Ozzy!
Last Friday I got to see Ozzy at the Staples Center. Ozzy as in Ozzy Osbourne. THE Ozzy Osbourne. And Rob Zombie opened for him! THE Rob Zombie. And some really crap-ass band opened for Zombie. THE some really crap-ass band that it honestly was better to walk around the hallways looking for bathrooms than it was to sit in the sky box I was lucky enough to be in.

Staples is not exactly the best place to see a live show. It wasn’t designed for music and the sound system is therefore only so-so. There are, however, no bad seats in the home of the Lakers (and some team called the “Clippers”, especially when you get to be in a private box with two really hot chicks (where “hot chicks” means “dressed sluttily”) that were with two douchebags (where “douchebags” means “probably perfectly nice guys that just didn’t happen to be me, thereby earning my ire through jealousy”).

Also, there were free hot dogs and nachos.

For as yesterday both Ozzy and Zombie are, they were both really good. It was an awesome show. Ozzy did not seem at all drug-addled, and he was moving around the stage like a spry 40-year old (upon Wikipedia inspection, Ozzy is 59. 59!). His voice was good, Zakk Wylde was good (who played at least two Van Halen-inspired guitar solos. It occurred to me at the time that a majority of the people watching the show probably weren’t old enough to appreciate or recognize this fact), and the production was very good…though there weren’t enough big screens.

Zombie was good, too, and had the advantage of a few go-go dancers by his side. And, thank Jebus, he played a lot of White Zombie songs.

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