eleven

My suck knob was dialed all the way up last night. Right to eleven. Ten was off the map. Hills from Heck with Fatmarc presented by Onkel Mike from Amerika took my already TNT-ed legs and put them in a sausage grinder.

Thank god there was beer, nachos, and fish tacos afterward. And remember, whenever you have a chance to be the creepy guy in the background of someone's photograph - take it. You will be immortalized.