Dear sir, please put your shirt on. Dear sir, I came to this rock and roll show to see a rock and roll band, not you, sir. Dear sir, please refrain from hooting during the quiet parts of this song. Dear sir, please, please, although you know nothing about this band, please, sir, please do not yell "Slayer." Dear sir, this band is not Slayer. Dear sir, I am sure that you think you are quite hilarious and your coiterie of hangers-on think that you are quite hilarious and your girlfriend thinks you are quite hilarious and I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry for pointing this out, but I did not pay eighteen dollars to hear your comedy act, sir, I paid eighteen dollars to hear the band on stage right now, playing on stage right now, sir. Dear sir, please put your shirt back on, sir. Dear sir, this is not exactly dance music so please cease rubbing your pelvis against the pelvis of your girlfriend in front of me, with your shirt off. Dear sir, dear, dear sir, please be quiet. Please stop talking, please. Dear sir, I don't know when the appropriate time to make the Arsenio Hall sports bar woof woof woofing noise is, but dear sir, I think that this is not the time. Dear sir, I do not leave my house to go to concerts to see and be seen, to bask in the glorious radiance of you and your friends, and your perfect lives with your parents paying for everything and your jolly date-rapes and such, although your friends are cool, sir, I'm sure, sir. Dear sir, I love music. Music, sir, is one of the few things that manages to elevate my tiny black soul to even the slightest degree, but sir, dear sir, you are making that impossible. Dear sir, do not "mosh" against me. Dear sir, I want you to have a good time, and I am happy that more people are seeing the bands that I love, whether they can appreciate them or not, but dear sir, please put your shirt on.