Spend A Lifetime
I went to see Panic! At The Disco, I met them in person and (metaphorically) shook hands and had a talk to them about my charming (real) 1$-note that they signed- but I fell in love with someone entirely different.
Because as soon as we went to the concert and I heard her voice singing over what sounded like a gazillion of decibels, I knew this was the woman of my dreams.
I mean, next to Jennifer Garner and everything. Nobody can beat that rank, she's just perfect. But that lead singer of the uber-phat Swedish band "The Sounds"? She rocks. And she's hot.
They were only the supporting act but I was a lot nicer to watch their gig than Panic's, although altogether, Panic was much cooler still. I know, I'm confused, too- the thing is, no one really ever wants to see the supporting act, right, unless it's something like, I don't know, something Emo the kids nowadays like. So the crowd was pretty polite and nice and just swaying and singing and having fun. But when Panic! started, people went bezerk and I wouldn't have imagined such a fallout even at the worst and slummiest redneck attended Slipknot act.
We were standing in 3rd line, and as soon as Brandon hit the stage, it was either dead or alive. I had been talking to a 12 year old cute boy who stood in front of me, and when the lights dimmed he suddenly vanished under the fat corpse of a 50-year old who reeked of sweat and beer. I was punched into my ribs, pushed into other people, and right at this moment I realize that I don't know enough English vocabulary to actually explain the outrageous dimensions it took. Just imagine a wild gone cattle of Emo, running into your back and breaking your bones.
So I took that beat and stepped out of the crowd, pushed my way to the back of the hall (as at least 300 other broken and disappointed girls did). When you go to a concert of moshing and pogo, you know it's going to be rough, but people help each other off the ground when they fall because they don't want to seriously injure themselves, if even at all. Panic! At the Disco? A hype with no comparison. It proves again that, frankly, going to concerts is not my kind of thing. The drinks are expensive, the sweat makes me nauseous and it's so much better to listen to the music in a club, where you can dance freely to it without feeling like rocks are getting thrown at you.
Now I'm more or less dreading to go to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers in two weeks. It seems like horror to me, there's going to be a tremendous crowd and crazy people and even crazier moshing. Tecker told me we had seats, but I'm not sure how cool that is. Which reminds me, I should probably start listening to the Stadium Arcadium, I hate it when I can't sing along. Except, I hate Stadium Arcadium, which leaves me out of it.
Tickets are being sold on Ebay for at least 150 bucks.
Anyway- The Sounds, people, The Sounds. Hot girl.
Because as soon as we went to the concert and I heard her voice singing over what sounded like a gazillion of decibels, I knew this was the woman of my dreams.
I mean, next to Jennifer Garner and everything. Nobody can beat that rank, she's just perfect. But that lead singer of the uber-phat Swedish band "The Sounds"? She rocks. And she's hot.
They were only the supporting act but I was a lot nicer to watch their gig than Panic's, although altogether, Panic was much cooler still. I know, I'm confused, too- the thing is, no one really ever wants to see the supporting act, right, unless it's something like, I don't know, something Emo the kids nowadays like. So the crowd was pretty polite and nice and just swaying and singing and having fun. But when Panic! started, people went bezerk and I wouldn't have imagined such a fallout even at the worst and slummiest redneck attended Slipknot act.
We were standing in 3rd line, and as soon as Brandon hit the stage, it was either dead or alive. I had been talking to a 12 year old cute boy who stood in front of me, and when the lights dimmed he suddenly vanished under the fat corpse of a 50-year old who reeked of sweat and beer. I was punched into my ribs, pushed into other people, and right at this moment I realize that I don't know enough English vocabulary to actually explain the outrageous dimensions it took. Just imagine a wild gone cattle of Emo, running into your back and breaking your bones.
So I took that beat and stepped out of the crowd, pushed my way to the back of the hall (as at least 300 other broken and disappointed girls did). When you go to a concert of moshing and pogo, you know it's going to be rough, but people help each other off the ground when they fall because they don't want to seriously injure themselves, if even at all. Panic! At the Disco? A hype with no comparison. It proves again that, frankly, going to concerts is not my kind of thing. The drinks are expensive, the sweat makes me nauseous and it's so much better to listen to the music in a club, where you can dance freely to it without feeling like rocks are getting thrown at you.
Now I'm more or less dreading to go to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers in two weeks. It seems like horror to me, there's going to be a tremendous crowd and crazy people and even crazier moshing. Tecker told me we had seats, but I'm not sure how cool that is. Which reminds me, I should probably start listening to the Stadium Arcadium, I hate it when I can't sing along. Except, I hate Stadium Arcadium, which leaves me out of it.
Tickets are being sold on Ebay for at least 150 bucks.
Anyway- The Sounds, people, The Sounds. Hot girl.
skysurfer - Nov 2, 18:02
