So I get home from work one day and a delicious note is posted on my fridge from my roommate and her husband:
"Hey I just met you
And this is crazy
We're printing off concert tickets
So join us maybe?"
Fuck. Yes.
Work in the morning? Irrelevant.
It was a two day concert and they had already bought tickets to go only to find out the day of the concert that military get in for free, so the tickets were just kinda extra. One for me, and one for some other random ass dude who's month they totally made.
Anywho, I saw awesome bands like Foxy Shazam, whose front man ate about six lit cigarettes at once, Gun Point, P.O.D. who I had been listening to since middle school, and to wrap up that first night, Hollywood Undead. It turned out to be an all around marvelous show.
I got to the front of the crowd save for maybe about five people and the music was loud and I made a strange family to rock out with. Anyone else ever have that happen? You're in a crowd so packed of about two to three thousand people and all of a sudden the closest ones touching your elbows and backs are your closest friends.
The next night was even more delicious. Not music-wise, I'll admit. Foxy totally made my life the first night. The second night was New Medicine, Covo, Halestorm, Chivelle, and Evanescence to wrap up the whole schebang.
But either way, we started out the night by figuring out how to pile six people into a four-seater jeep. I'll have you know it can be done. On the way there, the three air force buddies of Rich's (Georgia's husband) sat ass to ass in the back. We'll call them White Boy, Satanist, and Chocolate. I rode shotty with Georgia on my lap. Luckily and surprisingly, we didn't get pulled over. Got to the concert, saw some faces, then made our move for the front. Slowly but surely we were to make it by the time Evanescence played.
Rich snuck in some gummy bears and sour parch kids. At a concert like that, it's unavoidable for everyone to be asking, "What are they laced with?!" To which the response was always "nothing," but not like anyone ever believed us anyway. Rich also filled up his camel pack with water, and when you're so far into that crowd, people were paying dollars for sips of his water. SMART.
Again, we found our own little family, a different one from the previous night, but oh so entertaining. One was a gal who's name slips me. She told us, "If you wanna get to the front, just call out some random name like you know them. Like this," and all of a sudden at the top of her lungs, "BIIILLL!!! HEY BILLL!! I'M COMING BUDDY!!" I never thought I laughed so much in my life.
"Wait no no, that name isn't common enough. Lemme try again, " She said, " BOB!! FUCKING BOB! HERE I AM!!" and everyone was looking around to see who the hell she was talking to. It was hilarious.
Our little amoeba of a group went from standing somewhat next to each other to being single file ass-to-crotch in the crowd. The best way to travel was a conga line. I told White Boy in front of me, "Sorry if I get a boner. There's kinda no avoiding you feeling it." He laughed and started telling me about how awesome Halestorm was. I'd never heard of them before that night, and I tell you what, their drummer made me realize why I loved dating drummers in the first place.
All that passion. All that hair. Mmm.
So I bought a cd after the show, autographed and everything.
It was kinda nice, being around all that testosterone again. Made me miss Wyoming... a little. But just a little. If you ever repeat that, I'll cut your pecker off.
anywho, then Chocolate hands me his wedding ring and his Aviators and starts in on a mosh pit. There was no mercy on my shoes or pants. Then the other two guys tried to jump on the side of me where the mosh was happening. Protect the women? Whatever the reason, it was a delightful courtesty and I wish men were really like that in the real world anymore.
That's right, this is my damn blog and I will haterade all I want to.
So more moshing, women getting on men's shoulders, other men (and myself) screaming at them "TITS OR GTFO" mwahhaha.....
Eventually we all got to the front gate. I will not disperse as to how we managed, but we did. We found a truck load of little eleven year olds up there. Rich, Georgia, and I formed a wall around them to protect them from the mosh behind us. Who in their right mind brings eleven year olds to that kind of concert? Either way. We formed a wall. Because we're cool like that.
