I had such a good time at the Doomtree show with Paul and Ashley. The beats were fucking out of control! We stood in line for an hour before getting in. I was cold, so I warmed up with three rapid beers before I started with the jumping around and the throwing of hands in the motherfucking air. I had a concert buzz for the rest of the night — that crazed energy and smile that pushes sweat out of me by the bucketful. I think that it was “Little Kids” by POS that I actually remembered, but I screamed as much as for Har Mar Superstar.
When I got home I cracked open a beer and made the drunk dials that I had promised, but only Melody was around to be bothered by my rambling innuendos. She apparently had a group of ladies over who were debating spitting versus swallowing, and she settled for me once and for all whether or not bus stop woman had been lying to me about the flavor of such a thing. We closed the book on an eleven year mystery. Hooray!