I know I’m jumping the gun a bit with this OW, but like my priest always says, blow it out your ass. I’m actually long overdue with this little diddy seeing as the subject is Lollapalooza, which wrapped up over a week ago after a successful three days of drinking, getting muddy as shit, and picturing Florence from Florence in the Machine naked. It’s like “Pardon me, Flo? Whaddya say you lose a couple of the dozen tweed tunics you’re wearing and maybe toss on some shorts? Looking like Link from Zelda isn’t the most flattering look.” Lollapalooza was neat, for reasons including but not limited to the following:
1) $8 beers! They were practically giving those puppies away! Warm Bud Heavies out the bumhole like you wouldn’t believe!
2) Crowded-as-fuck-ness! Show me someone who doesn’t like massive sweaty wasted pukey dubstep moshes and I’ll show you a liar. Sidenote everyone at Bassnectar was funneling Ecstasy into their jugular, I’m pretty sure. One dude next me literally threw his tiny friend into the crowd in front of him to try and clear out some space to stand. Dedication I had to tip my cap to.
Snapped the photo above of some of the rowdiest moshers we ran into. Ruthless motherfuckers, these guys. Chick crowd surfing was a real bitch…
3) Comfy sleeping arrangements! Hardwood floor? Um yes please. Dishcloth as a pillow? YES. Jamming my legs through a long sleeve shirt as blanket? C’mon now you’re spoilin’ me! By Monday morning I felt like Tom Cruise in Vanilla Sky, but it wasn’t televised. I’m going to look back at that weekend as the turning point when spinal degeneration took hold of my L4 and L5.
4) Super easy to find people! Mobs of people using their phones = zero calls/ texts successfully sent. Fuck, now I know what Brendan Frasier must have felt like growing up in that fallout shelter in Blast From the Past. Except instead of having Christopher Walken as my dad and Alicia Silverstone as my girlfriend I had these two straight up wierdos of Die Antwoord screaming about…from what I could make out….Satan and darkness and metallic labia piercings.
I need those blood-stained Dre Beats and I need them like yesterday.
Is this not the scariest album cover you’ve ever laid eyes on!? Holy SHIT, I’ll tell you what, you ain’t ever gonna see Chris Martin pullin a stunt like this. That stunt being taking a bite out of a human heart and arriving at the conclusion that a good finishing touch would be a pair of angel wings.
5) Shit-ton of rain on Saturday! #Wow! #Fun! #Splashing! #KONY2012! God dude, I can’t even pretend that was fun. Torrential downpour halfway through the day; was more depressing than Michael Caine giving a eulogy with Sarah McLachlan commercials playing behind him.
So if you’re into any of that noise, I suggest you mark your calendar for next year. Special release pre-order early bird first chance tickets are only $24,500!
Author’s Note: All this having been said, I had the time of my life at this absolutely, unapologetically filthy drunken festival. I’d do it again in a second no questions asked.