Breaking News: Chris Daughtry ate a Cheese Pizza

Okay, so I know there are probably literally thousands of myspace users out there right now who are soooooo mad at me for not liveblogging the Daughtry Day festivities like I said I would. But your anger only makes me laugh at your ignorance.

I, Patrick Tutwiler Boy Reporter, in an effort to provide you, dear readers, with the most eXtreme Daughtry experience ever, went far beyond the limits of journalistic integrity and infiltrated the exclusive pre- and after-parties hosted by Honda's finest himself. This feat renders all your complaints moot just as surely as it blows away all your expectations.

Posing as a common waiter, at a bourgeois wine establishment called The Press, in the newly-gentrified South Side neighborhood of Greensboro, I managed to get within inches of Chris Daughtry several times. He wore dark khol around his eyes, like an Egyptian, and his jeans were torn, yet new at the same time. He never once took off his embroidered tobogin, and he hugged everyone. I was armed with only my camera phone, with which I both took pictures (coming soon) and communicated with my support team stationed at Riojas.(note: my support team was only marginally supportive. I basically did everything myself.)

It was daunting work. In fact, after 10 hours, it became so excruciatingly boring that I had to leave. Nonetheless, I did get some super hi-def pics of Daughtry's strech SUV. But those are for another post...