Weeping Openly

I went to a roller derby match the other day. Is it a match? I went to a roller derby game. I went to a roller derby tournament. I went to a roller derby disaster. I went to a roller rink and watch people who were equal parts juggalo and rockabilly ride around in circles and get yelled at from a crowd of people who adored Coors Light and having very long goatees.

I didn,t see any, but I can guarantee that a huge amount of green animal print clothing had been purchased by the players as well as the spectators. They all loved neon colored stand up basses and not having to think when talking to their significant other. Also included on their list of preferred activities are mudding, collecting DUIs, ignoring the needs of their children, making fun of their children, construction, and making fun of kids who wear tight pants.

Sean McCann - Midnight Orchard The referees were my favorite people there. My favorite of the favorite was a guy whose referee name was Zombiegoat. He had zebra print roller skates and skull socks and absolutely no ambition in life. He made me extremely happy and extremely sad at the same time so I felt nothing when I looked at him. It was bizarre. I have never experienced anything like that.

I felt very sticky by the time I left even though I tried my hardest not to touch anything. I guess that,s the prize you get for going to one of those things - a feeling of stickiness. I bet it would have been less expensive if I had had a tattoo. That seems like the place that gives tattoo discounts. You get fifty percent off for a normal tattoo and seventy five percent off if you can prove that one of your tattoos used to be a swastika.