After all these years my crush/true love Jonathan Knight still has the right stuff. No really, just look at his sexy dance moves. Hubba hubba. To read abut the actual concert you’ll have to wait until Thursday when my column comes out. But in other crush news, I have one, and it’s good.
Remember the Metallica birthday tickets? Yeah, the concert rocked… LOUDLY! Read about it in this week’s “That’s What She Said.”
Last night, just as I was walking up the last flight of stairs for my math class, I received a test message from Summer asking if I wanted to play hooky and go the the Jason Mraz concert with her.
I should add that Summer, too, was supposed to be in math class. I should also add that I don’t even listen to Mraz. I only know who he is because one of his song titles has the word pink in it. See, random Google searches for containing the words “pink” and “song” are beneficial!
When she mentioned the tickets were in a suite that would likely be catered I turned around and walked back to my car, leaving my education behind. FOR MUSIC I DON’T EVEN LIKE! No wonder I’m still working on my bachelor’s degree at 32.
When I fail college algebra I only have myself to blame. Well, and Kelli, because she wouldn’t fly out here twice a week and take the damn class for me. What a bitch that girl is.
The best part of the night was not the concert—we left after two songs—but seeing this on the door of the E-Center:
(Insert high pitch squeals here.)
Last night at the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah concert someone Rlo knew walked by. He, of course, didn’t introduce me.
He pretends he’s protecting me from his Mormon friends and their wild heathen activities such as praying, and talking reverently about Jesus or kittens. However, I know the truth: he’s protecting them from me and my need to use the word fuck at least 3,000 times a day.
“Was that one of your Mormons or school friends?”
“She’s a Mormon friend, and a nurse.”
“Another one? How many naughty nurse friends do you have?”
“Let’s just say I’m covered in the sponge bath department.”
“Ohhh, if I ever get too lazy to shower can I borrow them?”
Rlo looked at me in disgust and said, “No, Sarah, I’ll hire that out. It’s worth the money.”
I see absolutely no reason why Rlo should be embarrassed of my extreme laziness. If anything he should be pleased, especially now during the Olympics. Where’s his sense of competitive pride? I’d fire him, but he’s irreplaceable.
Last Thursday RLO and I went to the Twilight Concert Series. Thankfully, the last couple of concerts have been much better than the overcrowded first one.
Since Thursday night is kickball night I haven’t been able to see many of my friends there. Silly Hannah and Chelsea for picking kickball madness over drunken debauchery in a public venue. I love my girls, but obviously they are insane. I’ll have to change their minds over cupcakes soon.
Five minutes into the set RLO and I decided Nada Surf is the love child of Modest Mouse and Primus with a mad case of fetal alcohol syndrome. Maybe it’s being old, or maybe it’s missing my girlfriends, whatever the case I needed some nourishment that didn’t come in the form of fermented grapes in a plastic cup, so we left before seeing the next band in lieu of dinner at Red Rock.
Next week, however, I’m staying the entire night even if I have to take a cot and nap between set!
**Edit**
Thanks to RockandCookies and Theorris for pointing out that we did not in fact see Nada Surf, but the opening band. I already forgot the name and I just barely read the comments, because I’m too busy feeling bad I didn’t see Little Bit again. Didn’t think it sounded right but went ahead and believed the website to be correct. Gallivan FAILS!
