Yesterday, July 17th was THE day, folks- it was my very first Rob Zombie show and I must say, he rocked the motherfucker! (Singing 'Sick Bubblegum to myself quietly). S ended up skipping the show because she had a very bad case of vagina-itis. I'm TOTALLY joking- she was really sick- all weekend, too. The only thing worse than running a fever is running a fever in the 110 degree Oklahoma summer. But Wenifer and I persevered, braving the heat and the rowdy unwashed to see Mr. Zombie along with Five Finger Death Punch and a few other bands I can't remember.
First we visited Trula, a restaurant in the Mayo Hotel, courtesy of my darling hubby who is just this minute finding out that he treated Wenifer and I to a lovely dinner of beef carpaccio and crab claw cocktail. Thank you honey- it was divine and totally worth your money. The real fun began when we headed to the show- let me tell you it wasn't called the 'Hot as Hell Festival' for nothing- with the heat index it was somewhere around eleventy thousand degrees. Give or take.
Naturally, Wenifer and I were a tad overdressed. Because we had shirts on. I'm not playing- the first thing we saw when we walked through the gate were boobies. This was of course after a security guard checked my cowboy boots for a switchblade knife. I believe that he was happy and impressed that it was Mac Dazzleglass Lipgloss, instead. Everyone at the show was hot, drunk, dirty and stinky. And some people were pissed off. Probably because we had to tinkle in port a potties, which is why I wore boots in the first place. I, however, was the happiest of happy. And that's what matters most. I was even the happiest of happy when my new purple dye job turned my forehead a lovely shade of lilac. I didn't care- it totally matched my dress.
Five Finger Death Punch were fantastic, but I was there for zombies. By the time my zombie boys took the stage, I had wormed my way to the front row (I don't know how, but I do it at almost every show I go to. I'm sneaky like that.) It didn't really matter to me that my 'front row' just happened to be very, very far stage right because... that's where Piggy D was! Most of the time, anyway. I was pretty far over yonder, but I still had a most excellent view. I even saw Mr. Rob Zombie up close and although my heart is loyal to Piggy, I also now have a huge crush on RZ! As if I needed yet another rock star crush! (Couldn't help it because he's gorgeous up close and totally charismatic. Plus, his wife is my age and she is perfection. So even if he was butt ugly and uncharming, I would love him just for being married to a fabulous woman. That's fucked up.)
As the zombies wrapped up the show and were heading into encoreville, I looked behind me and noticed that Wenifer, although still impeccably groomed and beautiful, looked like she wasn't feeling well. We left before the encore...right after I learned how sick she had been ALL evening. She didn't tell me that she had the same cooties S had, complete with fever and terrible body aches. Apparently Wenifer loves me more than she loves a lot of things...like comfort and health. Or maybe she loves Rob Zombie more than all of us. Which is fucked up, too. Either way, I think Wenifer is one of the most awesome people on the planet.
To Wenifer: There is nobody I would rather be hot, sweaty, hosed off, purple faced and dirty with than you. You complete me. Well, you and S complete me...because alone, we need helmets. But together...we're fucking perfection! I love you!