On The Precipice of Mediocrity, Teetering
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| I Am John's Stomach Pains. On The Precipice of Mediocrity, Teetering |
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Monday, August 11, 2003 Holz Joins The Mob, Dances With Indians, and Becomes a Walking Bruise Just a usual weekend, I think. I just wish I could walk without looking like I was beaten like a red-headed stepchild. Anyway, after a relaxing Friday night where friends and I stayed in, hung out, and played Crack the Case, my weekend went into overdrive (at least or me anyway). Saturday, a friend and I headed into the city to partake in a Flash Mob. For those who have not heard of flash-mobbing, it's when a group of people all meet up at a specific place at a specific time, get instructions on what to do, and then leave 10 minutes later. Last Saturday's Mob Project entailed everyone walking to Dolores Park at 2:07, holding hand, and forming large circles. By 2:09, there were I'd say 300+ people playing one of the most massive games of Duck, Duck, Goose. Exactly ten minutes later, everyone runs away. Yeah, I'm sure a number of you are saying to yourselves, "that's fucking stupid", and your right, it is, but it was a damn hoot, and I can't wait to do it again. Hey, we even made the paper! Afterwards, a couple of us hung out around Chinatown and did some shopping. I went to a shitload of stores, and could not find a rubber chicken anywhere, I could not believe it. I told my mom this, and she asked me why I was looking for a rubber chicken. My answer was, sometimes you just feeling like walking around the city holding a rubber chicken. Duh. Later that night, I went clubbing at Le Colonial, which was having an Indian night... interesting experience. For the first time that I can remember, I was in the staunch minority. I swear, there was probably 4 white guys in the entire place. It was a good time though, and I dug the music alot more than I was expecting. I did realize two things though. Indian guys dance just a poorly as white guys, and Indian women (hot though they may be) dance the way white women dance when they're making fun of people dancing. Sunday, I went to the last day of the Summer Sanitarium Tour at 3Com Park (Candlestick). Holy-fucking-shit was that painful. We got there at the tale end of The Deftones performing Change (and while that song rules, you can see me putrid thoughts on seeing Deftones here). Up next was Linkin Park, and I gotta say they fucking ruled. Great energy, nearly every song was recognizable, and the audience was totally digging 'em. Then came Limp Bizkit. I've never been to a concert where the lead singer had such hate spewed at him by the audience. Cursing him out, flipping the bird, throwing bottle after bottle at him. I actually found it damn funny. They did a short set, about 45 minutes, and the audience were glad to be rid of 'em (at least Fred Durst). I did like there performances of Break Stuff and Sanitarium though. Then came Metallica. I had never seen then, so, honestly, I don't know what I was expecting. After Limp, our group slowly but surely pushed our way to the front. For the next hour, it was a mob of pushing, elbows in the back, lots and lots of boobies flashing. Ten minutes before they came on, I was three people back from the stage. Then they came out... after about a minute, I had lost my hat, my shirt had been ripped off, and my pants were falling down. I lasted a song and a half before I couldn't take it anymore, and I just began filing to the back. Took me about 10 minutes, but I got there, already feeling the bruises all over my arms forming (doing a little moshing probably didn't help). I lost all my friends, and I wasn't gonna be heading back into the din, so I just enjoyed the show sitting in the stands, and then heading back in to do some jamming with people in the back. The show was f'n amazing anyway, with them doing almost completely old shit from Kill 'Em All and Ride the Lightning, and only a few from the crapfest known as St. Anger (sorry, it's true, the album sounds like a garage band covering System of a Down). Biggest surprise was Fuel and Nothing Else Matters, neither of which I was expecting. Loved it all, and aside from the fact I can't move my arms with cringing this morning, I had a great time. posted by Holz | 10:36 AM | Rant & Rave, Bitches! (0) 0 Comments: |
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"Let a man get away with fuckin' you once, you stay bent over so's he can fuck you again whenever he damn well pleases. An' if one man can do it? Another will too. An' another, an' another still. So's being fucked, that's yer life. 'Til who you were, you ain't. 'Cause all you are is an asshole." 100 Bullets #42 | |||||
