There were a lot of winners at Dokken Day. My friend Shannon rocked out so hard that she broke her foot. Some of the guys actually got their guitars and learned some sweet 80s metal ballads that we all sang along to. My brother and sister-law traveled three hours to party with people that they had never met. Very, very strong effort from everyone.
But my buddy Jason, he actually wore a pink cod piece with an iron-on of Don Dokken on it. To me, that's the big winner. To me, that's not fucking around. Jason did not fuck around when it came representing DD...he didn't have time for it. Neither did his wife, Kristy, who brought it full bore. They both showed up ready to kick ass. They were about to rock...and I salute them.
To you, Jason and Kristy, I have to say...fuckin' a. fuckin' a.
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I gotta say that missing Dokken Day was like voting for Palin or Barabas...it leaves a semenish tast in my mouth that is not easily washed out with Scope or vodka. If I have my way, I will never miss it again.
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