Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Corn Dogs, Lesbians & X-Ray Vision

The air was unusually crisp and cool for a June evening.

It also smelled of my vomit.

I rarely host concerts anymore because it's usually highly annoying, you don't get paid extra and the manager of the artist that's being showcased usually turns out to be a complete control freak.

Hey, look! I'm a winner on all the preceding counts.

But back to my vomit.

It was liquidy, a huge mess of Wild Cherry Diet Pepsi and gooey snot.

Gooey snot, coincidentally, just happens to be an ingredient in Diet Pepsi.

Go figure.

I get so nervous before speaking before a huge crowd of people that I allow myself to vomit completely and with abandon. It's actually quite freeing because I feel worlds better once it's over.

Tonight was no different.

The Petaluma Fair lasts only five days, is about a quarter of a mile long with two exhibit halls and two stages.

I share the details of this fair to give you an crystal clear idea of how insignifigant my hosting a show at this venue is.

Thank you.

When I stepped on stage I had to introduce the opening band, a nice group of people with two women and two gentlemen.

The women were nearing middle age, but they both had nice tight asses. I mention this because as I was waiting to go on stage, they would turn in my direction each time I took in their glorious bottoms.

The Stacy Tight Ass X-Ray Vision was causing a focused beam of lust at each of their asses that would cause their bottoms to rise in temperature in an ever so subtle fashion.

There were more Tight Assed Groupies backstage, but we'll get to them in a moment.

As I stepped on stage a group of middle aged women in the front of the stage went berzerk.


I'm rarely struck speechless, especially live on stage, so I just allowed my addictive laughter to filter into every blade of grass on the field before me.

The band members were amazed at this reaction and commented through the mic that I was very popular.

I ignored them because it couldn't be farther than the truth.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, kids of all shapes and sizes..."

That's how I introduce every act I host. It's a nod to the premiere god of entertainment behind a microphone, Mr. David Letterman.

"...Little Big Town!"

They were a surprisingly good band with their lead vocalist Tight Assed performers carrying a tune quite well.

I always hope I only have to go on stage once, but my night was barely over.

The group was scheduled to perform for 35 minutes and then I would do a "bridge" where I explain to the audience that they have to do a set change for Josh Turner, the headliner for the evening.

Flawless. Didn't stumble. Wasn't even thrown off by people asking about my health in the front row. I rarely compliment myself, but I did pretty well.

It took them for frickin' ever to change the set. I would have let my annoyance show, but I'm a professional, and you never know when one of these up and comers is going to be a huge star and you'll need them to record something for you in the future.

So I returned to using the Stacy Tight Ass X-Ray Vision. All the groupies, every single one of them, obviously knew what performers like since they all had wonderfully tight little asses.

But as opposed to the middle age performers in Little Big Town, these groupies felt their asses should only be stared at by big time, blockbuster celebrities, not puny, worthless broadcasters.

Every single time my Stacy Tight Ass X-Ray Vision was detected, they each responded in kind with a dirty look.

They obviously had Anti-Tight Ass Gawking installed firmly in each of their asses because I was caught each and every time.

I couldn't help myself. God their asses were nice. I wanted to take a couple of them home and place them on a shelf in my apartment. Then I could enjoy their tightness at my leisure.

But it wasn't meant to be.

Finally it was time to introduce Josh Turner. He's such a big star (no he isn't), that he didn't even bother to come out and introduce himself to me. He stayed in his tour bus, which was parked behind the stage, and didn't come out until I was on stage introducing him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, kids of all shapes and sizes..."

Why mess with what works??

"...please welcome, MCA recording artist...JOSH TURNER!"

The crowd fully filled the field as Josh started to perform.

That's when I realized that all the Tight Asses Groupies were gone. There was no reason to hang around backstage. I put on my sweatshirt (it was frickin' freezing for June) and slipped out the back, avoiding all two of my fans who were probably drooling over Josh's ass by now.


One of the loneliest feelings in the world is being at a lively, bubbling fair and have no one to share it with.

So I decided to drown my sorrow in the most amazing food ever created in the history of fairdom...the magnificent corn dog.

Have you had one of these? They're fan-frickin-tastic.

They take a regular hot dog...are you still with me?? They boil it and then shove it in this bubbling corn mush goo (which I believe was the name of a group in the 70's) and slam it on a stick and serve it up hot and fresh.


I stood in line and as luck would have it, I was standing behind two adorable lesbians.

Yes, Tight Assed Lesbians.

They were both clad in revealing leather. They had just made their way to the counter and were placing their order when I noticed they were arm in arm. And they wouldn't let one another go as they dug in their purses for the four dollars they were asking for their wretched nachos.

The one on the left had short, raven hair and milky skin. The one on the right was a little shorter with her strawberry blonde hair tied back in a bun. They both couldn't stop giggling as they finally mustard up the four bucks.

I couldn't help it. My Stacy Tight Assed X-Ray Vision kicked into gear.

But they didn't even flinch.

They finally paid for their nachos and then the two adorable tight assed lesbians were gone.

Sigh. (The sequel to the original sigh, which wasn't much of a produced sigh to begin with.)

I scrounged together my three dollars for the corn dog and bathed it in mustard.

It was heaven on a stick.

Which is probably what the lesbians were looking for after the fair.

But that's another blog, for another day.

God bless corn dogs, lesbians and tight assed women.

Not necessarily in that order.

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