If you like to check out live music, St. Louis is one of the shittier big cities you can live in. A lot of big tours will go to Kansas City and Chicago and won't even bother coming here.

This week has been an exception though. Wednesday night, I saw Radiohead here, and then last night, I saw Wilco. Which is just insane. If this was 2001, I'd feel pretty confident in saying they're the two best bands in the world. And it's not like there's been a whole lot good that's happened since 2001.

Radiohead Wednesday night was in one of these shitty outdoor amphitheaters. You can read all about my experience there in the review I wrote yesterday for my own site.

Beer there was expensive as shit, so I came up with this plan where I was gonna drink three huge draft beers at once, so I could get good and fucked up without doing too much damage to my checking account, which is about as close to zero as it's been since I started here at XXL. (How about that for progress!)

So I did that, and I went to my seat out on the lawn, which was probably not the best move at that juncture. As soon as I got there, I realized there was way more Bud Light inside of me than my bladder was gonna be able to contain. So I had to get right back up and wade through this huge sea of cargo pants-clad cracka-ass crackas to get to the pisser.

On my way back, I tripped and accidentally kicked over this drink on these people. It was one of these big-ass frozen margaritas in a fruity souvenir cup. Beer there was $9, so I don't even want to know how much that shit cost. But you could tell it was the kind of shit where they were counting on guys showing up with a broad (obviously I didn't), and the broad being like, "Ooh, margaritas!" and the guy would have to come out of his pocket upwards of $20 for some shit that probably doesn't even have very much alcohol in it.

The worst would be if you bought a chick some shit like that, and she had the sheer balls to not have sex with you afterwards. Which is why I'm actually kinda glad I was there with a group of mostly dudes. If a chick tried to pull some shit like that with me, her ass would be on YouTube right about now, telling stories out of school about what went down after the concert. Just like this girl.

But I digress.

Not only did I kick the drink over, but I actually kinda got it all over this girl. So my first thought was, "Damn, this cracka-ass is about to jump up and have to get his feelings hurt in front of all of these people. I'm not trying to go to jail tonight over some bullshit." But he didn't. I was basically just like, "Aww shit, man. My bad." And he was like, "No, it's cool man." And I just went about my business.

Sweet!

Of course my desperately fragile ego would like to think that this was because I'm roughly the size of Suge Knight, and with a similar haircut even (though obviously I'm not hitting the gym too often these days), but who knows. One thing I do know is that, if this had been a black event, it would've been a way different story. As expensive as those motherfucking drinks were? People have been shot for way less.

Which is one of the reasons why we can't have shit. All week long, mofos have been getting on me to discuss Suge Knight getting laid the fuck out as if he was Latarian Milton's grandma at a Wal-Mart (is that you, Mos Def?). If I was on top of my game, I probably would've done a post on it earlier in the week, but it can be difficult for me to bring myself to get out of bed before noon these days, and the new guy ended up beating me to it.

And anyway, I felt like this is one of those situations where the picture pretty much told the entire story: Suge Knight got caught slipping and got knocked right the fuck out. Obviously he was already halfway gone on drink and drugs, or got caught off guard or something. Which is not to say that this guy who knocked him out isn't kind of a bad-ass, but come on. This is Suge Knight we're talking about. I'm sure he could still beat the crap out of pretty much anyone.

Or maybe I just didn't get it. It could be the case that this utter fascination with someone getting beat up is yet another one of these traits that you pick up in one of these god-awful inner city high schools, where the really smart kids might read on an eighth grade level and 3/4ths of the kids there drop out, and which I obviously would've missed out on. It's not so much that don't see the utter hilarity in watching someone catch a bad one, but I wonder what it really proves at the end of the day.

What do you gladiators think? Is not having to worry about mofos trying to beat you up one of the myriad benefits of being surrounded by mostly white people, or is this yet another one of the many examples of my failure to understand black culture? Also, if it was your girlfriend I kicked a drink on, what would you have done? Speak on it.

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