The humming has finally ceased. The ringing in my ears has just begun.
I just woke up after the best concert performance I have ever seen. No band has ever been in the same league as Mindless Self Indulgence. There are hardly words to describe; I suppose I'll start dryly at the beginning.
First there was the two-hour plus drive to St. Petersburg. Philip ditched Lauren and myself for Krispy Kremes in Mike and Shane's car. We got 110 miles just fine before we got lost within a quarter mile of the venue in a maze of one-way streets. We both had to use the bathroom for a combined 80 miles of the trip, and even at Lauren speeds that's a long drive. Eventually we parked, grabbed some food at a convenience store, and met Frank in line. We played a simple but fun game where one names a movie actor or actress, then the person to the left has to name an actor whose first name begins with the same letter that begins the last name of the previous actor like so:
"Sylvester Stallone."
"Shirley Temple." Good one
"Tom Hanks."
"Harold Ramis." Ohhhhh, nice save
"Rory Caulkin." Ah, the kid from Signs, you punk
"Charles Bronson."
"Billy Zane." Hahaha!
"Shit..."
Oh, you can't reuse names, and there's a time limit that decreases whenever someone gets stumped. When you're stumped, you're out. It was fun, even though I got nailed with an 'N' at 45 seconds with the only ones I could think of already used up.
After an indeterminate amount of time, we went inside.
The first band, Dog Fashion Disco, sucked. They were awful. The keyboardist was wearing a diaper, the singer was wearing a bath robe, and the drummer was wearing camo and a stupid look on his face. It's okay that they looked stupid I suppose because there was a projection screen behind them playing gruesome videos of surgery, suicide, sex, and multiple amputees.
The second band, Deadsy, sucked worse. They sounded exactly like Orgy to me, except not nearly as talented, and you can decide for yourself how bad that is because I despise Orgy. This band was worse than Puddle of Mudd. I spent most of the time looking at the floor, because I could hear the suck a little less that way... that and I was falling asleep.
MSI, and this had nothing to do with sitting through two hours of bad bands and a 20-minute CD on repeat, put on the best show I have ever seen. Their stage presence was astounding. Everyone save the drummer leapt into the crowd at least once, and people were fighting to hold up the lead singer Jimmy when he took his dive. Every moment, every movement on the stage was purposeful and effective. The music was precise and masterful.
Even after that intimidating ordeal, the entire band stuck around to sign tickets, CDs, and women. The lead singer was charging a dollar to make out. He kissed a dozen girls, and at least two guys. I kept my dollar, but got the ticket signed. I am seeing them the next time they come to Florida, or the Southeast, or the United States. I suggest you join us.
I had written much more than that inadequate diatribe, but I deleted it. Like I said before, words can not do the performance justice. See them for yourself.
Sigh. I'm otherwise exhausted, having slept only three hours and having eaten no more than two nutri-grain bars and a dozen Pringles yesterday.
I just had an idea. Let's play the actor game. You all know the rules. There's no time limit and no disqualifications, but as a house rule please don't look anyone up on IMDB because that's cheating as far as I'm concerned. No chaining off of yourself either, leave a name and let someone else pick it up. Let's see if we can't get this up to 100 names, which is about what we did outside the show last night. I'm going to feel really dumb when we cap out at 3 responses, but I'll get over it =P. Oh, and no using Billy Zane.
I'll start us off with an easy one...
