an epidemic of stoopidity

i gotta go to lunch w/my coworkers more often. in the course of one (admittedly protracted -- hour-and-a-half) sit-down the other day, i heard the following:

1) one coworker's band was headlining at a club that shall remain nameless when a brawl erupted between two of the opening bands. apparently, when these two sterling aggros had appeared together on a bill at the same club the week before (who booked these idiots together again, anyway?), one of the bands had kicked the other band's asses. so last week, while the erstwhile ass-kickers were performing, the erstwhile ass-kickees rushed the stage in a hail of beer bottles and testosterone-'n'-alcohol-fueled righteous rage. in due course, the police were summoned and order was restored, but jayzus. if i cared enough to go back and look it up, i'd include the names of the ass-kickin' bands along with advice to any clubowner with half (maybe a quarter of?) a brain never to book either of these outfits or any of the ppl in 'em ever ever ever again. it's folks like this who give being an asshole a bad name.

2) speaking of assholes, how about the drummer from another local band who was fired one weekend (for "anger management" issues) but still showed up the next weekend to play a wedding reception with them. all well and good, except when said drummer took off his shirt and someone commented on it, it probably would have been a good idea to pause and wait and see who was talking instead of just turning around and clocking him, which is what drummer boy did. turns out it was the bridegroom's father. after being beat down by his friends (?!?!?), the kid winds up on the sidewalk, where he goes up to some random person (actually, a "big biker guy" according to the coworker who told the story) and rips the shirt off his back. afterward, the storyteller said, "i let the guy hit him four times before i pulled him off, because that was a stupid thing to do."

3) last but not least, another coworker reported receiving a late-night call from her teenage son, requesting a pickup from the door (that'd be the, um, christian-rock club up in cowtown's stockyards) before a big fight went down _between the preps and the emos_. wtf? mod-'n'-rockerismo comes to the northside? a quadrophenia or slc punk for the oh-ohs? i repeat, wtf?!?!? since when do "emos" _fight_? i thought they'd cry or just lie down on the sidewalk and allow the abercrombie & fitch wearers to stomp the shit out of 'em. proof positive, as if any more were needed, that fashion is _evil_: leads to warfare.

just what i needed: more reasons never to leave my house.