Modest Mouse & A Shit-Load Of Bull.

See, and if I'm not careful, my fucking dog'll sleep all over the sweaty-ass clothes I just ran in, thus making him reek of my unseemly B. Fucking O. Additional baths to the one I give him every two weeks ... this aggression will not stand (OK, so we're on the same bath schedule and we bathe together, so fucking what? DON'T DIMINISH OUR LOVE!)

Hey, would you look at that, the knee fidget is back. Why, we haven't seen this kind of leg-pumping action since ... last night around 12:30 when I downed two carafes of mint fucking flavored iced tea at the Broadway Café. Since when was it OK to only offer tea with mint-flavoring? And since when was it OK to say on your recording that your Temp-Offices open at 7:30, but I call at 7:35 to call in sick for work and no one's there? And since when was it OK to say, "Umm ... no," when I told you I fucking CALLED the backup emergency number you skank ass fucking HOE! You've got a sickly man here! Fucking up all night ... uhh, well, why not go with the theme of the week and say I've been on and around the shitter all night? Yeah, that's the ticket.

Why am I sick, you ask? (HE'S ALL RIGHT) No, it wasn't because I was in a confined space with my friend Melody all night, but good guess though. No, I'm sick because I was at the Showbox (amongst other places) seeing Modest Mouse ... and because I was in a confined space with Melody all night.

So, I guess we can stop trying to get my new nickname to be "Mr. Plans Ahead," sorry guys. That's what I get for going to bed at 5pm on Tuesday and waking up at 3am Wednesday morning. I get to be up for a full 23 and a half hours and miss work and miss my run and just completely douche up the whole works.

My buddy Kon and I decided that I'm a better drummer than that of the opening act, Headphones. I'm telling you, Modest Mouse should've let our band Big Sarah open up for them; we would've rocked the fucking socks off the crowd. Little "Tears In Heaven," little Tenacious D, little Bob Dylan. Woulda been sweet. DIABETIC, fockers. And, the dude in the middle left, he was pretty damn worthless; though with this band, I'd go ahead and do you one better and say that on every song, the worthless member rotated, so each man got to pretty much stand there like a tool for at least one turn. And the lead singer looked like Jim Morrison circa his last days in Paris (full beard, full gut), but did not really SOUND like the Lizard King, I'm afraid. Still, as a whole, the band was OK. The best parts were their sort of keyboard solo parts, where the three keyboardists were all adding their sound into the mix (oh yeah, there were four of them, 1 drummer and 3 keyboardists).

We got to the concert pretty early; we waited in lines pretty long; we waited for bands even longer. My legs are always so fucking sore after concerts. But, all of our efforts were worth it as we got really damn close to the stage ... for Headphones. I was as close as second row for Modest Mouse at around song two, but by song five I was about 30 feet back behind this morbidly obese guy. The girls standing next to me were too afraid to stand too close to him as they thought, if he got knocked over by being on the fringe of the fucking semi-mosh thing going, he'd just break all their little bones in their little bodies. Yes, I was surrounded all night, folks. I had Supercuts Asian girl next to me whipping her frizzy pony tail in my face (and the fortune later, when Modest Mouse finally came on, to have my genitals RIGHT up on her ass for about half a song. I'm talkin' half a pack of Rolaids in my pants here). There were the drunken sorority girls who were so annoying they managed to make it to the very front on obnoxiousness alone (they got theirs though when a pervy old man started grabbing all their asses. NO, it wasn't me! And, you better fucking believe I had my hands in my pockets the entire time after seeing him get exposed and arrested). There was trucker-hat girl with her pony tail sticking out who was entirely too into the Jessica & Kon Punk; and her boyfriend who was ENTIRELY too into Modest Mouse (he probably landed on my feet a half-dozen times from jumping up and down).

OK, so I admit, I'm not a psychotic fan of Modest Mouse. I DO love their music, and I DO have all their albums, but I don't, like, know all the song titles, so I couldn't tell you exactly what they played. They did manage to fit in Caitlin's personal request of "Float On," as well as Trucker Hat Girl's Boyfriend's request of "Dramamine." I remember hearing Satin In A Coffin too. See, I HAVE heard most of the songs they played, but I just don't know the titles. Really, you should've gotten off your asses and gotten tickets if you wanted to know (or been as cool as me and Kon so Caitlin would've given you her extra ones).

By the end of the show, I was on the fringe of the concert, soon after joined by Gretchen who as well was thrust backward by the surging mob of sweaty people in attendance. All ages shows, really.

From the concert, it was off to Broadway Café like I said. I finally made it back here around 1:40am; hung out with my roommate Jake who was playing MLB 2005 while high (17 inning game ending with a Jake win, 1-0); walked the dog and had the epiphany that I should call in sick. Got up this morning at fucking SEVEN AM because I thought that's when my temp offices opened (see, I have to call them, not the actual credit union I work for, because I still technically am an employee of the temp agency and receive all my checks through them). I got the voice message, so I called the emergency number and she DID NOT fucking answer. I called back at 7:35 (which I set my alarm to) and didn't get through to the office again, but DID get through to the emergency number. She seemed really fucking put off when I told her work was supposed to start at 7am; but I don't think this company will care. They like me, plus they know I'm a "hard worker" and have yet to call in sick, even when I really was. I didn't give any reasons yet, but I think I'm just gonna take Jake's sickness of last Sunday and make it my own. On the shitter all night, shitting and puking and not able to eat and not able to drink much but Sprite and completely incapacitated for a good 24 hour period.

Well, it's finally time to eat, and believe you me, I'm gonna fucking eat SOMETHING. Something besides sandwiches and pop corn (which I'm out of as of dinner yesterday)