Apparently He Loved Dave Matthews...
I took BART into San Francisco today and it was FILLED with idiots going to the 'free' ($30) Dave Matthews Band concert in Golden Gate Park.
"How many shows have you seen?" asked everyone on board. All I could think was that if the train crashed, somewhere in my obituary it would read, "A train, filled with fans of the Dave Matthews band...". Then my parents, being completely confused, would bury me in a Dave Matthews T-shirt and hire a Dave Matthews cover band to play at my funeral. Sure, my friends would try to tell them that it was all a coincidence and that I hate the band with every fiber of my being, but history would remember me as just one of a thousand or so douchebags who couldn't get enough of Dave's unique brand of yodeling mediocrity.
Now I know how the few people who went to see Great White in Rhode Island as a joke must've felt as they saw the walls start to flame up.
posted by Drew at 4:32 AM
1 comments:
Granted, it would have sucked to have died while surrounded by those people, but, I think I'd rather take that than be one of the lucky few who were covered in the liquified poop of he and his fellow bandmates. I'd never want to know the embarrassment of having worn the shit of a fiddle player like suntan lotion.
12:55 AM
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