All right, so we had a clerical error. After I figured out that my assistant didn’t fuck up, I just had my dates crossed, I had her go get tickets for me and some other people that won’t be named. We’ll call them ‘anonymous’. I swear in L.A you never even know what day it is. Every day it’s sunny and you’re surrounded by hot chicks. It’s really not my fault though… it’s impossible to tell one day from another. It’s just chasing tail and swilling beers for cheers right? Anyway, thanks to my friend (who is a walrus trainer), I gots hooked up some tickets for the Kills gig at the Henry Fonda. Two Words: Stage Presence. They just look like they’re up there to rock your fucking world. Hard. I normally delight in other people’s suffering. Like that time I saw that chick fall into the polar bear exhibit at the Zoo. She got eaten of course. It was fucking kick ass. I love that shit. She was naturally selected to not reproduce anymore. So even though it’s against my nature… I feel absolutely horrible for the d-bags who left before they came back out for the encore. I can’t even explain it. Mostly because I never got past the eighth grade and I know like 19 words. Maybe 80. Plus, I’m not not drunk right now. Fall asleep to this, then drop an 11 thousand dollar guitar on stage and walk away.
Kills – “U.R.A Fever (Eron Mezza Remix)”
