well, if you were unhappy with the quality and balance of the show sound , then you could have looked towards the merch booth and not the mix booth to find your answer. "yes, over here, i ordered that vomit omelet." i scheduled a late load in/soundcheck which proved to be about a billion light years off the mark. "really, you were off by that much Call, that ain't like you". "ahh, guess i was usin' my bad eye." when i say "off", i mean, marching men for war into mexico and hitting haiti first, starting from the alamo. death upon ridiculous death, which was unfortunate, as it was bob's biggest crowd here yet. sometimes, i have a way of jabbing a dirty needle into the vein of a clean, beautiful being. then, i watch from a distance as they deal with addiction, drag knuckles to earth and peel back the grin. sludgy veins. toilet brains. hobo fuck-mattresses, and soil stains. then, i walk up to them and hand them a dollar cause i liked their sign, and feel good about myself. the show shaped up as best it could and proved to be a successful night. many new faces and questions. progression. "well, ain't no since in getting too settled, we got to be out before the sun".
Which show was this?
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