I know it’s probably going to do little good to post this for two reasons:

  1. The people who really need to see it won’t
  2. On the off chance that the sort of people who need to see it end up finding this post and reading it will say “I am not one of those people” and ignore the entire thing. You know what, you are one of those people, and while your friends might find you totally cool, you are a complete and total asshole and the rest of us don’t like you and really don’t want to put up with your shit. You make things miserable for the rest of us.

It has become somewhat of a yearly event for me to attend the Rockstar Uproar Festival. For those that don’t know it’s an all day rock music event. 2010 and 2011 I went to see Avenged Sevenfold. This year, I went to see Fozzy, who were incredible. Hopefully the next time they are booked for Uproar they will get main stage time instead of “second stage” time. This year my friend Danielle went with me as well as my 14 and 15 year old daughters. My 14 year old is a small girl – just under 5 five feet and doesn’t weigh more than 80 lbs. My 15 year old was recently diagnosed with MS and isn’t on medication for it at the moment because her doctor wants to wait as long as possible to put her on meds because none of the MS drugs have been tested on anyone under 18.

Now, I realize that I live in Virginia, albeit closer to DC than Hicksville, but we do have our share of redneck assholes “good ol’ boys (and gals)” who spend their spare time drinking beer and watching NASCAR. I am talking about the group of rednecks that served as the stereotype for everyone of Jeff Foxworthy’s jokes. I am talking about this guy:

This guy becomes a belligerent asshole when drunk and thinks he’s the shit and everyone should be glad that he’s present. He can do no wrong, in his eyes or in the eyes of his equally redneck friends (especially the girls he hangs out with because they think he’s the pick of the redneck litter).

He will, for the remainder of this blog post, be referred to as Asshole.

Asshole shows up at Uproar this year (there is one there every year). His “girl” and her friends were there with him and they ended up right in front of us at the barricade for Fozzy. He couldn’t be bothered, for whatever reason, to show up with the girls and had to come find them. That’s fine. Working your way through a crowd to find your party is one thing. A nice polite “Excuse me, I am trying to get to my party” goes along way to getting to who you need to get to while in a pit. It worked during the NIN Survivalism tour in the pit so I am 99% sure it would work at Uproar at the Jager stage in a much smaller pit environment.

Well, being a drunk redneck asshole, this fact is lost on Asshole and he violently pushed his way to the front to get with his party. Seriously, there was less aggression in the mosh pit (and it was…well…a mosh pit) than there was in this guy pushing his way through…and the irony is, he and his party didn’t know a single thing that Fozzy performed. Chances are they were just there because they heard that “the wrastler Chris Jericho was in a band” and wanted to see him up close and personal. He pushed between me and my teenage girls with such force that he knocked me off balance and damn near push both my girls over.

Yes, I understand that I have entered a mosh pit and therefore I may have my nose broken. I have been in a pit before, I know what to expect. I also know what is acceptable.

This dude violated the cardinal rule of the pit:


Here’s the worst part of it. The band was not playing. We were still waiting for Fozzy to come on stage and he comes barreling through the crowd violently pushing and shoving people out of the way to get to where he needed to be and believed that saying “excuse me” gave him permission to act as he was and that yelling that he was sorry made up for it when I called him on his douchbaggery. The thing was he had to interject himself and into the conversation I was having with my friend who went with us trying to negotiate us moving around just a bit where the girls were between us and could see. He snapped at me that it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see if someone taller than him got in front of him and that was life. I lost it.

In my mind all I seen was a full grown drunk redneck asshole being excessively aggressive with two teenage girls who felt that he was more important than any one person there and was entitled to people kissing his ass. The foot tall purple mohawk says I don’t kiss anyone’s ass, especially that of someone who can’t act like a decent human being toward other people.

And yes, I called him on it, on how he aggressively put his hands on minor girls. Everyone within two feet heard me. Of course he went off like he was in the right and had all manner of business behaving like he did because he said “excuse me” and he gave me a weak and loud apology as if that were supposed to make everything better. I don’t care if I make a scene. People look at me weird every day of my life. I don’t care. You can’t embarrass me. Trust me on this.

First and foremost it is my job to protect my children…and one of those children I had with me is disabled and trying very hard to live a normal life and part of that meant going to Uproar this year. She asked to go months ago. If I did not feel that being in a pit environment wasn’t safe I wouldn’t have taken them up to the barricade area.

For the most part there are three groups of people that I run into.

  1. The group that thinks that my hair and clothes are just part of the current fashion and pay me no mind
  2. Those who want to know what products I use on my hair (one dude couldn’t figure out how to get his ‘hawk to stay up).
  3. Those I scare/intimidate.  This group of people I find odd. I asked my husband about it and he told me it probably has to do with the original stereotypes that went with The Punk Revolution of the 70’s and some people remember that. These are the people that realize that pissing off someone like me could be bad for their well being. Now, I am not in the habit of punching people who piss me off but there are those times that, depending the day I have had and the offense committed, they will end up in a corner somewhere crying and licking their ego wounds and whining to their friends.

Apparently being drunk makes you both brave and stupid. Common sense and self preservation should tell people they shouldn’t be going around screwing with other people (especially their kids) not having any idea how they are going to react to it.  Everyone who knows me will verify that I am downright terrifying when pissed off. Completely unhinged doesn’t even start to describe it.

Asshole’s bitch even said she would hit me or whatever (her quote was “I’ll hit a bitch”) where her pet asshole didn’t have to hit a chick. I gave  her my “Go ahead, bring it. It will be the last thing you do.” look. She was at least smart and backed down. Asshole on the other hand didn’t get the message to get out of my face until she pulled on his arm.

I now understand why 99% of women/girls bring a male friend (friend/boyfriend/husband/brother or other relative) to concerts with them. It cuts down on the amount of bullshit that you have to deal with.