Originally posted by diamonds&pollen
KAID!
I remember you and the round table (or what my group refered to your group and the camping equipment as. Think King Arthur)!
And an incedent of vomiting.. =(
That was the last Manson concert we went to. It's *really* been almost five years? G'damn.
Fuck yes, camping chairs. Were you the group in front of us or behind? I remember sharing my butt-pad with someone and then disgusting San Fran street water got it all soggy and sad. And the vomit. Good god. Some asshole puked on me in the pit. It got in my hair. Had to tell Manson when he went to hug me to DON'T, because there was shit all over me. Talk about suck.
"Oh hai, Manson. Nice to meet you for the first time ever. Oh nos, don't hug meh, there be vomit thurr from some drunken asshole who tried to molest me. Oh, you don't care and want hugs anywayz? M'kay, thanks for autograph and pukey embrace, bai."
I doubt you'll see me unless Mom and I (yes, it's still a family event. My tall-as-fuck little brother will be going along as well this time, make sure not to get stuck behind him, everybody) decide we DO want to sit out from six in the morning on. Regardless, I'll have short-ish, purple hair and a fat ass, a hot mom, and a skinny giant. We're probably going to plan on sitting/standing up against the railing behind the pit. Mom's pushing fifty and I'm just tired of other people trying to share their bodily fluids with me.
I wonder if the same homeless people will be milling around trying to sell crumbly old makeup and used water bottles. :D