hometown heroes. I get that. I like some Kix songs quite a bit. In fact, I was excited to see them. Now, let me say before I go on, that my old man is skinny. Like really skinny: chickens have more fat on their legs kind of skinny. But Kix takes skinny to a whole new level. If you put a skeleton in some spandex pants and a vest or sort of hippy flowy shirt thingy...you'd have Kix.


Ok. Look. Everyone gets old and dies, but I really started to feel like I was in some kind of bizarre old people death skeletor world. I really did. I got depressed. I don't want to get old. I wouldn't mind being super skinny, but whew. Yeah. And the lead singer from Kix apparently thinks he is Mick Jagger. Except he looks older and scrawnier than Mick, and that's not saying much for him. Finally, I could have handled Kix, if what came on after Kix wasn't so awful.


Thirdly in my list of shitty stuff from M3...and I think there might only be 3 things...what the fuck is up with you fucking faggots loving Extreme? I mean, are you kidding me? We went down front so that we could be up front for Ratt, and I had to stand elbows to assholes with some really big ass weirdos singing that lame ass Extreme song.

And here is another thing: If you get the fuck up the morning of a huge rock festival and put some lame ass white t-shirt with some lame ass professional wrestling phrase on the back, and you wear your white baseball hat backwards, and you keep making this stupid face and sticking your tongue out....you need to go the fuck away. For real. You suck dude. You really, really, really suck. You got that stoked for fucking Extreme? God. Shoot me now!!!!!!!!!!!! At least, that's what i was thinking while they were playing. As my old man says, it's because people in Baltimore are just too close to Yankees. They were just way too stoked on Extreme. It wasn't good. Dumb Yankees! I tell you what is more than words: how gay you are when you sing that lame song!


Admittedly, the guitarist is kind of hot. I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers, or whatever the hell that phrase is, but I'd probably want to punch him in the nuts just for being in the band.


Ok. Rant over. Good stuff coming right now!!!!!!


Let's see, who did we see besides the imaginary Quiet Riot?


L.A. Guns...we saw the Phil Lewis (otherwise known as the Jugs' favorite) version. I love L.A. Guns. They are sleazy. They rock. I wish they'd reunite. Phil Lewis looked bad though. I mean, Steve Riley looked like a teenager compared to him. That says something. You know?


Bulletboys...ah yes. Marq Torien has got to be gay. Well. That's ok I suppose. I do enjoy the Bullet Boys, but it's hard to deal with them when you know that Marq Torien would rather get Smooth Up in the dude standing next to you.


Slaughter. They were good. I like Slaughter. Is that because I was kind of fat once?


So this is seriously cheesy, but I was so incredibly stoked on this factor that I wish I had taken a picture. I usually hate 80s metal fans that are my age. I think they are mocking it a little too much. In fact, I missed Steel Panther during this show because I haven't made up my mind whether I love them or hate them. I mean, you have to laugh at 80s metal, but don't be a total douche about it.


Anyway...during XYZ or maybe the bullet boys, I saw this dude who must have been my age. Or maybe younger, but I don't want to think about that.
He was wearing a leather jacket in 80 degree weather, had long ass hair, and these ripped up jeans. But on the jeans, he'd written band names...like Britny Fox.
I did that when I was a little kid!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh my gosh!!!!!!!!!!!
For real, if I didn't have an old man, I'd have totally bought this dude a beer.
So, cool rock n roll guy who is way young: you are fucking awesome and you made my day!!
So that was cool. It is good to know that there is hope for the future.


Ok. The coolest part of the night was Ratt. I'm not gonna lie. I mean, I loved everything else, but I really really love Ratt. The sound sucked, and only half the band was there, but Ratt is cool.

Ratt is cool because Stephen Pearcy has a top fuel dragster. Ratt is cool because Stephen Pearcy is just fucking cool. I hope he's a big asshole. I've never met him, but I like to imagine him as a big, drunk jerk who wouldn't like me at all. Because that's how I like my dudes. With race cars. Drinking beer. And being a jerk.

Not really on the jerk part.

Well.

Maybe not really.

Well.

Probably.

I'm so off topic. God.

Twisted Sister. They were awesome. I don't have adjectives. I have two words: fuck and awesome.

