Motorgoofy
AKA
Mickeyhead
Or, How the Magic Kingdom Thrashed its Melon
It started at about 6:45 in the A.M. I needed my cute little daughter to paint my fingernails black, otherwise I thought I wouldn’t fit in as well as I could have with the crowd I was going to be in. So my sweet daughter did my nails, and I went off to work to fill in for the wifeykins. I had convinced her just the night before to stay home and study for her CSET exam, which in two weeks time was fast approaching, and she agreed, hesitantly I might add, and so I was work bound.
I made it to work and hung out doing the central supply thing, until the call of the road was too much to bear and at that time I made my way to the car, and so out of the land of work a day drudgery and into the land of fun car rides to the land of thrash metal mania. You see, I had the golden ticket and was ready and willing to have my ears assaulted by none other then the most furious and rockin’ band ever to grace this planet. The band Motorhead.
They were at the House of Blues in Anaheim and as the location was quite strange and bizarre being next to and designed by the team that brought you the happiest place on earth I was intrigued that Motorhead was going to be there. But as I am the tye-dyed informer it was my duty to be there and report back to you all. Not to mention the fact that I was insanely ready to have my eardrums blown out and my sternum rearranged by professionals. So I hit the road with water and a few energy drinks (from the dollar store no less) and was on the road by twelve.
