Maybe deep down I'm a sick person. Not like Pete Townshend kiddie-porn sick, but sick like acid reflux. All morning long I've been fighting the pukes, and sure there is a small army of vodka fighting a larger force of tonic in my belly, but I'd like to think I'm past the days of hangover puking. Yes, I know - wishful thinking, but let a girl dream. While my day off was spent watching 10 straight hours of Jerry Orbach and Sam Waterson, my evening managed to spiral out of some unwanted control.

The night kicked off somewhere around 9pm when I met Shannon and Nicholas upstairs in Stanton Social. Warren tended the bar and made me delicious margaritas and offered us some tasties on the menu. I sampled the White Bean Crostini along with a Kobe Beef and Lobster Roll Slider. It all provided a magically delicious party in my mouth along with a solid base for a night of crazy drinking and balls to the wall rock n' roll.

As Shannon and I cruised into the club, we were met by a pile of folks like Dee, Kyle, Beacheros, Brendan, Lil Beacheros, Tumblehawk, Mr. Han(ly), Jinners, Mike and Liz. When we finally reached the back corner there were even more folks there to witness the Wolfmother including Kelley, Susan, Sarah, David Fricke (ok, he wasn't with us, but he was back there rocking), Bolog (Happy Birthday), Baz, Rory and Chris. Yes, everyone was there and I couldn't give less of a shit. I was there for Wolfmother and nothing else. With a serious buzz brewing in my veins, the band hustled to the stage and proceeded to knock the dick straight out of my mouth for the second night in a row.

Wolfmother blasted out the same set as the night before, and even through the Northsix show was a bit crazier, I'm proud of the folks at the Mercury Lounge. There was enough fist pumping to prove Manhattan isn't a bunch of arm-crossed, A&R giblets. In between sips of vodka I managed to head bang along with nearly every jam. They didn't go off the space jam deep end last night, but it was still very impressive. Anyone with access to the full-length should send me one. You'll get free press you can show to your boss and get a raise and shit. I'm mad influential. Right.

After the show, Shannon and I returned to Stanton Social to finish the night with Enzo and some margaritas. The later it got the harder it was to stay on my barstool so somewhere around 2am (shot in the dark), I walked home. I'm attributing all the goon hands perpetrated on Christen's face to all the alcohol playing around in my belly. Sorry Christen!

For the record, yes, a Black Lips dude peed in his own mouth and spit it on the crowd or so I was told. Gross.