Festival the way it should be done

A Canadian festival.

Two days, in the middle of a major city.

Eleven million Disturbed tshirts.

Two Meshuggah shirts, mine being one of them.

Blistering heat (I burned one side of my neck).

Security guys pretty much everywhere.

Water everywhere, barely any lines (live and learn, Metaltown).

Two large stages next to each other, with maybe three minutes between each band.

A smaller stage for smaller bands a short way away through woods that effectively blocked the roar from the larger stages.

Beer cost 5 dollars (approx 35 kronor) and could be carried around on the grounds.

Jägermeister girls with the logo shaved into the back of their heads walked around and offered Jägermeister shots for 4 dollars (approx 30 SEK):

I saw some bands:

Red Fang.

Bearded. Groovy. Awesome. 4/5.

Best banter ever:

"This is a song about seafood."

"We've got some more songs. Then we don't have any more songs."

Kingdom of Sorrow.

Intense. Heavy. 3/5.

Jamey Jasta is an awesome frontman. The Beard of Doom (a.k.a. Kirk Windstein of Crowbar and Down) had a microphone with the sound turned way down, which sucked.

Machine Head.

Usually gods live. 3/5.

Only played five songs. It's only a matter of taste, but the two from "The Blackening" and the new tune "Locust" are boring to the point of exhaustion. These three were bracketed by "Imperium" and "Davidian", which saved the day.

In Flames.

Killer live band. 4/5.

Really not my thing, but gods what a frontman they have in Anders Fridén, gods what a voice he has, and gods what a razor sharp band they are live.

In all the festival was the best I've been too in terms of organisation and logistics, and I had a great time.

On the way back I ran into some people from Metal Blade and Roadrunner, and we spent time ranting about a world in which Disturbed draws bigger crowds than Machine Head and Red Fang, which we all agreed was the best band of the night.

Had some drinks with said label people, then off to bed.

SUNCT. And a haunted house

Today has been a weird one. I woke up to The Headache. I was supposed to go listen to the monks do Gregorian chants in the chapel on campus, but no. Back to bed.

It's been with me all day. I've had maybe twenty attacks, none of them as bad as when I'm not on the drugs, but bad enough. Afterwards I almost always get a regular headache, so I've had that all day. Thanks Ibuprofen, for giving me a few hours' relief.

I got some writing done. I finished The Godslayer, my apocalyptic fantasy story that I am turning in on Wednesday morning. Getting it done today was nice, now I have a few nights to revise it. In the end, I might not turn it in, if I have the stones to write another story. We'll see.

Other activities today have included a trip to Barnes & Noble, not-as-good-as-Nadeau's subs and an hour and a half long walk with Party Planner (yes, alright, enough with the Palin now, we're after all in week six as of 28 minutes ago) and Alaska.

There are all kinds of sights on the walk, things we tend to go by every time. The fireflies on the field. The monk graveyard. The stone head. The haunted house (only some times).

As we neared the graveyard today we heard what sounded like a sprinkler. We've never heard a sprinkler there before, or even seen one. "A moose peeing," I said. We got out of there quickly. Our final theory? One hundred monk zombies pissing.

We decided to take the long long route, past the haunted house. It's a big old house with a barn and old stables right next to it. Every time we go by, which is always after ten p.m., there are cars outside and the lights are on in the back rooms. It looks like they're renovating it. Tonight as we passed, a black cat sat in the second story window, silhouetted by those lights. If ever there was a cat that looked like it belonged to a wicked witch, it was that one.

So, I'm not sure I'm going by that house ever again... I will really miss those walks. We talk about our stories and life, the universe and everything. Also, they're a good way to at least pretend I'm walking off a few of the endless number of cookies I have eaten over these five weeks.

Now bed. First, quotes.

This one from when we were out driving the other day, on our way to whereever.

Me: Where does this road go?

Peeko: To our doom. Let's go.

This one as we were driving with the Commodore to a book store and were passed by an Evil Truck (long story to explain that one) and someone remarked that evil is fast.

Dundee: Evil doesn't have to be fast. Evil is the tortoise. It's inevitable.

And finally a pic. This should have been posted in the last post, but I forgot. From the Friday night barbecue:

Darth Narcomancer, resident Odyssey Sith Lord