Ha, of course the chickenhead didn't bother showing up. I have pictures of me with five $100 bills with DJ FLX, the resident at Wet. This place is not only a public place where nothing evil could go down, but is located right downtown, equidistant from everything except possibly the southside rat warrens she uses for quickies with her trucker johns.

In other words, Big Head Sam the Monster is a fake, more of a keyboard fiddler than even AC Cream, the king of the fanboys. I just told here where I'll be and when I'll be there and offered her more money that she's probably seen since the daddy of one of her kids knocked over a liquor store and she still didn't have the stones to show up.