Warning: this post contains racial stereotypes

So, as I was saying, I woke up with a sense of accomplishment from having avoided a hangover. This is the only taste of triumph I ever get. I could feel like utter crap, but instead I only have a mild headache and can't move my head quickly, I win! Mike R. Mike called and reminded me that we had made plans to go to Woodland when I was leaving G-Bomb's party. I pretended to remember that. I hadn't really heard much about this Plainfield station KDVS extravaganza, so I was kinda confused about when it was, who was playing, etc., but it sounded fun to chill and watch the knightmares, so I agreed. D.P. and I ended up driving separately, and we both figured the show would be donation, or like three bucks or something, so as we walked up it became the classic joke that we've all heard...So the Jew and the Armenian walk up to the ten dollar show... the Armeniac pulls his patented move of nonchalantly strolling past the door people as if they don't exist. He is quickly pulled over and the Jew attempts to bargain them down using the tactics of 1) dropping my jaw in amazement at the exorbitant price 2) claiming not to have ten dollars (true, I only had eight) 3) saying, "nooo...I'm not a student, but I do work at Davis (door girl didn't care). Then we tag-teamed them and both whined and wheedled that we were only there to watch the Knightmares, who had already started playing, and that we would leave right after. The bad cop door girl was stoic, but the good cop said, "well, if you're only watching the Knightmares, I'll give you the student rate". The Armeniac high-fived me as we went in, but as Jews have slightly more scruples than Armenians, I didn't feel right about what we had done. Miller gave me a hard time about not paying the full price, but I pointed out that Jews don't pay retail. The Knightmares ended all too soon, but they are a perfect outdoors band.

Plainfield station is a great venue, and I hope to see many more shows there in the future, although during the heat of the summer, the shows should hopefully be at night, because it was scorching out on the lawn. Everyone scooched into the small patch of shade. The place serves burgers and such and beer and everyone who works there is really nice. Once again the vibes were off the vibe-o-meter. Various bands played short sets, and we all lazed on the lawn and drank beer, and Conway and I critiqued the youth fashion and checked out the eye candy. There was one guy in particular that called to mind Paul Rudd (who played the sleazy hot guy in both Wet Hot American Summer and Anchorman, if that helps you picture him). He was sort of a semi-pro photographer for the even. He kept calibrating his light meter (I'd like to help him calibrate it sometime). He was wearing aviator glasses and he kept taking off his shirt and putting it back on and posing for the ladies. I spent my time mentally entreating him to take his shirt off and pretending that he was zooming in on me when he would point the camera in my general direction. The best was when he was chatting up some girl and he started rubbing his own chest. I think some bands were playing while all this was happening, not really sure. I was having so much fun I ended up staying for much longer than I had planned, and I gave the door girl my last three bucks on the way out. I heard that Ricky Ely had to sell three hundred admissions to break even and that he was just two short. Good, job! I'll owe him two bucks next time I see him. I hope he plans more events here.

Next...I fall in love with Daisy Spot all over again.