It’s been a long week. I’ve paid my dues. We’ve all been looking forward to this night for a long time- a night to just get together, gather in one of the Twin Cities’ hallowed music halls, and blow off some steam, right? I bought a ticket, drove all the way down here, and paid to park just like all the rest of you jack-offs. It’s time to stop acting like you’re all better than me and admit that I have every right to get hammered and ruin everyone else’s night!
I mean, it’s just unfair. How come when I start flailing my arms wildly, suddenly I’m the asshole? Just because I’m not gonna just stand here and nod silently with my arms folded like some kinda cool guy doesn’t make me a monster! Y’all came to see music, right? Yeah, I might have spilled my entire beer on some people. And yeah, maybe that happened six or seven times. Maybe I knocked a woman or two to the ground. Sue me! It’s a concert! Chill out, guys! Haven’t you heard me repeatedly shouting as you try to restrain me physically? Motherf- Okay!
Oh man, I love this song. You know what song I like more though? The one I’m about to shout over and over again every time there’s a lull for the rest of the show. That’s how it works at home, or on my phone, or on the internet, I just say, “Play that other song I like!!” and they do! So obviously they’ll do that here too, because they’re not like, people people. Oh man- he told me to stop! I’m part of this now!! I fucking told you this would work, Debra. No, I DON’T think I’ve had too many. Have you ever chased Fireball with Surly Furious?
Conversational filter? Psh, I left that at home in Burnsville with my bottled water and my handgun and my kids. No, you put your shirt back on. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few ideas about women in politics that I think The Tallest Man on Earth needs to hear.