Who are these godamn morons?
Jesus… I an understand the appeal of getting 40 of your most idiotic looking friends to stand around in a fucking field watching each other churn out god awful metal but.. seriously… don’t call it a fucking festival.
We had been promised a festival. We had been promised marquees.
When we arrived at the superbly terribly named “Ra Fest” though we were besiege by a far more horrible sight.
Rock monsters surrounded us, loitering around a couple of battered gazebos, leering and gurning in the throes of some sort of horrible drug/booze combination… the mere though of joining them by doing the drugs we had procured for the occasion filled me with a wretching horror that no amount of MDAM was going to sort out.
“What’s the point of getting fucked up if all were going to experience is a more intense version of the horror that I am already reeling from sober?”
Well, quite.
No, much better to stand and look disenchanted as the procession of awful bands parade one after an other in front of our incredulous eyes.
And awful they were. No respect for the audience in these swine.
“Just get fucked up and act like musicians, even if it sounds fucking awfull.”
“Best Ra Fest ever” was the scream from the dwarf metaller with glo sticks hanging from his tatty rock-monster beard.
Yeah, I reckon.
You absolute cunts.
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