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Much mucic, then I play volleyball with competitive assholes.

We were actually given the day off today, so I got me a three day weekend.

woo.

Saturday night I went, as always, to The Double Down Saloon; where I was cheerfully by bouncer Stave with a warm Bro-Hug and the announcement, "There's an amazing lineup tonight."

[ For the uninitiated, The Double Down is my hangout bar. Very dark, very smoky, fantastic staff, all-around gret place. Plenty of cool folks to hang with and watch the freakie-deakies scare the shit out of wayward tourists that come in unprepared. Most of the guys I work with are afraid to go there with me, except for Selina, who is maybe 100 pounds soaking wet but not afraid of drunken punks.

Best part of all this? Except for New Years Eve, No cover. EVER.

Don't go there and be an asshole. ]

Steve wasn't lying. Opening the night was The Holy Smokes, a fine group with a nice heavy blues bent to them complete with fantastic harmonica playing; then we punked out with The Pervs, two brothers and a friend who have brought the goddamn house down each of the half dozen times I've seen them play; and closing with Soda And His Million Piece Band.

No, its just a name. They actually had eight or nine guys jammed in the little "stage area", about half of whom were a horn section that were tight as hell and kicked the proverbial ass. I couldn't see them very well because of all the people, but the sound was good enough I actually bought a CD. Homemade. Better value than most commercially produces crap out there.

Yes, the band names are links. Some MP3s to listen to. Get over there NOW.

I followed this fine night of boozing and bands with ANOTHER night of boozing and bands, but this time I went with friends to the Silverton casino and heard Led Zepplica, a Zepplin tribute band.

No, I didn't choose this one, but they were actually quite good and I had a rocking good time. Check out the Silverton website to see the rash of tribute bands coming down the pike. It's apparently their thing.

To close the week we all gethered at the sand court in my pally's housing development and played a little volleyball, drank a little beer, and got a little sunburned.

While I shockingly managed to have a good time in the sun, there was one thing that irked the shit out of me. See, there were like 12 of us there, some playing, some not, generally having a good time. The rest of the complex was actually down in that area having a bigass memorial day celebration.

All nice. All good.

As we were playing a few teenage guys came over and asked if they could play, and we brought them in very nicely and a goods time was still had. A few other stragglers joined in.

Then the VOLLEYBALL SPECIALISTS showed up. We didn't mind that they wandered over and warmed up a little and expected to be able to jump in with us. We were willing to give into their request of a game of 3-on-3 so this older guy and his sons (or boy lovers or whoever the hell they were) could play as a team and all.

What was irritating as all fuck was that the VOLLEYBALL SPECIALISTS took this pickup game just a touch too seriously. They were the first ones to start an argument on the rules (Basic rule on "I saw this you saw that"? DO-Over. Simple and no one has to yell.) and they when we were playing 6 on 6 so everyone could get in, they all played on the same team (which isnt annoying) and proceeded to pass the ball only amongst themselves (which is annoying as all fuck.) I don't need to say how overcompetitive they were.

There isnt really much more to say here. You get my point. If you're going to jump in and play pickup games with people you don't know, don't be a big fucking asshole.

Needless to say, after hte 6-6 game, we stopped playing.


Sidenote: Ryan Seacrest, you thieving motherfucker. I've been saying "Slap Out" for five goddamn years, now you steal it. You are a talentless hack with nice teeth and an expensive wardrobe.

Fuck you.

Slap OUT

31 May 04

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