I really, really wish I could tell you how amazing the Lemonheads show was last night, how Vietnam was cool, how Reeve Oliver were great. But because of a series of fucked up bullshit things happening throughout the day yesterday and "friends" being completely on their own planets, Miggs and I listened to the Lemonheads songs 2-4 on the steps in the back of the Belly Up. (Alison's Starting to Happen being one of them) Then we walked to the front where our friends lamely attempted to see if we were on the list (we were not) and they bailed. It wasn't that I didn't have the money, it was the principle of the whole thing, that people told me for a week that everything would be cool, that we had no problem, that Evan would take care of it all and thus I didn't buy a ticket, that I would've just left my house at 8:30 when the Chargers game ended instead of getting picked up at 9:30 and having to slug to fucking HIllcrest to pick up pizza for the princesses when we could've just gone straight there, found our contact and been in...
Instead Miggs and I spent some quality time getting shit.faced. at Surf and Saddle. Well, at least I did when some guy named Lou started buying us drinks and the bartender kept telling him I was drinking double tall vodka tonics. I mean, if you take a day off of work because you're expecting a hell of a night, you really have to follow through. Even if that means Evan had nothing to do with it.
Andrea is going to give you her opinion about the show in a little bit as a guest blogger, so it's not a total loss for you, but I'm gonna be a little bitter about missing it for a while. Because I can.
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