- Sun-baked hick, consisting mostly of tendons, whipping a bandana over his head and hollering, “Tube Snake Boogie… Whoooo!… Rock n Roll!!… Gettin’ my cack sucked tonight!”
- Ted McGinley lookalike, with a dishearteningly large penis, urinating directly into a floor drain.
- Two laughing teens throwing debris onto their friend, shitting in the corner stall. Some items that went over the top: empty beer cup, half-full beer cup, ten-pound roll of paper towels, toilet plunger, large can of Comet, stainless steel napkin dispenser.
- Three college girls gyrating and thrusting, single-file, through the room – with their arms above their heads, and “sexy” whore pouts on their faces.
- Nondescript gentleman pissing into an empty popcorn bucket.
- Nervous teenager standing at a urinal, before being knocked to the floor by a group of roughhousing hillbillies. Wiener: fully retracted into trousers, several seconds before the flow could be stanched.
- High school boy smiling like a mental patient through a heavy beard of vomit.
- Man with thousand-yard stare eating (I’m almost certain) a rotisserie chicken.
- Toilet seat being thrown like a discus, nearly decapitating a Michael McDonald-lookalike pissing into a trash can.
- Rosy-cheeked fatboy screaming “Goooooooaal!” after successfully slap-kicking a urinal cake through a door, and deep into the snack bar area.
- Pipsqueak teenager puking between two sinks, and halfway up the mirror.
- Hippie-type telling everyone “this is not righteous, man,” before someone wound-up, hurled human feces, and hit him in the shoulder.
- A skinny boy making out with a skinny girl near the hand-blower. If they’re still together (ha!), I imagine them saying to each other, “Whenever I smell vomit, piss, whiskey, and turds… I’m reminded of young love and balls-out rock n roll.”
Now playing in the bunker
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You have an almost savant memory of things involving fecal matter, urine, vomit and music. It’s a gift, and don’t think we don’t appreciate it.
Some memories are like gifts that keep on giving….
Come to think of it, about half of those were me at different times…
Johnny Virgil says
The big question is: which one were you?
I agree Jeff.
If the vomit bearded lad were to describe what he saw, would it include some weirdo standing in the doorway glaring at all these freaks?
Did you stay in there for the whole show? If not, I look forward to hearing the reports from the floor, the snack bar and the t shirt and bong vending area.
Senor Kaboom says
I never get to see fun things like that. Just Ordinary F***ing People 🙁
Thak you, Jeff! This set the tone for a decent day today and I have a boring ass meeting to sit through. I’ll be thinking about “Man with thousand yard stare eating a rotisserie chicken” to get me through it.
Ma sweet hand-blower babeee!! WOOOHOOO!!
Damn funny update!
Per Pauly Shore’s rule of sluts at rock concerts someone should have hollered at the three whores “Hey Lisa” and watch at least one if not all of them respond. According to Pauly any sleazy nasty slut at a rock concert is bound to be named Lisa.
Were you in the United States?
Sounds like a Friday or Saturday night at the bar we hang at! My late husband used to put dollar bills in the urinal there to see how long it would take for them to disappear. They were always gone by the end of the night.
Heh… we would do the same thing with quarters. I have a feeling most of them ended up in the pool tables.
…And somehow I thought I had lived a full and rewarding life…until I read this! Classic stuff, JK!
Brad K says
I was not a “hippie-type.” Dammit, Jeff, is it wrong to want some order and decency in a public restroom?
Mike the ripper says
I think I went to this exact same show in Nashville in the ’70’s! Those same freaks must have followed the band. Minus the fecal flinger….
Beard of vomit…heh. the whole scene sounds like something torn from a page of R. Crumb’s notebook. Humanity at its most base, although nothing compared to this country after one week without electricy and fuel. Gonna try the dollar bill in the urinal next chance I get. Maybe ill even wrap a turd in a fiver if I’m in the mood.
Sounds like the ass-penny trick is moving up to a more affluent crowd.
I’ve decided that if I see anyone breast feeding in a public area, I am going to sit across from them, or near them, and stare at them for the entire process.
I will sit still, silent, and expressionless. Looking between them and the baby head sucking their flesh.
If they want to make me uncomfortable by doing this in public, I am going to make them uncomfortable for doing that in public.
It’s not illegal to look at someone when they are in a public place. If they don’t like me staring at them while their tit is flopped out and balanced in a small humans mouth, they can go somewhere I can’t see them.
On the other hand, I try not to stare at women bottle-feeding their babies in public – it’s just so unnatural…
Wow, it seems you have issues with this. Do you mind if they cover up and breastfeed? Is it the breastfeeding itself that bothers you, or the sight of an uncovered breast?
I never see stuff like that, and I guess it’s just as well. Maybe I just don’t go to the “right” concerts.
Thanks for a great update, Jeff – it improved my mood.
The whole scene you described is an excellent subject for one of those action-packed paintings showing lots of people doing interesting things. I think Thomas Kincade would do an outstanding job! Wait a minute…. Damn!
Thomas Kinkade??? I’m thinking more like Hieronymus Bosch, maybe Brueghel the Younger.
Norman Rockwell would have been good, too.
Steadman is the only name needing mentioned here. If I was in any shape at all to dial a phone I would alert him to the urgency he should muster to get a pen and paper and record this goddamn freak show just to let people know there is an alternative side of being normal.
A tableau, rendered in feces, vomit and matted hair. Julian schnabel for sure. I’m available to pose as the popcorn bucket feller.
I just contacted the artist that painted the closing sequence for “Good Times”. He’s available.
I’m guessing these were acid-induced memories?
This is a mockable…you jerk…a great mockable, but still
Former name Smith says
I was there too — standing in the longgggg line for the Ladie’s Room.