The Avett Brothers

Enjoy this musical interlude before I rant about something that pisses me off.

Audiences suck

This is where I start: I hate Dallas.
This is where I end: I hate young white people.

Here's how it goes down:
I go to a lot of live music and comedy shows (mostly music). That's what I like to do with my money and spare time. But I feel like I'm one of maybe 10 people in DFW who knows how to shut the hell up during a performance.

Dallas people like to be noticed, but they don't like to accomplish anything of value or contribute anything to society. They just like to disrupt performers and ruin everyone's good time. They seem to think that if a guy on stage addresses them for being dicks, they've made a positive impression on that person. Or they'll be taken on tour. Or someone in the audience will cream their jeans and want to fuck them.

I've seen shows in many venues in many cities, but I've never been so embarrassed and uncomfortable as I get in Dallas. And worse, the asshole revolution is apparently taking over Austin. My friend recently reported that "motherfuckers wouldn't shut their suckholes" at a Bon Iver show. Austin was the only oasis in this godforsaken cultural desert of a state, but if it's a lost cause too, I need to move. Or cave in and join a militia if only for the pleasure of shooting people in the face.

But it's not necessarily a Dallas or Texas thing. Could it be generational? I attended Leonard Cohen and Elvis Costello shows over the summer and was ultrapleasantly surprised at the respect given to those two gentlemen. Maybe it's just my generation and younger whose heads are skull-shaped bags of douche. Except I saw Chris Rock last year with a decidedly younger and certainly more mixed-race crowd than the average rock act attracts, and the "I love you, Chris" comments were kept to a minimum. What gives?

So do I have to conclude that it's young white twentysomethings that are the scourge of the performing arts? That hardly sounds fair or provable. But FUCK YES. Fuck those kids in their loud mouths.

With apologies to David Cross for the reprehensible audience he had to endure. Especially that whore Donna Jo.

Swallowed when I should have spat

Until I think of something worthwhile to write about (actually, I did think of something on the way home from work yesterday, but I promptly forgot it upon arriving home and finding a fresh 1970 episode of Hee Haw waiting on the DVR), I'm just going to list the things I accidentally ingested today.

A bug

Gasoline while siphoning fuel from the neighbor's car

A small piece of my own tongue flesh

Fruit

The remnants of my pride

Last night's leftovers (what am I, a hobo?)

Reasons I Haven't Been Writing This Blog Lately

I've been playing defense for the Texas Longhorns.

I visited the dog every day she was in canine rehab for dogsmack.

All the cool kids are using WordPress instead of Google Blogger.

I'm building a decoy dog from my dog's shed hair.

I'm building a bridge to a better tomorrow. Out of dog hair.

Laziness begets sleeptitude.

I spend a lot of my spare time wishing I had more spare time to make wishes for more spare time.

My bosses at In This Economy? are slave drivers/owners.

I went to culinary school to learn to cook meth.

The hookworms have made me... sooo... sloooooowww.