First of all, HAPPY SAINT PATRICK'S DAY to all my Irish fans out there. I have two tickets to see one of my favorite bands, Flogging Molly. They are an Irish folk/punk band and they are playing Chicago on St. Paddy's Day. This is going to be a smoking hot show with alcohol flowing like the Colorado River without the Hoover Dam. Man, I've been waiting 2 months for this show, it's gonna be great. As you can see these are unused tickets. Yes I know they no longer tear the tickets, they scan them but I'm trying to make a fucking point here. Due to my never-ending illness and the drugs that I'm now taking that are suppose to cure me, I feel like a hundred year old invalid. I can't breathe, my glands in my neck are killing me, fluids flow out of all my orifices sometimes simultaneously, my back hurts from sleeping 15 hours a day and I'm still exhausted after being awake for only a few hours. I'm so sick of being sick, I stayed home from this concert. Fuck me, I can't believe it myself. I'm calling myself a pussy just to beat Bill Valentine to it in the comments section. It's 8:30p and I'm going to bed and I feel shame. First I miss a hockey play-off game, now a concert on St. Patrick's Day. I'm sure my Irish grandfather feels ashamed of me from his grave.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
March 17 Another Pathetic Sight
First of all, HAPPY SAINT PATRICK'S DAY to all my Irish fans out there. I have two tickets to see one of my favorite bands, Flogging Molly. They are an Irish folk/punk band and they are playing Chicago on St. Paddy's Day. This is going to be a smoking hot show with alcohol flowing like the Colorado River without the Hoover Dam. Man, I've been waiting 2 months for this show, it's gonna be great. As you can see these are unused tickets. Yes I know they no longer tear the tickets, they scan them but I'm trying to make a fucking point here. Due to my never-ending illness and the drugs that I'm now taking that are suppose to cure me, I feel like a hundred year old invalid. I can't breathe, my glands in my neck are killing me, fluids flow out of all my orifices sometimes simultaneously, my back hurts from sleeping 15 hours a day and I'm still exhausted after being awake for only a few hours. I'm so sick of being sick, I stayed home from this concert. Fuck me, I can't believe it myself. I'm calling myself a pussy just to beat Bill Valentine to it in the comments section. It's 8:30p and I'm going to bed and I feel shame. First I miss a hockey play-off game, now a concert on St. Patrick's Day. I'm sure my Irish grandfather feels ashamed of me from his grave.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment