The Lollapalooza Chronicles: Day One – We’re ALL Mad Here
I blearily rolled out of bed Friday morning (Lollapalooza Day One), my to-do list a mile-and-a-half long. Turns out that moving, trying to find work, and setting up for an SuperFun Internet garage sale is a metric fuckton of work. But no fear! I made myself my famous “coffee brewed with Redbull” and hoped I didn’t have a heart attack from all the caffeine.
(spoiler alert: I didn’t)
I went about my day, waiting for Dawn to show up, occasionally trying to put things that weren’t ridiculous on my Amazon Wish List (see below):
I’d leave that fucker out just to make people who come over VERY uncomfortable.
Or this, which I’m dying to own so I can put it on my pillow every night before I go to sleep:
But, considering I need things like “toilet paper,” and “things to drink out of,” I sorta feel like that’s a pretty um, juvenile thing to do.
Anyway.
About 2:00 (or maybe it was 1 or 4 o’clock, I don’t fucking know), Dawnie came over to find me almost entirely dressed – save for a pair of shoes. We chatted a bit about this and that before embarking on our Journey To Day One Of Lollapalloza. She’d warned me (needlessly, or so I thought) about the heat and the importance of proper footwear as well as explaining that coffee, my lifeblood, is dehydrating, so I should stop drinking it.
I made a second pot and drank it in her honor.
I also decided that a kicky dress would be fine, paired it with some comfy, blinged out flippy-flops and off we went into the wild blue yonder.
Traffic, if you’re not aware, in Chicago blows hot ass because half of the roads are shut down due to construction, and, well, our dumbasses were driving from the ‘burbs inbound at 5PM. You may commence mocking me.
….
….
….
Done?
GOOD.
Assholes.
While we were stopped at a stoplight, Dawn practically begins hollering:
“Oh My GOD. That Guy is styling his beard.”
I swiveled my head around as I reached for my iPhone, “No fucking way.”
True to her word, he was, in fact, not JUST styling his beard, he was styling it with a motherfucking comb.
I snapped exactly one picture of the dude before he noticed me.
Back off, ladies. HE’S MINE.
Finally in the city, wristband FIRMLY in place and itching horribly, we were off.
This wristband took bionic hands of doom to snap on – Lollapalloza wasn’t kidding about making sure people didn’t slip off their wristbands and sell them to other people. If only they’d been so vigilant about booting the super drunk(slash)barfing people out.
Alas, I digress.
While I love music and have been to numerous festivals in my lifetime, nothing could’ve prepared me for this. Honestly – nothing.
Wall-to-wall people. People peeing on fences. Lines of porta-potties (not a one, I’m sad to report, had a great name). Food everywhere. Garbage everywhere. I stopped in the middle of the (closed) road to just gape – because holy SHITBALLS, Batman. My initial reactions were as follows:
Gape at the half-dressed people -> Notice that everyone – despite the ridiculous temperatures and 900% humidity – is fucking hammered -> Marvel at the smell of vomit -> Elbow some people who’d pushed into me -> Have sudden urge to crawl somewhere and hide, where no drunk people could excrete bodily fluids on me.
Instead I just kept walking, while cursing my choice in blingy footwear. It’s perfectly comfortable for a short walk, but we’d hauled ass from Dawn’s office to Grant Park, which meant that my feet were complaining loudly. I told them to “suck it up, cupcake” and continued on our merry way, snapping photos and photoboming other people. It really IS the small things in life.
In a lull between bands, we decided to take a walk through the “farmer’s market” which really seemed to be more about calling itself a farmer’s market than selling fresh greens or anything. Well, except for this:
Notice the decided lack of people clamoring to slurp down what appeared to be blended kelp? Wrong crowd, Wheat Grass Shots People. Perhaps they’d have done better in Oak Park.
(that was a jab that two of you – IF I’M LUCKY – understood)
Also: you couldn’t PAY me two bucks to drink that shit.