That's TS.

And some nice lady gave me her spot up front. So I was front row center for all that jazz. Twisted Sister got to see the jugs.

Thanks dudes. You make it all worthwhile. You will always be my favorite show, because you rock. I mean, i just can't describe it adequately. It's like all my childhood dreams came true. Although, i wish they'd sing Leader of the Pack.

I'm gay like that.

On another side note, it was funny watching groupies on Saturday. When I first started going to shows like ummm, 10 years ago (fuck, getting seriously old here!!!), groupies were always these nasty porno looking chicks. Not good porn either. The lame stuff made in someone's basement. We all know about those chicks, they don't really look metal, they have dumb outfits on and stuff, and bad lip-liner. In easy to describe terms, they looked like some of the really bad looking chicks from Rock of Love.

I saw some cool chicks this time. Maybe they weren't groupies? Maybe they were the dude's daughters? Stephen Pearcy said something about how maybe he had kids out there that he didn't know about. He could be my dad. I wish he was my dad. For real.

Please adopt me Stephen Pearcy! I'm 25 and I have a job, and I will be pit crew on your race team. I could use that experience! I'd be a really cool daughter, I swear.

Oh shit. I got off track again. Well, anyway, kudos to the hot chicks that are my age. Way to go ladies! I wish I was up there with you! But i have a pretty rockin old man.

At least the girl in the gas station we stopped in thought he was in a band.

So yay! M3 was probably one of my few metal shows this summer! Not much going on because I'm broke and I suck! But I promise you, if anything cool happens, I'll be sure to post about it right here!

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M3 Festival...3 times the....

Three times the content that I need to write! Gosh! 

Full review coming soon!!!

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I wanna ROCK!

Here's the thing, and I'm saying this with just a small amount of shame and embarrassment. I was never much of a Twisted Sister fan. I've never been totally blown away by any of their albums. There are songs I like, there are music videos that are just iconic, but I've never rushed out to buy a Twisted Sister album. Hell, I don't even own one! Still! Which you'll find shocking if you totally hate me and stop reading now.

A few years ago (ok more than a few) I was asked if I wanted to go and possibly see Twisted Sister. This was way back when they had reunited (even though that wasn't supposed to happen) and they were playing without the makeup and insanity as a band called Bent Brother. I figured, what the heck!

The thing is, when I grew up, I NEVER expected to see 99% of the bands I have seen. I figured they'd all be too old, retired, or dead. The possibility that I might grow up and see my icons seemed totally impossible. Luckily, for me (maybe), in the late 90s Poison reunited and we saw the development of these summer "shed" tours in which little old Jugs got to see nearly every band she ever dreamed of seeing. It was my childhood dream come true. And I'm not joking. I cried when I saw KISS. I really did. Ask my sister.

That's me when I was little by the way! I don't know how Ronnie James Dio knew it, but he did.

Anyhow, 5 or 6 or 7 years ago, my friend Sean (http://themetalfiles.wordpress.com/) and I drove up to Richmond to go and see Bent Brother. Or maybe Twisted Sister if we were lucky. We saw them in, literally, a shed. Because if you've ever been to the Innsbrook Pavilion, it's like someone's back deck with a car port on top.

I was blown away, almost literally because of the insane thunderstorm that blew through midway through the show. But there was Twisted Sister, in their crazed, tranny glory. Full makeup, full costumes, full on rocking the fuck out. I walked away that night, completely soaked and exhausted but so incredibly stoked. That was fuckin rock n roll!!!! That was the kind of thing that pissed off fathers, and teachers, and preachers, and everyone else! To witness it was just incredible. To stand 3 feet from Twisted Sister was incredible. To eat at Waffle House afterwards with a bunch of hookers with 3 teeth was also incredible.

