wow. i thought that after seeing rollins, i would be totally pumped up, really ready to fight and get some or something. however, as i staggered out of the venue last night... i realised i had been mistaken.
first of all, i am amazed at his vocal fortitude. the man can talk for three hours straight, barely stopping (only 3 drink breaks) and rip on kids that are yelling "sell out" at him and not blink an eye when they get dragged out. whoa. now, not only can he speak for 3 hours, he can yell, scream, jump around, and make ear piercing sound effects to go along with it all. intensity? he's got it.
my fortitude, however, paled in comparison. after 3 hours of listening to this guy, i was about to die. my head was pounding, my eyes were crossing on their own accord, the lights were burning my retina to shriveled little strings, and my whole body was drained from being packed into very small and close together chairs, not moving, and breathing in air that wreaked of beer, was hazy with smoke, and weighed heavy with evaporationg sweat and eyeball juice.
as soon as i got away from the building (the smoke had moved as a cloud along with the rainforest canopy of body fluids outside of the intersection the minute the door opened) i tried to suck in deep, clean breaths of cold air. but my lungs were only taking in little half breaths, like, haha, take that brain! you were the one that made us sit in there and watch that lame-o through billows of smoke and b.o., now you suffer the consequences! ahahah! my vision was hazy. whoa. i could barely walk. that was intense... but ever so worth it.