When I arrived, Eddie Van Halen (+ 30 pounds) was polishing off Eruption and three guys in KISS makeup were polishing off some beers next to me at the bar. I got a great shot of Ace & Co. (see right) of KISS Nation, a band I'd seen before. I still remember laughing at the girls who got weak in the knees for guys dressed in clown paint and spandex, pretending to be people they weren't. But hey, good for the boys.

After a 15-minute break the Bon Jovi tribute band, Bad Medicine, came on. They played well and knew all of Bon Jovi's song variations for live shows. I played all those songs on my drums when I was 16 and 17 years old, and there's no doubt with a little practice I could be up there, too. But did I want to? Yeah, probably. But not for a living.

Not everyone in the crowd of maybe 750 or so was enamored with the Bon Jovi music. I heard a bunch of people yelling, "Get off the stage!" and raising their middle fingers at the band. Perhaps this was the much tougher crowd that came to see G 'n' R's tribute, Mr. Brownstone. (Irony alert: Dissing one fake band because another fake band is cooler.)

One particular group of drunk guys caught my attention for repeatedly giving Bad Medicine the finger while being separated from them by a stage and hundreds of people. They were caricatures of their own drunken selves — hugging each other and high-fiving for no apparent reason other to celebrate their on-break-from-the-wife drunkenness and safety in numbers and distance. So I took pictures of them, one after the other, hoping they would catch me (which they did) and wonder, "Why does that guy want a picture of us?" The answer is to give them the attention they wanted. (See below.)

While waiting for Mr. Brownstone to come out, we got a quickie form Corn Mo, a total nut who launched a three-song Motley Crue set with an accordion version of Home Sweet Home. The guy's a character, but that's no flaw. During his set, I had the pleasure of standing next to three young drunkards who took turns annoying the two girls in front of us and hugging each other. Sensing that was the only action they were going to get, one of them said, "I so want to get into a fight tonight." (Remember my formula: White Guys + Alcohol - Pussy = Fights)

And I so hope they did get into a fight, with the other three idiots. I hope they all had knifes, simultaneously punctured each other's chests and died before doctors wasted their time on them.

We have brave men and women spilling blood overseas to help humanity triumph over the ills of intolerance, and yet, in the city that's supposed to lead the world in diversity and strength, we have people who flip off well-intentioned musicians and get their jollies off of violence. They are of no use to our society. And I will expose them as such every opportunity I get.

Presenting Some Assholes at the Show:

• See all 19 photos from the night