A few years later, my old man and I went to Rocklahoma (you know, the first one, where it was actually good). Twisted Sister headlined, and I thought once again "eh." You know, I enjoyed it the first time, I was amped to see them again....but not as amped as I was to see Dokken, Great White, Slaughter, or the Faster Pussycat trainwreck. Seriously, Dee Snider needs to come to Virginia and bitchslap me for being so stupid. Once again, they blew me away. Half way through their set, they cut the lights, and lit up their amps with trailer park style Christmas lights...and in the middle of July, in some Oklahoma field, it began to SNOW!!!!!! And there was Dee Snider in a Santa hat throwing out candy canes and singing Silver Bells. And there were thousands and thousands of people just like me (ok, definitely NOT just like me) all cheering and screaming and clapping and going insane. That's my favorite part of a show by the way, to see just a few dudes on a stage make thousands of people go absolutely bonkers. If I didn't hate chick bands so much, I'd want to be a rockstar! The exceptions are of course, Nashville Pussy (take a drink!), Vixen, Betty Blowtorch, and Lita Ford. Seriously, chicks in bands annoy me. Go figure.

It was one of those occasions where I rocked out so hard, i probably fell over. I was tired, exhausted from the heat, and three days of rock n roll excess....and that band was so balls to the wall it was just incredible.

Twisted fuckin Sister!

Anyway, we're seeing them again this summer, at the M3 festival in Columbia, MD! And once again, I'm more excited to see Ratt and Kix. But the thing about Twisted Sister, I know that I won't walk away disappointed. I know I won't walk away saying "eh" i've seen them all before. I know that I'll spend 10 hours in the heat rockin out, and I will STILL rock out harder than I ever have before once they hit the stage.

So thanks Dee Snider, you make REALLY crappy horror movies, but I love you. I always wanted to you to come to my house when I was a kid, and I would tell my dad "I WANT TO ROCK" and then he'd fly out a window. That would be awesome! I'm 25 now, but you can still come to my house and we could make it happen!

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Death Metal!

Ok, ok, this post isn't about death metal. I know fuck all about death metal. But that is ok.

Actually, this is about my new Nashville Pussy CD. I am a HUGE Nashville Pussy fan. I think they are great; and they have such a naughty name it's just funny to say. A good friend of mine calls them "you know, that Redneck Vagina band" and another friend just asks me if I went to see "Nashville P-word" last night. 

So, you must be thinking, why in the sam hell is this post titled "Death Metal" and this dumb bitch is talking to me about Nashville Pussy? (Although someone should invent a drinking game where every time I write or say Nashville Pussy, someone takes a drink). 

No, this post is about the death of the CD.

I remember, long ago, in a galaxy far away, when I rode a school bus one afternoon....some kid told me about how awesome CDs were. I was firmly stuck in the land of all things cassette due to the face I'd inherited my sister's Walkman (a product banned in my family and very surreptitiously purchased by my sister and mum one day when I was about five) and her entire collection of KISS tapes. To be fair, I didn't really inherit them as much as steal them when she went away to college. I also discovered all her Metal Edges and Hit Paraders, thus taking me down this terrible road of rock n roll. (My mum rues the day I found those magazines).

I loved tapes. I loved the little beeps at the end of each side, and how if the tape machine ate the tapes, you could rewind it with a pencil. I loved unfolding the insert inside a tape and reading all the song lyrics and looking at the teeny tiny little pictures (usually of Bret Michaels' abs). 

I still love tapes, and if anyone has a tape to tape player where you can make copies, please let me know...I need to borrow it.

Ah yes, I digress again.

I went very grudgingly into the world of CDs. They seemed big and ugly and you could damage or scratch them way too easily. And of course, my first CDs were some highly embarrassing purchases. Look, when every other little kid in your class liked Alanis Morrisette, Coolio, and the Grateful Dead you were just kind of stuck with world's shittiest music collection. 

When I grew up, and moved to the big city (haha), I discovered record stores. I never really have done the record thing, although I do own a small, nice selection of Ratt, Kiss, and Tammy Wynette albums. But I fell in love with record stores. There I could browse through all kinds of obscure CDs, and I could learn about music I had no chance of hearing while imprisoned in the podunk town where I grew up. 

These days, lots of record stores are going out of business. It's a sad thing. Apparently, everyone is too wrapped up in purchasing music off the darn computer. I know it's a silly thing to say while typing on one of these infernal machines, but I'm something of a Luddite. I HATE technology. My entire job and life seems to be centered around this darn thing!! Oh god, I've digressed again...

