Hey you young kids up there — yeah I’m talking to YOU. The ones two and three and four rows in front of us and beside us and all around us at the Ryman Auditorium tonight? Maybe it hasn’t occurred to you but when the house lights go down and you’re Tweeting or texting or emailing or burping or farting those pearls of wisdom that simply cannot wait two hours, it’s like fucking laser beams in the eyeballs of every person sitting behind you. Because in case you hadn’t noticed, the rest of the room is dark and your phone is not. So all we can see is the screen of your phone.
And let me add, those pearls of wisdom are pretty fucking lame and most definitely can wait until the show is over or at least the 15 seconds it would take you to walk out into the goddamn hallway.
Seriously, I’m so over people being rude. It’s this Randian notion that I’m the only person in the world that matters. It’s destroying this country.
Offa my damn lawn.