Murrrcat, some things will never change.
RB's (((((grandmother))))). That's just sad.
I had the strangest dreams during my nap. It was a mixed bag of concerts I went to. I was running around trying to stop ever so drunken gurrel friends from getting in mosh pits, while wearing china flats or flip flops. True story. I would gladly play share the combat boots to avoid broken toes. Anywho, in the true spirit of exhaustion and boredom, I woke up and started reading articles on mosh pits. I can't stop laughing.
^ what is that?
I also could not help but laugh at the tales of "concert violence". The mp was a voluntary place that moved in time with the music. You had people around the edge of the swirling pit. You got in only if you wanted to, and knew you might catch an elbow or ... It was for fun, not personal, and a place to release aggression. Apparently people now take off running across a room, and head butt random strangers.
Not that any of this is important, just annoying (to me).