The Banana Gangbang Rock Festival! It Was AWESOME! Or so I’ve been told.
You see, as badly as I wanted to be there, it seemed that the universe conspired against and totally douched out on me over the weekend, rendering me incapable of attending the festivities at the Bela Bar last Saturday.
For one thing, yours truly contracted a debilitating monster mouth sore last week.
You know, the kind of mouth sore that already counts as significant physical trauma, giving the affected person the chills, and requiring said person to wear a shirt over another shirt, the latter of which is already of the long-sleeved variant, on a simple albeit slightly rainy Saturday afternoon.
The kind that would disrupt one’s ability to eat, make fart noises with one’s mouth, let alone speak.
The kind that would make one wince in pain if the distressed area comes in contact with just about anything, from catsup to toothpaste to (I’ll say it since you’re probably thinking it anyway) cock.
Orifical lesions aside, I was also broke, as evidenced by this actual photo of my wallet.
I swear to God, barring a couple grand in my savings account, that’s all the money I had. Where in the hell would I have been able to get money for gasoline, a liter of which now costs as much as a tugjob? (For anyone interested in finding out where to get 50-peso tugjobs, PM me.)
And if that wasn’t bad enough, the entire family was in Tagaytay, so I’ll take the Baddie route and say that broke-ass and sick ol’ me was also on house-sitting duty. Here I am brandishing my favorite weapons against potential burglars: a remote control and a blue comb.
It’s a good thing the girlfriend was with me at home, otherwise I wouldn’t have these photos to show for my absence. She also helped me secure the house’s premises from would-be thieves by wielding an axe in her sleep.
Said axe was a Christmas present from Fritz, which is totally cool since all I got for him was an Interpol CD.
Aural pleasure courtesy of one the bestest bands in the world in exchange for a murder weapon. Guess who got the better end of that bargain. (HINT: his name starts with a “C” and ends with an “OCO.”)
Anyway, if there’s one thing we can all learn from reading this entry, it’s that I’m a complete jackass for not being at The Banana Gangbang Rock Festival. And if you weren’t either, you should feel the same. Also, I really should find better ways to make use of my sick/free time, like maybe resting or whatever.
You can read up on last Saturday’s events by clicking here, here, here, and here.