When Amy Lee came on the stage, the crowd went wild needless to say. We were so close, we saw the glitter on her body. It was awesome. After I heard a few songs of that set, I decided to bail on my post. See, when you're a housekeeper and are on your feet for about eight or nine hours a day then go to a concert that you are on your feet from six to midnight you tend to not give a rats to bail on the crowd early. I went and sat on the concrete just passed the giant ass crowd. The sound quality was actually better there.
Not too long after, Georgia and Rich appear. We found a bench and parked our asses until it was all over.
FAST FORWARD
The other three finally meet us back at the jeep. Us gals decide that sittin on the other's lap is NOT going to work. We were dirty, smelly, and our shoes were possibly HIV + at that point. So, where do you put a sixth person if not doubled up in the front? Across the men in the back, of course! Since it's a real beach jeep, the top nor sides were on so it was easy for me to maneuver. "Just don't let me fall out the sides okay?" Easy enough for them, strong men as they are. That first U-turn was a crazy bitch! If you ever have the opportunity to be reckless in this aspect, do it. Scary. So White Boy, gentleman as he is, somehow ninjas some shit with my legs and tucks them in the vehicle. So now I'm comfortably splayed with my head rested and my legs out of harms way.
Then there was the area at the stoplights where a crapton of police were manning the traffic control.
Shitballs.
So now, I'm doing the most awkward backbend in the world where my head is now down by their feet. This doesn't really work all too well when you are a well endowed woman. Just saying. So the guys were all leaning on me, nooooooo, no there's no body in our fucking laps. nothing going on here.
After about three excruciating minutes of uncomfort and praying to God the po po didn't see us, they signaled for our lane to get moving and off we were. A decent twenty minute drive home. No one died, I didn't get decapitated, and all was well until we hit the railroad tracks. I got a good couple inches of air.
"Save the vagina! it's the most important part!" Said one of the guys.
By the time we got home, we were all exhausted. An awesome concert with awesome people and an awesome cd for the memories.
I am Thibodeaux, and I approve this message.
"Hey I just met you
And this is crazy
We're printing off concert tickets
So join us maybe?"
Fuck. Yes.
Work in the morning? Irrelevant.
It was a two day concert and they had already bought tickets to go only to find out the day of the concert that military get in for free, so the tickets were just kinda extra. One for me, and one for some other random ass dude who's month they totally made.
Anywho, I saw awesome bands like Foxy Shazam, whose front man ate about six lit cigarettes at once, Gun Point, P.O.D. who I had been listening to since middle school, and to wrap up that first night, Hollywood Undead. It turned out to be an all around marvelous show.
I got to the front of the crowd save for maybe about five people and the music was loud and I made a strange family to rock out with. Anyone else ever have that happen? You're in a crowd so packed of about two to three thousand people and all of a sudden the closest ones touching your elbows and backs are your closest friends.
The next night was even more delicious. Not music-wise, I'll admit. Foxy totally made my life the first night. The second night was New Medicine, Covo, Halestorm, Chivelle, and Evanescence to wrap up the whole schebang.
But either way, we started out the night by figuring out how to pile six people into a four-seater jeep. I'll have you know it can be done. On the way there, the three air force buddies of Rich's (Georgia's husband) sat ass to ass in the back. We'll call them White Boy, Satanist, and Chocolate. I rode shotty with Georgia on my lap. Luckily and surprisingly, we didn't get pulled over. Got to the concert, saw some faces, then made our move for the front. Slowly but surely we were to make it by the time Evanescence played.
Rich snuck in some gummy bears and sour parch kids. At a concert like that, it's unavoidable for everyone to be asking, "What are they laced with?!" To which the response was always "nothing," but not like anyone ever believed us anyway. Rich also filled up his camel pack with water, and when you're so far into that crowd, people were paying dollars for sips of his water. SMART.
