The former was a lulu and the latter was a flake.

Howdy,
Arnica had a fun weekend. Did you?

It started on Friday when Arnica and a few of his guy-pals went to watch the hometown nine play some ball. If you are one of those Leeeeberal hippy, america hating, tofu eating muthafuukas, Arnica may need to translate for you and your pot filled, what passes for a mind; Arnica went to a baseball game.

The game was ok. Arnica and company spent the entire pre-game drinking beers across the street. In the time it took us to walk from the bar to the park, the game started and the away team started their offensive series. In the time it took to get from the entrance to our seat, the away team scored SEVEN runs. This is before we even got to our section, this was before we even got our first $9 beer from the inside-the-park beer selling person. So we took our seats and drank till the score was 7-4 (8th inning) and then we rode away into the night. Relax, you hippy. We rode our bikes to the game so the only drunken road rage came when one of us dropped our dope on the street and we had to pedal back and find it. We did.

We convened at some dude's house and played poker till the wee morning hours. Arnica sucked but honed his rebuying in skills quite a bit. For you sandal wearing, dreadlock wearing, Ralph Nader voting futher mukers; a rebuy is when you pay to get back in a poker game.

Saturday was uneventful. That night, Gravy and the Biscuit Rollers played a show at a giant book store in Kenmore (where the hell is Kenmore? Arnica drove there and still doesn't know where the hell Kenmore is). The band is really moving in the right direction now—Book stores. Next, we are going to play in the waiting room of the DMV. Actually, it was a great show. The book store was huge. It had a giant food court, a big stage and they even had things called, "books." The only pisser was the sound guy. Sound guys can either be good or suck. Most suck. This guy sucked. He was a 20-something generation Z dorkus who gave us no bass or vocals in our monitors so when we sang our first songs, we could only hear the drums. Sweat poured off our brows. All we could hope for was that the sound in the crowd sounded good. We were told, it did. Arnica repeatedly asked for more bass in the monitors, the dweeb on the sound board gestured like he got the message, tweaked some knobs and nothing changed. What is a bass player to do? You guessed it. Arnica turned up. The guys in the band appreciated being able to hear the bass (who wouldn't) but Arnica made yet another enemy, a 20-something dorkus high on tofu and wheat grass. Hippies!

On Sunday afternoon, Arnica went to the scene of Friday's crime and watched the home team 9 loose another game. Except, this time, they lost while Arnica was sober. Still sucked. No hippies, though.