Hit. The. Frigging. Wall.

Everything was going really well.

Had avoided the worst danger: A hangover that could knock a buzzard off a shitwagon. Been pacing myself, going for the long run. A few aches in the thighs and feet; expected when you're walking back and forth for several miles every day. A little stretching, no big deal.

A little sunblock; still got a rosy glow the first day. it's OK; nothing to worry about. Proper hydrating during the day prevents early fades.

Even Managed to drag ZORG the HellBeast from Planet Zyrax out of a concrete pit to join in on Sunday (and he had one of those hangovers with a personality. Well, a HellBeast should know that alcoholic beverages are poisonous to them); the cool weather kept the crowds down and managed to catch Moby, who can rock much harder than his records let on. worth it.

And we managed to create a couple of new summerfest memes: the theory of the 'Wave' which I will go into more fully a bit later. And the concept of 'Summerfest Feet' which requires balance, agility, observation and a bit of prescience in order to avoid the semi-random paths of FestDrunks. It's not as easy as it looks.


And then it rains. It's like that skier in the ABC Wide World Of Sports video. The whole thing falls right the hell apart; agony of Defeat, indeed. You stand up wondering "what the hell?"

Bah. In retrospect, we should have just gone anyway. What, are we afraid to melt?

Weather or no, it still counts as a miss. So there goes the 11 day gold crown for the year. damn this is harder than it looks.

So anyway, back to the track. Ten days is still impressive, and will be a good test for next year. Today looks like a good one: some local bands to entertain myself, some reggae (Kojo, King solomon, and steel Pulse) and some new stuff to check out; finally, Styx, as an emergency backup. Hey, sue me you pretentious musical snobs; they were the second real rock concert I went to. It's just warm enough for shorts; perfect Summerfest weather.


And since we blew the eleven-fecta, we don't have to worry about that hangover thing. Full steam ahead.



so, ZORG-baby, if you're reading this, it's your last free day. you got our cell number.

And the rest of you: Get back to work. Ha. we're not above a little gloating.