I had this texting conversation with Erin's husband Broc tonight:
Broc: "You are losing fans with the lack of posts."
Katie: "ha I'm sorry! I don't have the internet right now (true story). I'll try and post tomorrow!"
Broc: "Maybe you could hit some more male fans by making this next one a little more bloody/action packed."
Katie: "Great advice. I've got a good story about a cat fight I saw last night at a concert. That should work."
Broc: "Excellent idea. All your ideas are excellent. I take back what I said last week about you getting skunked by your uncle in ping pong in front of everyone. You are cool."
(Sorry if you don't remember sending that last text Broc. I'm sure you did.)
(Sorry if you don't remember sending that last text Broc. I'm sure you did.)
Anyways, remember this girl? She actually wrote this song for tonight when two things would happen:
1. My darling friend Casey Goodman lent me his extra computer. (doesn't it make him sound rich to say "extra computer")
2. My cute friend Russell Ochoa is from Mexico.
Oh, and he fixed my internet. I just like telling people that he is from Mexico so you don't think I only have white friends from Utah. Plus he has the most darling Mexican accent you've ever heard.
Anyways, on to the cat fight story:
I went and saw Ratatat last night in SLC.
1. My darling friend Casey Goodman lent me his extra computer. (doesn't it make him sound rich to say "extra computer")
2. My cute friend Russell Ochoa is from Mexico.
Oh, and he fixed my internet. I just like telling people that he is from Mexico so you don't think I only have white friends from Utah. Plus he has the most darling Mexican accent you've ever heard.
Anyways, on to the cat fight story:
I went and saw Ratatat last night in SLC.
At one point we were pushing out way to the front when I heard a girl behind me say to the girl next to me something to the effect of, "Kindly get out of my way. You're blocking my view."
Except with a lot more F words.
To which the girl next to me replied: "If you'd like you could rip all the hair out of my head instead."
So she did.
And I stood next to her and watched.
And then a big boy came in and picked up the hair-puller and carried her out and everyone cheered and said the F word more to commemorate the fact that both girls were really drunk and that one of them had significantly less hair than when she came.
The End.
The second best story of the night was when we moved to the edges of the crowd in order to obtain the ability to lift our arms above our heads.
I was dancing with myself, minding my own business, when this guy with a huge dread-lock ponytail that kept spearing me in the face turned around and offered me something small and on fire.
It took me a second to realize he wanted me to smoke it.
Now, call me naive (maybe twice. I deserve it.) but being from Utah, this was actually the first time I have been offered any sort of drug whatsoever.
I would just like to give a shout out to the Ad Council, the U.S. Government and Dixie Downs Elementary for investing millions of dollars into commercials, posters and drug-free weeks all leading up to that one moment at a Ratatat concert in Salt Lake City where I could say "nah, thanks" to the man with the bandana wrapped around his dreads that had pictures of little signs that said "Caution Men Working."
I was so mad I didn't say "No!"
All that practice for nothing.
Love, Katie
P.s.- I will blog more. I swear. With pictures even! And now that I have the internet back, this really might not be an empty promise.
Except with a lot more F words.
To which the girl next to me replied: "If you'd like you could rip all the hair out of my head instead."
So she did.
And I stood next to her and watched.
And then a big boy came in and picked up the hair-puller and carried her out and everyone cheered and said the F word more to commemorate the fact that both girls were really drunk and that one of them had significantly less hair than when she came.
The End.
The second best story of the night was when we moved to the edges of the crowd in order to obtain the ability to lift our arms above our heads.
I was dancing with myself, minding my own business, when this guy with a huge dread-lock ponytail that kept spearing me in the face turned around and offered me something small and on fire.
It took me a second to realize he wanted me to smoke it.
Now, call me naive (maybe twice. I deserve it.) but being from Utah, this was actually the first time I have been offered any sort of drug whatsoever.
I would just like to give a shout out to the Ad Council, the U.S. Government and Dixie Downs Elementary for investing millions of dollars into commercials, posters and drug-free weeks all leading up to that one moment at a Ratatat concert in Salt Lake City where I could say "nah, thanks" to the man with the bandana wrapped around his dreads that had pictures of little signs that said "Caution Men Working."
I was so mad I didn't say "No!"
All that practice for nothing.
Love, Katie
P.s.- I will blog more. I swear. With pictures even! And now that I have the internet back, this really might not be an empty promise.
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