ANYWAY, I just got the new Nashville Pussy CD, and it has something that fucking iTunes doesn't. (not that I hate iTunes, i'm very guilty of having a bottle of wine and buying too many dwight yoakam cds. seriously. i did that last week). My lovely new CD just has character. It has album art. It has lyrics. It has the little section where they thank billy bob and susie ann and bullfrog their bus driver. It's been one of my life's aspirations to be thanked in the CD booklet.

This is why the death of CDs really upsets me. How is anyone EVER going to know that I was thanked by some awesome band if they get rid of CDs? What a bummer. 

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Another one from the Archives..

This was from a Poison show last summer...ah yes. Last summer. That was a good time!

This was what came first when I got home:

20 year old little girls at poison concerts. really? fucking really?
i've been listening to that shit since i was 4 years old. 
just because you saw bret on rock of love does not the poison fan make.
fuck you 20 year old bimbos in your peach colored shirts you bought at the Deb, you deserved to get your ass kicked tonight.
i'm all for the boys getting better pussy, but yours is best kept for frat parties and bad girls gone wild videos.

seriously.

full recap coming tomorrow, featuring my thoughts on hating 99.99999% of the female population.

And the full recap:

Ok, I wanted to clarify my blog from last night (although not much clarification is really needed) and add a few things.
First of all, I suppose some of you might think that I'm jealous of those 20 year olds, and wish I was in their place. Truth be told, I've been THAT girl before to many a person I'm sure. I started going to see Poison 7 years ago, when I wasn't even legal to do ANYTHING but drive a car. But the thing is, it's just different now. When I woke up this morning I was reminded of some scene at the end of Almost Famous when one of the girls says (and this is not like a direct quote so don't hold me to it):
"Can you believe these new girls? None of them use birth control and they eat all the steak! 
They don't even know what it is to be a fan. Y'know? To truly love some silly little piece of music, or some band, so much that it hurts."

It made me think of those girls last night and it made me smile. You know, most of my more musically literate friends joke me for being a Poison fan. I don't blame them. I've never claimed that Poison were especially talented musically or made music that had some enormous impact on life. But Poison always does their job, and they do it well. It's what they represent in my mind that makes them so special to me. Simply, they represent everything that is a good fuckin rock n roll show. Their lyrics may not feed starving children in Africa, nor would I want them to. They want to get drunk and get laid and have a good time doing it. And I think that's awesome. But they've also made me who I am today, and I know that is sort of odd and bizarre, but what the fuck ever. I will say here, that I have never slept with anyone in that band. And I'm glad I haven't. I'm not there to always get laid (although it used to be that way), I'm there to get drunk and have a good time and be fuckin glammed out and metal and whatever else. I'm not doing well with this whole aging thing, I'm about to turn 25, and I'm glad I am who I am today, i wouldn't give that back for a million bucks or be where I was when I was 20. But i sure wouldn't mind not getting older! I just realized last night seeing those girls, that I really don't think I'll ever do the groupie thing again, but at least when I was that girl, I was fucking cool. I never pancaked on some gross looking makeup, wore some shitty pastel outfit, and flipped out over bret michaels walking towards me onstage. I will rock the fuck out, but I will not look like a 13 year old boy band fan. 

I know their music is for everyone, but last night just made me sad.

Number 1. There was no Dokken. So I was sad. I was also sad dealing with a very grumpy old man who came solely to see Dokken.

Number 2. Nothing but 20 year old girls, fat soccer moms, and dudes in button down shirts and shit. Seeing the crowd evolve over the past 7 years has been interesting, and I'm not denying that they've always attracted that sort of person....but it just sucks. I guess that's my fault for never wanting to be a Testament groupie or something! 

On the whole, I had a good time. We hung out with some friends who are absolutely awesome...I wish they lived closer. We drank some beer. I peed outside with some dudes, and I saw a band I love. But times sure are changing, and I'm just sad about the state of metal.
It was the same way when I saw Judas Priest....you know I have friends that are metal, and they were stuck in the fucking back rockin out, while I had to tower over some fat fucks in sneakers that had enough cash to buy the fancy seats but who couldn't be assed to stand up and rock out to Motorhead and Testament. 
When we came home, we watched Heavy Metal Parking Lot, and all I can say, is once again, I was born in the wrong decade.

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Y&T...young and tough, or old and seriously annoying?

