Running the #s on Bob Log III’s performance last night.

# of times Bob Log III said “Goddamn”: approx. 39
# of times Bob Log III called the crowd “motherfuckers”: 6
# of times Bob Log III praised his own guitar virtuosity: 3
# of times Bob Log III lauded the sound of his guitar: 4
# of times Bob Log III commanded the crowd not to look at his gold-lamé-jumpsuited ass as he fiddled with his gear: 2
# of motorcycle helmets with telephone receiver attached to it worn by Bob Log III: 1
# of songs Bob Log III played: approx. 20
# of songs Bob Log III played that jabbed a cattle prod into a genre—blues rock—that’s seen much better days while squeezing maximum excitement out of riffs whose wrinkles have liver spots: approx. 20
# of instruments Bob Log III played last night: 3—electric guitar, kick drum, tambourine.
# of times Bob Log III got in an inflatable boat and “crowd-surfed” while playing a song in a reclining position: 1
# of times Bob Log III raised this right fist in triumph and shouted “Yeah!” or “Woo!”: approx. 31
# of times Bob Log III claimed not to have made a mistake during his set last night: 2
# of times Bob Log III said, “Just for a second I forgot where the fuck I was.”: 2
# of times Bob Log III pleaded, “Come on, Seattle, sit on the band. It doesn’t hurt.”: 2—one woman eventually went onstage and sat on Bob Log III’s right knee while he played a song. She bounced on it throughout the whole tune with a smile on her face. But, really, Seattle? Only one woman had the urge to saddle up on Mr. Log III’s hyperactive lower limb? I realize it was a Monday, but, jeez…
# of times Bob Log III made me think that he is the speed-metal equivalent of this hell-raisin’ blooz-rocque shit: 3
# of drinks fans gave to Bob Log III while he was onstage after he announced, “I’ll play a guitar all night if I’m surrounded by drinks.”: 3
# of times Bob Log III made me think, “Damn, this is almost as funky as the Meters.”: 3
# of times Bob Log III made me think, “Bob Log III is ripping blues out of the ground by its roots, spanking its ass black and blue, and making it strut around the joint as if it were almost brand-new.”: approx. 13
# of times Bob Log III made me think, “Bob Log III’s putting the ‘sly’ into ‘slide guitar.’”: 4
# of times Bob Log III said, “This song is about my squiggly little boss—my finger,” and proceeded to strum the bloody hell out of his ax: 1
# of times Bob Log III’s guitar sounded like Leo Kottke on blast: 3
# of times that Bob Log III proclaimed, probably not inaccurately, that “This is the fastest motherfucking song in the world.”: 1
# of bass-y rumbles that made me think of My Bloody Valentine’s “holocaustic” bridge in “You Made Me Realise”: 2
Finally, a comment about Bob Log III by a patron unfamiliar with Bob Log III: “That’s one person?! That is hardcore.”