2005-07-13 - 3:54 p.m.

Oh yes. The Dane Cook show at the Hampton Beach Casino. It was me, Andrea, Kate, and Kate's sister Lisa (or Bisa if you're nasty). Rick and Mike were there in the crowd as well. So were Rich and Julie. And Aly was waitressing. But we had better seats than all of them. Nyah-nyah.

But with better seats come class wars. And I'll be damned if every concert I go to where Lisa is involved, some sort of class war doesn't get passionately ignited. These biker fuckbags were heckling the comedian that was on before Dane. Which, seeing as it was Jay Davis, who's had the same routine since 1917, was somewhat understandable. And trust me, even the Romanov's didn't find it funny then. And no, no clue what I'm talking about. I just know that Andrea, Kate and I would have quietly cringed and tried to shy our way away from the bikers view and offered them all of our money and beer. Oh no, not Lisa. Hell no. Not our Lisa. She shoves her chair out. Slashes one of them across his sweaty, fat, tattooed face with the frayed end of her high heel, spits in the guys eye and says, "Listen motherfucker, I spent $50 so I could listen to Dane fucking Cook make me laugh so hard that I pee. And I don't need your pig-fucking mouth flapping like a retarded donkey on crystal meth behind me while I try to take in a show - got it?!" Well, that shut him up.

And then Aly came over and brought us lots of food and drinks. And Dane was very funny. His new CD will be out soon and will attest to how funny it was. Also, I peed for 47 seconds in the Hampton Beach Casino bathrooms. I counted. Obviously. Snorts was in the bathroom at the same time and I told him. And you just know that we were scared that I had just peed some sort of spooky Rambaldi urine. Of course, we tried not to get too wildly tanked at the show as there was already a party in progress at my house . . .

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