"Don't Call Me Whitney, Bobby," is a song by Islands, who we saw last night at Vega.
The night started with purchases of the cheapest baguettes, caviar, juice-boxed white wine, liverpaste kroner can buy. These items cost less than ten dollars combined. There was a condom perfectly laid out on the bus on the way to the concert.
I learned some lessons about decisions and mistakes. In describing the concert, I want to say, "the concert was amazing" or "incredible" or "absolutely outstanding" or "so fucking good," but I wonder how many times that phrase has been said. But it was. The concert was good to the fifth power. Yes, dude, I know how large exponentials expand. Yes, you do win a prize if you can tell me what that was a reference to.
We were in the front row the entire time, and I got some sick shots with my canon and they covered a Smiths song which made me think of Josh. After the show I was able to speak to the two front men as they tried to sell t-shirts. They told me eventually to move slightly aside so that people can see the shirts. I felt bad about that comment but I also felt bad for them having to sell t-shirts. Maybe they remembered me as the guy who kept shouting how much I wanted to touch the lead man's hair during a break in a song.
Today a few of us who didn't have field studies went to Malmo, Sweden. It was just like Kobenhavn, Denmark. Except a lot cheaper because the Swedish Krone is not doing as well as the Danish Krone.
This post is less than thrilling compared to how my past 24 hours were, I'm sorry. Here's to Thursdays.