small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: <strong>me tow mosh pit blues</strong>

Monday, April 19

me tow mosh pit blues

Last week was just flat fuckin odd; it was all about big changes and almost falling under the El Torreon curse again. Wednesday I got word that the Hurricane let Mito go after three years on the job. I knew she was bummin so I took off work early and tracked her to a park where she’d been sitting with her dog every since it happened. As we sat there watching her dog play in the grass she filled me in on everything that went down. It was very heart wrenching for me to sit there and watch her tear herself apart trying to figure what she did wrong. But after a while it was time to dry the tears and swing into action. She had already started making phone calls contacting people she knew in the industry, so we hit a couple of bars in the area to see if they had anything shaking loose. I called a couple of folks I knew to talk too, and later we went by my house to hop on the net. The next day I decided to send a letter to the Hurricane letting em know what I thought about all this and to fill em in on all the work Mito did behind the scenes. Shit like networking bands and people to play or visit the Hurricane, designing posters and flyers and eating the cost of printing out of her tips. You know, all the beyond the call of duty shit that she did on an everyday basis to make things happen. After sending the letter I decided to get on the internet and let muthafucker’s in the industry know what I did and if they knew Mito to follow suit. The Hurricane got quite a few letters in their inbox, but sad to say they fell on deaf ears. And just between all you muthafucker’s and me, that was the most diplomatic piece of wording I’d written in a long time. But Mito let me know Friday that Bender’s; a small rock club in downtown Kansas City has offered to take her up on her services. Cool deal on that, and I was very impressed how the local rock family came together to show support for one of their own. So if you get the chance go see her at Benders at 1118 McGee and show her some love. We both still dig the Hurricane but some of the crap their ownership pulls in the so-called search for “bigger bucks” fucks me up. Friday night we went to Malloy’s Bros for a friend’s birthday party. But after sitting there for a few hours watching a bunch of punker/skinhead types in suits mill about, we decided we were bored and split. Saturday I met up with her at the El Torreon to see a punk show featuring Circle of Trust and the Brass Knuckle Choir. Interesting conversation of the night happened between me, Chris, Lumpy and Brock from Circle of Trust. What’s the most interesting aid we’ve ever used during masturbation? Of course I won, and I plead the fifth cause there’s just some things you muthafuckers don’t need to know. But moving on, during COT’s set some us were gathered in front of the stage. And what happens you mix loud live punk music, old punkers and booze? That’s right baby, you gets a mosh pit. Not a new age tree hugger circle dancing mosh pit, but a mosh pit full of big fatass old school long in the tooth punkers dancing like snow cones eatin retards on the short bus. Not the prettiest sight, but funnier then a muthafucker. And right in the middle of the pit was yours truly. And can I say that I found out very rudely that there’s one more thing I need to add to my “can’t do anymore because of my fucked up heart list” Yeah, after the pit my heart tried to hop the short bus all by itself and I ended up walking outside and doubling over from the pain. Corey followed me outside and tried to get me to let someone take me home. But I assured him that I just need to go somewhere and be real still for a while and I’d be all right. So I dragged myself into my truck and once I got home it was me and the TV until I fell asleep. Must be something about the El Torreon that doesn’t like me. That’s twice I’ve gone there and twice my heart’s tried to kick out on me. The place used to be a Dave Clark Five, Foghat, Credence Clearwater, hippie dancing concert hall back in the sixties and seventy’s. Maybe my ole man beat the shit out of some stoner’s back in the day and their spirits are out to get me. A muthafucker just never knows about that kind of shit. says, "and the monkey flipped the switch"


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