This katt named Saul Williams played with NIN on a couple of songs. Apparently, he's a modern poet/singer/artist who has a lot to say about human issues. IT was really kool and all, but for some reason I found it hysterical to watch TR sing backup for this spastic dude and keep chanting "where my niggas' at?" over and over to a backdrop of typical NIN musical fare-- lights, smoke, and sound. and the even funnier part? I didn't say anything to anyone about how fucking funny I thought it was and then this morning Heath looks over at me and says "so, did you see Trent saying "Where my niggas' at?" over and over? Did that seem so fucking surreal and hilarious to anyone but me?" hah. I love that we share a brain sometimes... *giggles*
NIN was, all except the fact that proceeds went to NOLA rebuilding, the only reason why I went really... so after having waited all day and drank so many of these yucky robitussin-esque southern comfort slushie deals, because it was either that or Miller Lite (YIK!), they showed me that they were indeed worth the wait. We were only about 20 feet from the stage too. I was scared moshing would break out and spook Rhiannon and Gary (not sure they liked NIN's showing all that much, crazy kids!)
Mind you, Memphis is about 11+ hours away from here by car, depending on how cooperative your bladder is and/or whether or not you can smoke in said mode of transport (we couldn't)-- and I had to work today at noon. So guess who jumped out of a really cramped Honda Civic this morning at about 10am long enough to change clothes, slather on some deodorant, pull my yucky, dirty hair back in a pony tail, and come to work on practically NO sleep only to have to work until 9pm? hah. NO, not Fidel Castro! Me,you Goobers!!
It's approx 7 now... only a little over 2 hours to go. and BOY am I slap happy!
oh, yeah, and Happy Halloween, motherfuckers! :P