Tuesday, September 25th, 2018 – 8:06 am: Kill me. Somehow that “Elk Creek Water” at Sandy’s sent my BAC to some aggravated level, so I was tased and arrested by LPD Thursday night after “allegedly” breaking into someone’s basement on 9th street. The arresting officer reported I shit my pants while crying about “Zyklon Bees” or something as they carried me to the squad car.
I awoke in a jail cell to a white gangster dude named DJ Kenny Ken and the most awful headache I have ever had in my entire life. A perfect ailment to accompany Kenny Ken’s dismantling of the unneeded societal foundation that involves police arresting people for possessing enough methamphetamine to be considered “with intent.”
A few times a day in his endless, uneducated, ramblings, we received a meager but boredom stimulating meal. I would savor every bite, thinking about how awesome the festival probably was less than a mile away. At one moment I even closed my eyes and began to hum random notes in an attempt to feel closer to the music, but was quickly interrupted by Kenny Ken’s outburst about how “mad awesome” it would be if I sang on his mix-tape.
The Huskers lost on Saturday. I know that for sure because of the change of jail cell demographics one day, and general disgruntlement of the newer arrivals.
This puts us to Tuesday. You see most of the privileged, white, Husker fans that got arrested for shoving unsuspecting Michigan fans into their exposed pubic hair, an act they called “Wolverining,” were born into a lot of money. So their trials and releases were pushed ahead of the hearings for some drunk guy who “allegedly” burst into a house uninvited, shouting “I’m Jeremy Buckley bitch!”
So I didn’t see a judge until just moments ago. I missed all of Lincoln Calling. God dammit, and I shit my pants this weekend. I also just realized I never called Nelnet to call in sick so I am probably unemployed.
Guess I’ll start counting down the days to next year’s Lincoln Calling. It’s going to be so great! Lincoln is a music city!!!!