Again, we found our own little family, a different one from the previous night, but oh so entertaining. One was a gal who's name slips me. She told us, "If you wanna get to the front, just call out some random name like you know them. Like this," and all of a sudden at the top of her lungs, "BIIILLL!!! HEY BILLL!! I'M COMING BUDDY!!" I never thought I laughed so much in my life.
"Wait no no, that name isn't common enough. Lemme try again, " She said, " BOB!! FUCKING BOB! HERE I AM!!" and everyone was looking around to see who the hell she was talking to. It was hilarious.
Our little amoeba of a group went from standing somewhat next to each other to being single file ass-to-crotch in the crowd. The best way to travel was a conga line. I told White Boy in front of me, "Sorry if I get a boner. There's kinda no avoiding you feeling it." He laughed and started telling me about how awesome Halestorm was. I'd never heard of them before that night, and I tell you what, their drummer made me realize why I loved dating drummers in the first place.
All that passion. All that hair. Mmm.
So I bought a cd after the show, autographed and everything.
It was kinda nice, being around all that testosterone again. Made me miss Wyoming... a little. But just a little. If you ever repeat that, I'll cut your pecker off.
anywho, then Chocolate hands me his wedding ring and his Aviators and starts in on a mosh pit. There was no mercy on my shoes or pants. Then the other two guys tried to jump on the side of me where the mosh was happening. Protect the women? Whatever the reason, it was a delightful courtesty and I wish men were really like that in the real world anymore.
That's right, this is my damn blog and I will haterade all I want to.
So more moshing, women getting on men's shoulders, other men (and myself) screaming at them "TITS OR GTFO" mwahhaha.....
Eventually we all got to the front gate. I will not disperse as to how we managed, but we did. We found a truck load of little eleven year olds up there. Rich, Georgia, and I formed a wall around them to protect them from the mosh behind us. Who in their right mind brings eleven year olds to that kind of concert? Either way. We formed a wall. Because we're cool like that.
When Amy Lee came on the stage, the crowd went wild needless to say. We were so close, we saw the glitter on her body. It was awesome. After I heard a few songs of that set, I decided to bail on my post. See, when you're a housekeeper and are on your feet for about eight or nine hours a day then go to a concert that you are on your feet from six to midnight you tend to not give a rats to bail on the crowd early. I went and sat on the concrete just passed the giant ass crowd. The sound quality was actually better there.
Not too long after, Georgia and Rich appear. We found a bench and parked our asses until it was all over.
FAST FORWARD
The other three finally meet us back at the jeep. Us gals decide that sittin on the other's lap is NOT going to work. We were dirty, smelly, and our shoes were possibly HIV + at that point. So, where do you put a sixth person if not doubled up in the front? Across the men in the back, of course! Since it's a real beach jeep, the top nor sides were on so it was easy for me to maneuver. "Just don't let me fall out the sides okay?" Easy enough for them, strong men as they are. That first U-turn was a crazy bitch! If you ever have the opportunity to be reckless in this aspect, do it. Scary. So White Boy, gentleman as he is, somehow ninjas some shit with my legs and tucks them in the vehicle. So now I'm comfortably splayed with my head rested and my legs out of harms way.
Then there was the area at the stoplights where a crapton of police were manning the traffic control.
Shitballs.
So now, I'm doing the most awkward backbend in the world where my head is now down by their feet. This doesn't really work all too well when you are a well endowed woman. Just saying. So the guys were all leaning on me, nooooooo, no there's no body in our fucking laps. nothing going on here.
After about three excruciating minutes of uncomfort and praying to God the po po didn't see us, they signaled for our lane to get moving and off we were. A decent twenty minute drive home. No one died, I didn't get decapitated, and all was well until we hit the railroad tracks. I got a good couple inches of air.
"Save the vagina! it's the most important part!" Said one of the guys.
By the time we got home, we were all exhausted. An awesome concert with awesome people and an awesome cd for the memories.
I am Thibodeaux, and I approve this message.
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