Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch!
I'm not a misogynist. I'm not a misanthrope. I just don't like YOU!
It was supposed to be another cool night out. Me and Bitter M.F. went out to The Continental Club, one of the last clubs in Austin that's still "old Austin" cool, to see Jon Dee Graham (fucking legend if ever there should be one) . . . good plan, right? Favorite club, favorite artist, best friend . . . should be a good night.And it was, don't get me wrong. Damn good night. In spite of some recent health problems Jon Dee was in great form and he has some new songs that are quite possible his best material in years. I was really enjoying the show . . . until the stupid bitch a few chairs down decided to ruin it.
Now before any of you get your panties in a wad . . . "stupid bitch", or in fact bitch in general, is not a term I am in the habit of applying to women. I frown on the use of the term as a blanket descriptor for the female of the species (unless that species is canis lupus). However, sometimes an epithet is appropriate for the situation . . . in other words, sometimes you gotta call a bitch a bitch. And sometimes you gotta call stupid stupid.
I'll never understand why someone would pay a cover charge to go to a club which is by and large a live music venue and then sit there and try to talk to someone throughout the entire performance. If you want to talk, or try and get laid, there are bars that let you in for free and have an atmosphere much more conducive to such endeavors. But I guess this stupid bitch figured it was her money, she can do what she wants. The only problem with that is I paid my money too, and I paid to hear Jon dee Graham. I didn't pay to listen to some stupid bitch trying to chat up the guy next to her. Right in front of the stage. During the damn performance.
How stupid was this bitch? She actually raised her voice as the music got louder, trying to talk over the band! She didn't hear when Jon commented about her talking so loudly. But wait! There's more! Jon actually stopped in the middle of a song, said "There's no sense playing a quiet song while that bitch is talking, let's do something loud", and she cheered . . . and then started trying to chat up the guy sitting next to her again. Loudly. Thank god a Fender Strat through a Marshall amp beats a stupid bitch in the volume department . . . any day of the week. But the mood was changed. You could see it in his eyes.
See, something else you might want to think about, you stupid bitch, is that musicians are people too. Those 3 men and one woman on that stage were trying to do their jobs. They get paid for this. It's how they earn a living. What if we all came down to where you work and screamed in your ear every time you asked someone "you want fries with that"? And it's not like it was Nickleback on stage . . . Jon Dee is an artist. Those songs he was singing are personal, bits and pieces of his life and dreams and trials that he opens his heart up and tries to share with you and you fucking took all of that, shit all over it, and threw it back in his face. Here's an idea . . . listen to the man and maybe you'll learn something. Or go outside. Or go somewhere else. Or just shut the fuck up you stupid bitch!
I think Dean Vernon Wormer said it best when he said "Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life". Ooops, I promised myself I wasn't going to comment on her weight. But I did. Fuck it. OK, to be fair she wasn't obese . . . but she's carrying a few more pounds than look good on her. And this is coming from a man who likes a woman to be a bit softer than the skinny ass bitches you usually see. And like I said, I usually wouldn't say anything, but for the love of God and all that is holy if you would just Shut the fuck up you stupid bitch, none of this would happen. Get your drink on, try to get laid, talk all the nonsense you want to talk, just don't ruin other people's evenings while you do it. Look at me! I'm usually a really nice guy, a teddy bear, and you caused me to abandon my happy-go-lucky demeanor. You caused this!
I'm just the messenger.
