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Last night, the War on Corn Chips comes back on stage for the encore. The lead singer says, "Do you mind if one of our friends joins us for this next song?" Then from the back of the stage, a giant mane of hair wanders toward the guest microphone to the left of the lead singer. The song starts, it's a cover of John Lennon's "Mind Games." After only the first 20 seconds, everyone else on stage disappears. I look around, and the crowd is completely gone as well, except a couple making out in the corner, and a crusty old white dude sweeping up the plastic drink containers spread across the venue's floor. I slowly walk towards the front of the stage to get a better view of this transcendental experience.
When I arrived, my eyes still fixated on the mane of hair singing, the roof of the Wonder Ballroom opens, and the mane of hair floats towards me. He puts my right arm around his neck, grabbed me with his right arm under my knees, and lifts me to the sky. He flew me over the Rose Garden, then over the Willamette River to my condo Townhouse, singing to me the whole way. We shared a cigarette and a couple laughs. When we arrived, he placed me on my couch, and says, "Later dude, I've gotta run." I stared into his compelling eyes, and muttered the phrase, "You must be an angel." He looked back at me, and do you know what he said?
"Nah dude, I'm just like you, I put my pants on one leg at a time."
I think there is something more sinister happening here. It's like Ticketmaster didn't want you to have your money, so they caused these things to happen. All of us will have similar accidents in our lives. Like Final Destination or some shit.
I read all of your posts in Frasier's voice, but this one is especially delightful.