2003-01-23 - 1:37 a.m.

Murfreesboro has turned white again. I get another day off work because of it.

I just got back from Feeble Weiner at the Red Rose's new club in the back room- aptly called The Freezer. I don't know if that's the name they've chosen for good, or if one of the bands that played tonight just thought it would be funny.

It was a storage room of some sort that the owners of said Red Rose are apparently renovating. That's where most, although I don't think all, of their shows are nowadays. The roof was leaking over the stage (looks like a warehouse ceiling). The walls were only partially covered with plaster (although, to make it look more "done", there is a piece of a mural already painted on one of them). The windows look like the windows that tend to be broken out in old factories (but they were all intact). There was the beginnings of an office off to the side (complete with some poor computer).

There was no heat.

Did I mention that Murfreesboro is experiencing extreme temperatures- that there's a severe weather warning out that we will be below freezing temperatures until Saturday (for those of you from up North reading this, that's strange for around here).

It was nice though. The crowd was a little bouncy, and we were all happy because, hey, we chose to stand there in that room. We wanted to see the show *that bad*. We were damn well gonna have a good time.

You could see the singers' breath as the bands relentlessly belted out there tunes despite the poor conditions. There was one band from Cincinati, Fizzgig. They kept thanking us for sticking around, which is pretty normal for smaller shows, I suppose. But then they stopped once in between songs, and the singer and rhythm guitarrist said, (I'm paraphrasing, of course), "No really, thanks for sticking around. Back in Cincinati, this show would have crumbled under these conditions. The bands would've all quit and the audience gone home. This is pretty sweet." Then they went on to say how great Nashville was, and then corrected themselves, saying how great the greater Nashville area was. I screamed out, "Woo! Murfreesboro! Yeah!" The singer pointed at me like, "Yeah! That's the name of the city we're in!"

Feeble Weiner was of course great. I've only seen them a few times, but quite enjoyed each show. I saw them at an open mike on campus right after they got together- they were already awesome then. A couple of moshpits broke out. A couple of guys took their shirts off, including this one guy (nice back), who before the show looked like this incredibly mild mannered guy. Once the band got up there- we're talking like Superman or Mr. Hyde transformation. This guy was jumping around, screaming like a maniac. Apparently a big fan.

I was there with my friend Gilley (I only found out tonight that there's an 'e' in Gilley), and his friend (I guess my acquaintence) Davis. We'd met up at Gilley's place of business. Gilley and I got drunk there, and then Davis drove us to the show. That's not important at all, except that Davis had to drive us back to our cars, and then we had to drive home.

It was fucking cold.

Still is, I assume, although I'm not planning on going out to check.

When we got to the gas station where Gilley works, we started up our cars and headed in. We got coffee to drink (I drank some because I was cold, but that's the main reason that I"m still up now), chilled out a bit. Right before we left for home, this huge truck pulls up next to my car. Gilley and I are standing by the door. Two guys walk in and get some stuff, walk back out. I couldn't help but notice that these guys' eyes were just screaming, "Hey! I'm stoned!" I pointed that out to Gilley.

On my way out to my car, I saw that they had left me a present. Their pipe. Right there next to my car.

Seems like I should end this entry in a really cool way, something to say, Thank you, readers, for making it this far in my late-night caffeine ramblings. So let me just say,

Palabra a tu madre, perro.

Page design by Dust.