Morrissey has finally announced plans to tour the US, and on October 29th, when thousands of starry-eyed kids fill the Will Rogers Colisseum in Ft Worth, Chris and I will be 10th row center.
Last time I saw Morrissey was a few years ago in Boston. After each of his wardrobe changes (6 total, by the way) he would throw a sweaty towel or t-shirt into the crowd, and 20-30 screaming fans would bite, tear, scratch, and claw their way to it. Every shirt and towel ended up in 200 tiny pieces, each of which would go home with an overjoyed fan. Back then, I watched from the side of the stage and laughed at the poor fans who were trampled for a piece of cloth soaked with the sweat of an aged drama queen. This time, I will be right in the thick of it.
And you can bet I'll have my claws ready.
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Red Sox West Coast trips are exhausting. But go to sleep when you could watch them clobber the Choakland A's three games in a row? Never.
I formally take back any and all statements I made about wanting to play the Twins in the ALDS.
Give me Oakland.
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