Monday, August 10, 2009

Rock on...

Saturday, one of my good friends from high school and her husband, hooked us up with Crue Fest tickets. While I'm not a hard-rock kinda girl...I am a sucker for concerts. They're something that Jake and I have always done together...and I hope we always will.


When I posted this pic on Facebook, a friend asked me, "Okay, why do you ALWAYS have your tongue out in your pictures? Are you auditioning as Gene Simmons' replacement in KISS?"

To the lady who keeps Poop in her Pocket, I say, "Bite's my concert face!"

At the concert, while Vince Neil belted out, "It's the same old, the same old, situaaaaaaation...It's the same old, same old ball and chaaaaaaaain..."

The dude behind us, sporting a filthy old Troy Aikman jersey, gets down on bended knee and proposes to his sweat drenched, makeup-stain faced, unsuspecting girlfriend. A drunk man with a beer in one hand, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, captures the moment with the bended-knee guys' celly.

Beautiful! "Same old ball and chain," huh?? He waited for THAT song to be played to pop the question??!! Eh...Oh well. To each his own, right?

About an hour later, I mosey to the beer stand for last call, behind me in line is the newly betrothed couple. He stands at the back of one line, she stands at the back of another...already, they are a team, a united front.

I smile, tell them congratulations, and turn back, bracing myself for the $9 I'm about to spend on a fucking beer!!!

Then, from behind me, I hear...


Followed by, "FOURTEEN YEARS MOTHER FUCKER!! FOURTEEN YEARS! I will fuck you up...don't you fuck with me, MOTHER FUCKER!!"

I turn, and to my surprise, it is Cinderella and her prince. They are screaming expletive after expletive at one another, arms flailing, eyes wide...INSANELY PISSED! I don't know what kind of trouble arose in paradise, at the back of the beer line...but, it sounded just atrocious!!

Only one hour later, and the weight of that ring is already causing problems!! I decided the only thing I could do, was offer up a prayer...

Dear, sweet, tiny, baby Jesus...wrapped in your wadded up clothes, laying in the hay, all itchy, but smiling, because you're God's little baby boy...PLEASE hear my prayer.

Please, oh, Lord...strike her womb with an infliction, strike the tails of his sperm, and render them motionless...please dear God, if you do exist...PLEASE prevent them from reproducing more of their kind. And since I am not an evil person, please make this infliction, and motionless-sperm condition reversible, in the event that they get their shit straight, and/or find someone who they love, respect, and cherish to have babies with.

Thank you dear Jesus, that is all...Amen, or whatever.

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