barefoot in the rain.

where's my socks?
i wonder....
lucky for me and my feet,
i don't need 'em-
because they got rocked off in portland.
home of the rudest, most self-absorbed concert-goers ever.
they got louder as they got drunker,
and they only talked and didn't listen.
that's not exactly a phil spector/apple records wall of sound.
more like a suck sandwich.
...what a bunch of sh!tlords.
but,
even the carhartt dread-headlock'd mullet A*-blasters
could not diminish the volcanic hottness
of dark dark dark.
nor could the sloshing intestinal armageddon
incited by pounds and pounds of vegan treats.
guess who was eating there next to us?
the triple dark, ninjas.
small world?
or vegan legend?
or both?
i don't know for sure.
but i know that our server not only remembered us,
but gave jess her # as well.
no,
not in a gay way.
she made friends.
based solely on our memorable glutton festivals.
nice.
walking in the rain is awful.
driving in the rain in the dead of night is too.
there's flood warnings poppin' up all over the place up here.
which makes me glad i live on a hill.
in just a few hours,
i'm out the door,
on the road,
and on my way.
i'll try and catch a wink or forty,
a little shuteye an' that,
but i seem to be shiverin' with antici....
...pation.
but maybe the rain is really to blame.
y'all know the rest;
never quiet, never soft.....