The Dreamer: A Cult Fan

Sometimes I open my big mouth and put my wee foot inside. This is the case of when I said that The Cult is my favorite band. Is it? Hell no. I was just rolling with a conversation and not paying attention and next thing I knew I was going to the Cult concert in Orlando on a work night. This event could have proven to be horrible, but I made it. There was some seriously good people watching. First, it was the woman who came in looking like a banker and gave the most rigid nasty lap dance to the dude a few aisles up. She then fell. That was the highlight. Then the dudes from Night at the Roxbury showed up. They were both wearing black tee shirts tucked securely into their too tight of jeans. They both were well gelled in their hair and thought they were the shiznit. One of them, "Ed", asked everyone on his way in "Dude, are you ready for the Cult? I MEAN REALLLY EMOTIONALLY READY FOR THE CULT!!!!!" Oh he asked everyone. SO you know I just made it worse and asked him. And, the answer was yes. Ed was ready for the Cult. He then told me and my friend, the serious Cult fan, that if we need anything...and he means annnything, to tap him on the shoulder. And, by the way his friend was George. (that's what he said, I am not just being out of order with my story). George also called me out on not knowing one name of any Cult song...I was outed by a particularly gay man. AWESOME. (not that there is anytime wrong with that)

So, the Cult started and Ed apparently wasnt just there to watch the band, he was in the band, featured on...yes you got it...air guitar. And he was serious. Very serious. George, however, was featured as the male stripper. He moved like he was listening to Marvin Gaye instead of the Cult and pushed his hands all over his own body and shook his hips a lot. A lot. So George took it to the pole while Ed was litterally with the band.

It was pure entertainment. I am still not a Cult fan, but I will had a good time. That's it for now. Holla back. And, still, where's Fran?