Unlike the poor Wheat Grass stand (I nearly bought a shot JUST to make the guy feel less bad about his decided lack of customers), this stand was bumping like WOAH:
Now, I have to make a confession (whispers): with the exception of fondue, I’m not really in to cheese. STOP THROWING SHIT AT YOUR MONITOR – it means MORE for YOU! I was deeply saddened by this because – generally speaking – I adore food on a stick.
Anyway, unlike the poor Wheat Grass Shot dude, the grilled cheese on a stick was bumpin’.
Now THIS is where marketing comes into play: had there been a guy IN a suit of cheese, I’d have bought some. Why? BECAUSE DUDE IN CHEESE COSTUME – WHAT’S THERE NOT TO LOVE?
And on the following end of the “farmer’s market,” we found this:
They had a chocolate bacon cream puff, and while I could be a crazy internet person and be all OMFG BACON CREAM PUFF, THIS IS BETTER THAN THE BACON-FLAVORED SALT I PUT IN MY COFFEE THIS MORNING, I’m going to tell you the truth.
I tried the bacon-flavored cream puff and…
(whispers)… It creeped me out.
I know I KNOW, I’m a failure at life AND at loving bacon.
On our way over to see Black Sabbath, we stopped so I could snap a picture of this:
While the name “chubby wieners” is awesome, no doubt, what really struck me was this the guy in this shirt. I thought the dude wearing the Camelback was wearing a shirt. I looked closer and realized that he was not, in fact, wearing a shirt, unless he was wearing a SKIN shirt, which goes to show how truly overwhelmed I was.
“Dawn,” I whispered loudly (dead sober, I should add). “That dude is wearing a skin shirt.”
She looked blankly at me.
“A SHIRT MADE OF MOTHERFUCKING SKIN,” I went on. “See?” I pointed at him.
She stared at me.
“I hope you’re joking,” she said.
“Uh….heh-heh-heh,” I replied.
“Becky,” she said as though I’d grown a second head in a manner of seconds. “THAT GUY IS NOT WEARING A SHIRT.”
“So…wait,” I wanted clarification. “That guy is not, in fact, wearing a skin shirt.” I stated.
“We’d better get you into the shade, dude,” Dawn said, dragging me away from the guy wearing a skin shirt.
“But…” I protested. “SKIN SHIRT.”
I was handily escorted into the shade, where I drank my water bottle and stared at the guy wearing a skin shirt on my phone until Dawn saw me and threatened to take it away.
Which, I can hardly blame her for.
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How was YOUR weekend, Pranksters?
A friend of mine put that horse head mask on her great dane. It was the freakiest looking thing I have ever seen. Giant horse-dog.
Bwahahahaha. Now I need a dog.
That’s just plain awesome.
It was ridiculous.
CHOCOLATE BACON CREAM PUFFS………… I screamed loudly as I read this post .. and the bf gave me a funny look.
as well… how exactly do you get grilled cheese on a stick?
I was entirely curious about that too. Doesn’t cheese MELT when put on a grill?
Yeah, I’m still trying to wrap my brain around that one…it’s working about as well as hot cheese on a stick. And skin shirt…I’m still giggling over skin shirt!!!
I was laughing throughout the entire post. “The guy is wearing a skin shirt!” The heat was getting to your mind!
I really, really thought he was.
Did you get evacuated the 2nd day because of the thunderstorm? When I saw it on the news I expected today’s blog to be: I go to Lola … and god punishes me by sending lightning bolts. 🙂
hahahaha. I’m with you about the big crowd thing. We have Fiesta in San Antonio for a week in April. I can’t go because I hate getting beer spilled on me and other people’s body fluids splashed on me. I’ll choose what I want splashed on me, thank you very much.
I got a migraine – I stayed home (which I hadn’t wanted to do) which turned out to be a DAMN good thing.
