Skampin', Boulder Style

First of all, what kind of venue doesn't allow beer and wine into its auditorium, for godssake?? Seriously.  No, really.  Fuckin' SERIOUSLY.  Although the Chautauqua Auditorium is a totally cool, old place with amazing acoustics, Skamp gives it a thumbs DOWN for no beer- all beer and wine had to be purchased, and consumed, outside.  What the fuck is up with THAT?  I mean, it's not like the auditorium is THAT spectacular-- wooden seats and concrete floors, for fuck's sake.  I've been to some really nice fucking places-- like when I went to see the Cirque du.... Something Something (wasn't Soleil, I know that fo' sho') at.... someplace really NICE in Denver (I can't fucking remember where).  ANYWAY, even THAT place, which was fairly upscale, had beer and wine and assumed you were a responsible adult and allowed you to take it with you to your seat. But in Boulder, in what is basically a glorified BARN, they won't allow it.  And not only that, but they quit selling alcohol after the opening act.  So the entire time I was listening to Hayes Carll (who, turns out, is pretty fucking awesome, by the way), we had to sit there, booze-free.  Who the hell wants to go to a concert, booze-free?  If I'd known I wasn't going to be able to get my drunken swagger on, I'da tossed a flask in my purse and called it a party.

But anyway, aside from losing steam at the end of the show (lack of booze'll do that to a gal), Hayes Carll was FUCKING AMAZING.  He wasn't as good, in my hardly humble opinion, as Joe Pug, but still, he was better than I expected.  I mean, it's tough to be up shown by your opening act, but there is not any one upcoming artist that is as good a songwriter as Joe Pug.  A charming young man, he is incredibly gifted and his words are far beyond his years.  I not only recommend listening to his tender hearted music, I INSIST ON IT.  He has such a grace that is rarely seen, anywhere, in anyone.  I cannot say enough good things about him.  He charmed the shit out of me, and if the circumstances were right (meaning, I got him drunk enough to find me attractive), he coulda charmed the literal pants right off me.  Well, I was wearing a dress, but, well, you get the idea.  SO GO LISTEN TO HIM.  LISTEN TO HIM NOW.  Get on the internets (which, clearly, you're on right now anyway) and search for Hymn #101.  There's actually a music video for it.  I can pretty much guarantee that you're going to fall in love him.  And if not, well, you should be bitch slapped.  In your vagina, with a giant rubber chicken.  BECAUSE HE IS AMAZING.

And, I know that all that shit above ain't all that Skampy, but, well, even ganstas have a heart, right?  The Skamp came out later, after the show, when we hit up Pearl Street, but I can't really discuss any of that without getting arrested in two different counties.  Let's just say that it involved a tuba, two amputees, and some public urination.  And we'll leave it at that.  When the statute of limitations has passed, I'll tell that story.  Till then, think Tijuana and re-donkey-donks.

Peace out, girl scouts.  I'll catch you on the flipside.