Why Dave Matthews is the Anti-Christ...

Most people who know us well know the one concert we actively try to get tickets to is Dave Matthews Band. Beyond our recent outing with Faye to see Sponge/Gin Blossoms/Soul Asylum (Gaww!)/Verve Pipe, that's the extent of it.

Well, tickets went on sale today.... and I forgot all about it until this evening. They generally sell out within the first 30 minutes because every teenage girl wants to hear the guy sing "Crash" for the bajillionth time. C'mon now, it should be a requirement that you own at least two DMB albums before you're allowed tickets. Anyway...

I go on Ticketmaster.com tonight just to see if I'll luck out and get nosebleed seats like I did last time. Come to find out it's some kind of a political concert, kind of a Democratic benefit type thing. I tell Billy, and he's like "No way will I go to something that's gonna benefit the DEMOCRATS!" Okay, I am SO not into politics, but Billy might as well be the skinny version of Rush Limbaugh. Gag me with a spoon, and I do mean like totally!

What gets me is that in order for them to just tell me if there are tickets available, I've got to enter my occupation and my employer's name. Oh man... Big brother! They really ARE out to get me!!!

It's a shame, too, cuz I really wanted to see Ben Harper in his rhinestone cowboy duds. Darn liberals. Heh.

Wha???

What in the world was the point in waking up today???

I spend all day waiting for my oven to be delivered. Up rolls the Home Depot truck, takes one look at the scary death-trap we like to call our front door (think: walk the plank!) and the mud all around the house, and says there ain't no way in heck, lady. All the while, I'm thinking he's absolutely right, and how dumb we were not to cancel the delivery. At least I got a majority of the typing done for Dr. Marble-mouth-can't-remember-today's-date.... The biggest plus so far!

And since L-dog wants to spend his birthday cash on a kitty, we visit Pet Supplies Plus to meet the Animal Rescue lady. Cute kittens. And, wouldn't you know it? Logan picks the only cat who's terrified of us and NOT PURRING. And, named Wally. What kind of a name is Wally? Is that something I really want to yell as the cute little furrball is shredding my new leather couch? "Wally, no! WALLY, ONE MORE SCRATCH AND YOU'RE GETTING DECLAWED!" And other empty threats. Somehow, the name Devil-cat seems more appropriate for such situations.

So, anyway... Logan doesn't grasp the concept that Animal Rescue Lady WILL NOT let us leave with one of the kitties as she knows we are moving in a month.... and to an animal person, this is too much adjustment and stress to put an animal through more than once per month. Heh. So, Logan is throwing the temper tantrum of his life in the aisle of the store, whilst threatening to open the door of the cat carrier, releasing Wally and his sister. All the while, Mr. Fussypants (a.k.a Hunter after four shots) is barking his disamusement off to the side of the aisle. Billy shows up after having driven to Ohio for work, holds a cat, and has absolutely no help for me except to swing Logan around the store by his arms. Secretly, I could see Animal Rescue Lady marking our names off the list they've got of approved applications for adoption.

We get home and put the kids to bed, then battle eachother on the Gamecube. Why did I wake up, again?

And why does Geoffrey Fieger's commercial for Highland Park's Career Academy sound like an old-time gumshoe movie soundtrack? Maybe it's a mystery why they asked him to do their commercial? Hmmmm....