So damned unfair!!! Just unfair. I want grilled cheese on a stick! Bacon cheese puffs, oh. My. Yum!! Fuck that wheat grass puke, but grilled cheese on a stick! I’ll eat anything on a stick, you fry up a squirrel’s butt in batter and stick it on a stick and top it with cheese and I woudl have scarfed it down and been all “Daaaayum that was some good squirrel butt on a stick!” But just No! I get None. Stupid gluten.
Bwahahahahahahahahaha. I fucking love you.
If you really wanna see gross fried food on a stick, come to the Iowa State Fair this week. They feature deep-fried Snickers bars and shit like that. Also, fried Oreo cookies and Twinkies, may the Lard have mercy on my soul.
OMFG. I need that. ALL THE THINGS ON STICKS! THE WONDER OF IT ALL!
Just so Aunt Becky can rest assured – deep-fried Snickers, Oreos, and Twinkies are all totally f’in delicious. If you really wanna go all out, try the deep fried Oreos with hot fudge and whipped cream. Seriously.
(Is it any wonder that my cholesterol is like 897,433? Dude, my blood damn near qualifies as a solid. That’s probably not a good thing.)
The guy with the curly hair is wearing one also.
So is the woman with the hat, just over his shoulder.
hmmm…
that hat she’s wearing…
Guy in the dark glasses on his other side.
Wearing one too.
EVERYONE was naked there. Fucking skin shirts!
Glad you had fun!!! I got called into work even though I’m supposed to be out. But policy requires a supervisor to be on shift, so I sat and did walk in reports and nothing. Yay for fun!! Lol.
I wish you could’ve been there!
I shopped and shopped! School uniform etcs for the littles heading back next month (and tops and doughnuts for me!!), and sent your parcel (which I hope makes sense because I was going to write a longer note, but the post office lady was all “send it quickly bc the man with the van is here, or it’ll have to wait until Monday!” so I totally forgot to put my email on and blurgh! I hope it makes it across the Atlantic ok. I also did the unthinkable and bought something just because it was pink because “ooh! Aunt Becky!” lol
Bwahahaha! That’s so cool! I’ll let you know when I get it. Thanks again, lovie.
I get the Oak Park joke, so- one down!
I used to go to Lolla when I was young. When it was at the World. And there was only one stage.
I might go again, except, as you pointed out, it’s just so PEOPLE out there. (& skin shirts- shudder.)
Instead, I sat on my ass, on my couch, no shoes, watching the Lolla live feed from YouTube via the Apple TV. Perry did that for us fogeys. It was awesome.
I can’t believe you don’t like cheese. I almost threw something- but you’re right… more for me. Thanks for that.
So- how was Ozzy? I saw Sabbath years ago & he was old & shuffley then… did he say, “Rock & roll! I love you all! Goodnight!” 75 times?!? So awesome.
Thanks for saving me from the bacon cream puff. My dark side would have bought one. That’s probably what gave you a migraine.
Skin shirts are kind of gross and ridiculous, but my dad once insisted on wearing a shirt with organs and the vascular system on it when he came to my high school to provide a guest lecture on the vascular system to physiology classes. I offered him a hundred bucks (and he knew I had it) not to wear the damned shirt. Had he worn pants that had a comparable design, I would have actually run away and joined SeaOrg, but since it was just the shirt, I settled for telling anyone who asked that I was most certainly not related to him, denying that I’d ever laid eyes on him before in my life, and refusing to be seen in public with him for the next six months.
I’m really not sure how you were able to do Lollapolooza. I can’t even spell it, let alone deal with loud music + heat + crowds. Someone would have to check me into an insane asylum after 10 minutes.
Totally understood the Oak Park jsb!!
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How do you make Red Bull coffee brew?? I NEED that!
Glad you had fun, I alway love going to outdoor festivals cause I look around and say “it could be worse, i could be the skin shirt chick”.
I cannot get over those socks. His socks say USA on them. They tie the whole alphet together! bwahahaha