Like the title says, I'm in Maryland. Apparently, a couple of months ago I agreed to go to some sort of pop punk "fest" called Insubordination. Basically, it's two days of bands who play the same three chords over and over. All the songs are about ex girlfriends or girls in general and not in a cool late 90's Saves The Day way. For example, some nameless, faceless band sung a song called "Kate Left Me For An Emo Boy". Ground breaking stuff, kids. When Teddy asked me to go I'm pretty sure I was at work, it was 5am, and I was probably on the phone. I was tricked! To be fair though, there are some bands I did want to see mainly, Lemuria, Weston and Off With Their Heads.
Well, I missed Off With Their Heads because it took nine fucking hours to get to our destination from Oswego, New York. That's more than a shift of work, folks. I don't know why I travel, I certainly don't do it well. I'm like a delicate flower. Wait, no, I'm a pack of ground beef that needs to be refrigerated at all times or else I spoil, smell bad, and make others sick.
My friend Teddy agreed to drive and he has one of those Outback cars which means it's a wagon and has a lot of room in the back. I require a lot of room. To make the commute a little better, Teddy put down the seats and threw a futon mattress in there. That's me on the top left enjoying comfort in a car. You see, Teddy has known me a while and understands I need the finest of accommodations, I'm the talent of this operation. So, for the entire drive I was able to just lie down and enjoy the ride. Well, there wasn't anything to enjoy, really. The only highlight was the rest stop that was giving away hot dogs, baked goods, soda and orange drink for a suggested donation. The makeshift stand was operated by Boy Scouts and they still hate the gays and all, so I normally don't support such a thing, but Daddy was hungry and Teddy actually paid so it worked out well. The best tasting hot dog is the free hot dog, FYI.
I don't want to bog you down with a play by play of the rest of the night. You come here for the jokes, not the story. So, let's make this quick. After checking into the hotel, we went to get burritos. I ate my first burrito that was forged by a black man. It also happened to be the best burrito I've ever had. Pointing out that the man was black is probably racist but pointing out that it was delicious makes it less racist? I mean, it was just odd, usually it's a white hippie or a real life Mexican. Ok, stop, stop! Anyway, I'm hungry again.
Back to the venue and back to bands I really don't care about. I got drunk, almost smoked a cigarette and creepily ogled pretty girls that would never pay attention to a dude like me. To coincide with the girl theme of the night, I fell in love with a girl guitarist in one of the bands. Did I talk to her? No, of course not, that's crazy talk. As far as the general make up of the crowd, well, it was mostly fat dudes. And that's all fine and good. Be fat, I don't care. I've been fat at times, not a big deal. But fat dudes with beards. That's two strikes, you're almost out. HUGE deal. Interesting life choices. Moving on...
So now it's Saturday and I'm laying in bed at the Ramada. One more day of this. I want to go home now. The only thing keeping me together is the cable TV. Let's not even talk about the fact that I should be back home helping Nate clean and move out of our apartment. Yeah, we're supposed to be out by this weekend and I'm in Maryland. I'm a bad friend, bad person. I'll write about that some other time. Keith is cleaning up the hotel room, picking up all the beer cans. He's eye fucking me, I can feel it. This entry really deteriorated quickly. Sorry, children.
