Heaven forbid that any act I'm into is seeking a show palace out in Phoenix's paved over backyard, Mesa, Arizona
Short of a Smiths, one-show-only reunion, I will never venture here just to park my happy ass 3 miles from the venue, plant my ass in an ocean of unenthusiastic knuckleheads who insist on sitting on their ledge in lieu of standing, and praying for a geyser of alcohol to emerge from Mesa's rancid underground so that I may indulge in a beverage past 9 o'clock.
No proper show should EVEN START by 10pm, much MUCH less end by that time. WTF? How in the world did this venue even get approved? This is like getting a chance to party on the tour bus with Van fucking Halen, only they decided to reunite with Gary Cherone as their frontman and they all were experimenting with homosexuality that week and drank Mr Pibb instead of Maker's Mark. A freaking nightmare this place!