Bloody knuckles, bloody ears, bloody stool, and bloody vomit

FAIRFIELD — Sadly, Izza went to the New Kids on the Block concert last night.
I’m not proud, but she actually wants to go with me to the UCD hockey game tonight and to the punk rock show tomorrow night so I guess that makes up for it . . . maybe.
If anything can wipe away the shame of paying to witness NKOTB’s synched gyrations and falsetto scuminess I suppose it would be a few high checks, cheap beers and cymbal crashes . . . once again, maybe.
I suppose I can’t really preach. I got drunk last night and punched a hole through a wall because I was pissed off at a video game, so I can hardly be considered a beacon of maturity.
Luckily, I have worked with drywall before so I can fix it without too much hassle.
Maybe my anger is the result of hockey being back. Punk rock and ice hockey do have a way of getting white people all riled up. It’s like sniffing Pixie Stix, but for adults.
I used to not understand or tolerate either but thanks to Dave Baker (hockey) and Pat Solem (punk), I have become a hockey fan and a punk fan.
I, much in the way the apostle Paul, have come around to see the light. No longer will I refer to ice hockey as “ice soccer” and no longer will I refer to punk as “angry teenager music.”
Then again, my GF went to the New Kids on the Block so, once again, I can hardly be considered a beacon of musical maturity.
She did find a $100 bill in the parking lot though; probably left as a sacrifice to the music gods by some poor sap whose succubus of a GF dragged him to the show despite his desperate pleas otherwise.
Or just a drunk, rich gay man.
I told Izza to bring her big purse tonight. That’s the way to go to any UCD hockey game, though, in all honesty, I have only been to one.
Fans are not technically allowed to drink there (it is a family establishment) but nobody cares as long as it’s kept only in the rink where the game is.
Izza brings her big purse, I dump a 12-pack into it (maybe a flask as well for good measure) and everybody is happy. Except perhaps for the person sitting directly in front of me who is forced to listen to my drunken, profanity-laced screaming for three periods.
Heaven forbid, it might go into overtime.
Then it’s on to the Murderland show Saturday. Where I again will spout drunken, profanity-laced rants at the top of my lungs. If I can speak on Sunday, it will be a miracle.
But after two nights of screaming, I doubt anyone will lament my silence.
P.S. Anyone who wants to go to either of the aforementioned events is obviously welcome to attend as well. UCD plays at 8 p.m. tonight (Friday) at Vacaville Ice Center and Murderland plays Saturday at The Stork Club in Oakland.
P.S.S. If ice hockey is not your cup of blood, Murderland also plays tonight in Citrus Heights. Check them out at http://www.myspace.com/murderland.