Leeds

Leeds was good but weird. The people were cool, the venue was okay, but there was something weird.

The Giants’ truck driver got his gas siphoned during his slumber the night before. A fan got his car broken during the show. The thief pried the car door open. Me and the Giants shared dressing rooms that joined each other and had one kitchen. Each room had two passageways. One passageway went to a dimly lit bathroom with group showers. The other passageway went to a door to outside. In one passageway was a wadded-up diaper.

The truck driver was from Ireland and got in an argument with the bus driver who was a Royalist about the Royal family. I asked if they could hold the conversation until I got my video camera out and that quelled the argument.

My friend, William, wanted to get me a soccer shirt from Leeds.

“They are the best team ever.”

I think they are the equivalent of the LA Clippers. Hurray for Leeds!

A friendly fellow approached me while I was checking my car for thugs and said, “I was going to buy your cd but my wife thought you were too profane.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

I gave him a dvd.

“Does it have profanity?” asked his wife.

“Is dick a bad word here?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes. But that’s all. I think.”

“If there is it’s going in the rubbish.”