Saturday, January 27, 2007

bdo retrospective

fuck me dead, but i am far too old for this shit.

see, i thought that the fantastic line-up was enough to make bdo worth my while, but i can promise you bunnies, i'm never doing another bdo again.

the crew was me, deviant, citronella, daddy-o(-to-be), small-c and mr j. i had met daddy-o and small-c before on the black label society gig, but mr j was a new acquaintance.

there was something very hunter-s-thompson-esque about mr j. he turned out to be a truly funny and witty cunt who had an impeccable talent of hooking us up with whatever was needed. whenever there was drama, he'd just take off and a few seconds later show up with the goods whether it was train tickets, drinks, drugs or a cab that was required. quite impressive i tell you.

we started the day with a big luxurious brekky at deviant's place and head over to the sydney show grounds around midday. it was when we got on the train that i realised that the day might in fact turn out to be a disaster.

see, while planning the day i had entirely forgotten about the fact that i hate cunts. and when i say that, i mean that i REALLY HATE CUNTS. and the train, well, the train was full of them. loud, annoying and just asking for me to strangle them one by one using my bare hands.

when we arrived, we realised that not only were there intolerable ppl on the train, the fucken place was loaded with them. 55 000 cunts: drugged up, dressed in ridiculous outfits, wearing flags, carrying on, foaming in the mouth and all of them stuffed within the show ground fences and we were right there locked in with them. fuck.

the first act we saw with deviant was that 1 guy. he was just this insane mofo with the mother of all sideburns playing a metal pipe and it was fantastic.

then it was evermore, lily allen, eskimo joe and john butler trio. half way through the john butler trip gig, my feet started to resign and i began to realise that my heels - no matter how low they were - were not in fact a good idea for a day long rock fest.

we decided to take a break when the killers started and went to queue for some piss. at this stage it began to dawn on me that the theme of the day might not be music after all, but queuing instead. we had to queue into the show grounds, queue to get piss, queue to take a piss, queue to see the gigs, queue to get out of the gigs, queue to get out of the show grounds, queue to get train tickets, queue to get into the train and the final drama: queue to get a cab home. and i fucken HATE queuing.

mr j and citronella were on a mission of their own for most of the night and daddy-o was going hard with small-c which left me and deviant chillin out by ourselves.

we saw two chicks digging in on what looked like the most delicious burgers ever, and they pointed up the road and told us to look for the booth filled with 'amish looking ppl'. cracking up and thinking that this was never going to work we headed up the hill, and sure enough we saw a food stall full of people who could only be described as 'amish looking'. and fuck me that burger was delicious.

the mosh pit gates were bearing red lights from the beginning of the killers gig, so we had already decided to watch the muse and tool gigs from aside. then, totally unexpectedly at the beginning of the muse gig the lights went green and we decided to have a go at it. we got all the way through the crowd with no problems what so ever and just walked in. which was rather surprising considering that a couple of hrs earlier small-c had mauled near death attempting to enter the mosh pit.

the muse gig was great, but i couldn't really enjoy it through the pain and by the time tool was about to begin i was already over it. the cunts all around us were just way too fucken drugged up to act like human beings and ppl were pushing and shoving and just being fucken arseholes.

deviant did his best to keep all the cunts away from me but it soon turned out impossible and we decided to back up a fair bit to find a better spot. the pain was already getting unbearable and then some fucken fat cunt stomped on my foot and i think i ended up twisting my ankle at the same go. with some difficulty i restrained from head butting him and just cursed out loud in finnish.

after the first few tracks of the tool gig we decided that we had seen enough and headed out of the pit. i was able to limp up the stairs and we sat through the rest of the gig. at this stage my ankle was hurting more than enough and my feet were so sore that poor deviant had to carry me for the rest of the night.

i felt like a princess being carried around by my man and that cheered me up quite a bit. he was being the perfect gentleman all night and took care of me just like he should. it was prolly the only thing keeping me from going apeshit as the ppl around were really getting on my nerves.

next time i want to see a live band, i'll go and see their gig and their gig alone. no more this fucken cattle drive entertainment amidst 55 000 wankfaces that i'd happily see dead.


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