Last night we ventured out in our shit hole town, (or towns, or whatever you want to call this place) to see Y&T. Our last venture out around here was to see the Bullet Boys. If I have a review somewhere, I'll dig it up and post it. All you need to know is that 8 people saw the Bullet Boys, most of which were weird creepy dudes in blazers.

I feel a really big drive to go out and support any somewhat 80s metal band that comes to play around here, because I know how much this area sucks, and how few shows we get. So, I'm not really sure why I expect MORE from people, and always leave disappointed.

A big part of the show to me is the crowd. I enjoy people watching and the experience of rocking out with anywhere from 5 to 50,000 people to music you all love is pretty awesome. Before I go on my tirade, let me say that Y&T did not suck totally and that I'm really not a huge Y&T fan...just so ya know.

It's just that they have like 20 billion years of music, and they play a lot of it. I mean, when you go see the Crue, you don't expect them to play something from Generation Swine. You want to hear stuff from Too Fast for Love and Shout at the Devil, and then not remember how you got home and pass out in a pile of your own vomit.

Unfortunately, Y&T plays to all fans, and that left old Jugs sitting on a bar stool rather bored by the end of the night.

I might have been a bit more amped if it wasn't for the fans...

They broke all my cardinal rules of going to rock shows: band tshirts of the same god damn band, fat obnoxious douches bullying their way up front, and those men who dragged their wives along in their hideous mom jeans. 

Here were some highlights from people watching that I'd like to discuss.

1. Since when is it OK to make your 13 year old son extremely fat, let him grow out his hair (because you never could) but so that it's a shaggy-emo-mess, and then stick some kind of sassy fedora with skulls on his head? And then you drag him to a Y&T show? COME ON!!!!! First of all, there were MULTIPLE versions of this last night, not just one, which was shocking. Make your god damn kid go outside and get some exercise and stop feeding him chicken nuggets!! I'm sure he's going to be super cool when at 25 he has a heart condition and sweats more than a pig stuck in hot mud!! I'm not sure what is going on these days, but attention 13 year old girls....fat kids with fedoras are not hot! Trust me, no one likes some heavy breathing fat kid trying to get in your pants. I went on that date later in life, and it was NOT pretty. (I didn't date a 13 year old later in life, just so we're clear here...just pointing out that I've seen what happens 10 years down the road). Seriously, your kid looks like a total twat.

2. You aren't a rock fan. But your husband is. He says "honey, let's go see Y&T tonight." Here's a clue: stay the fuck at home. No one wants to see you wearing his jacket standing lamely beside him in your kitten heels and gold jewelry. You look MISERABLE. Of course, i looked miserable too, but we're not judging me right now! OR, the second of these two lovely choices, your husband is a fat drunk, and you won't stand up to him. So when you tell him to stop drinking, he tells you to fuck off, and you end up standing in the back...but not before you ruin everyone's night with your hunched shoulders and your sad eyes. You married him! Your choice! Kick him in the fucking nuts already!!! My old man pulls this shit sometimes, but I have learned how to deal with it in less than 3 years. You two look like you've been married for at least 15, and you're still tolerating that? Come on! 

3. You are a HUGE Y&T Fan. You're in the fan club. You wore their shirt to the show. You might have glasses, or wear giant sneakers, or just look like a douche. Heads up, i think you might be gay. Men in fan clubs...it's not cool. 

4. The rock hands. The bane of my existence. I'm ALL for some fist pumping, hand clapping, throwing up the devil horns when the music is just that kick ass. However, there is a difference between the devil horns, and the "I love you" hand sign. Not the same thing. So hey dude, out there in the crowd, thinking you are SOOO rockin out right now. You're not. You just told some 60 year old in spandex that you love him. Way to go. You're SUCH a bad ass. 

I've seen these types in other areas, don't get me wrong, it's not just here. But there is something about this area that just brings out the uncool assholes. I've never been shoved around, or bumped into, or stared down as much as I have last night. And I've been to probably hundreds of crowded, drunken, insane shows. I've been kicked in the face, I've had chicks try to start fights, you name it...I've seen it. But last night was special. It was this kind of middle-aged misery that you just can't find anywhere else. So thanks Y&T. The whole night was like a Spinal tap parody, and not in that train-wreck good time that I enjoy. 

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