Is that today’s newspaper entertainment section? And what’s in that sack? I’ll bet you just came back from Ticketmaster. Don’t try to lie to me now, you have that Stone Temple Pilots ticket buying look in your eyes. I should know. I’m your mother.

Don’t try to give me any of that “I’m over 21,” crap. You live in my house, you obey my rules. None of this going out to see Modest Mouse, Duran Duran and MDFMK every night.

And what’s that bruise on your chin? Have you been moshing again? What have I told you about mosh pits? Just because everyone else does it, does that mean you have to mosh? Which show was it? Was it Saxon? You look at me when I’m talking to you. I’ll bet it was Coal Chamber. I’m going to have to speak to their tour manager.

You really know how to hurt your poor mother. I gave you the best years of my life and how do you thank me? You’re out every night at Handsome Family or Fireballs of Freedom concerts, leaving your poor mother home to shout out the answers to Who Wants To be Millionaire? all by herself. And to think I nursed you until your permanent set of teeth came in. I would have been better off with a dog.

And what do you have in that sack? It better not be any more concert tickets. What? Tickets for Slipknot? Tonight? For Mother’s Day? Ahh, you shouldn’t have. Yes, I love you, too, but… but…

Couldn’t you get better seats?

Oh, and stand up straight and put on a clean shirt. You think the band want’s to see you looking like that?