i made it ten miles high.

In case of the very likely event that you have not read this website in the past two years, the Nine Inch Nails show at Cleveland is coming up in less than a week. Having never been to a Nine Inch Nails concert before, I must use what little time I have remaining to prepare for a night of complete chaos. First things first: getting to Cleveland. I drove there last Saturday to make sure it actually exists, and I think I can safely say it's the worst city I've ever visited. In fact, I hope it breaks off from the rest of Ohio and sinks into Lake Erie. Come to think of it, I hate Ohio in general. I can only think of about four people in Ohio I would trust. The rest are probably Gypsies who make a living off of selling postcards for tourists who happen to be "passing through." I really have no explanation for why Cleveland is the worst city I've ever been to (with the exception of Buffalo; nothing is worse than Buffalo), but I'm sure there is some scientific evidence that can back up my case. I'm not saying Pennsylvania is much better than Ohio, either, but at least we have the Appalachians. Next thing: parking. Parking is a nightmare, especially if you've spent all your life living in a suburb where everybody finds and uses the nearest Wal-Mart as a transit hub. In Cleveland--more specifically, the Gund-Arena-Sector of Cleveland--there are parking garages everywhere. However, about 98% of them are not available for the general public (the other 2% are blocked by some asshole's SUV). They are reserved for "preferred customers." I assume they're referring to the Illuminati, so I won't talk any more about this topic because they'll probably track me down and throw me off a cliff. After that comes: Getting into the show. As you know, most Nine Inch Nails fans are Goths who like to break stuff and do other dangerous things such as flashing the middle finger. I'll have to battle through legions of these freaks in order to make it to my seat. Fortunately I've taken plenty of Tai-Chi and I'm a certified championship shadow boxer. Once we're in we have to: enjoy the show like we're going to die after it's over, because we probably will. My seat isn't located on the floor, which means I have a slightly lower chance of being killed, but my chances of survival are nonetheless pretty low. If worst comes to worst, and I've deemed my destruction imminent, I'll probably just rush the stage and jump on Trent's back. Since I probably won't make it out of the show alive, I'm not going to write any more. At the moment all I have to do is stock up on plenty of Red Bull and black eye liner. I'll try to bring back a picture or two, if I can get my camera past the arena gestapo. Until next time, FIGHT THE POWER.