Calling Yog Soggoth

email I received late last week:

"ZORG will remain in hibernation until July 5th. Then, and only then, there will be a full blown fury of biblical proportions that only a hellbeast can unleash.
Old testament, real wrath-of-God type stuff. Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies, rivers and seas boiling. Forty years of darkness, earthquakes, volcanoes. The dead rising from the grave. Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria.

In comments, I answered:

see, here's the dealio, Z. The rest of us will have 5 or 6 days head start on you. Hell, You're gonna miss BOC! So we're gonna be building our Summerfest points...

You ever join a fantasy game after the others have been playing a while? Every one else has up-armored and scored some exotic weaponry, and they are up for fighting the likes of creatures that are able to dice you and snort you like low grade snuff.

So that's where you'll be. You'll be getting dropped into the crowds that already have Summerfest Feet, and a serious Wave will swamp you while the rest of the crowd is barely disturbed.

AND THEN....and then. The 8th comes. It's the last day! you may hit it- hard- but it's the last day. everyone will be winding down a bit; Monday will roll around and you won't be sated. You'll be left with a raging FestWood, and no way to relieve it.

But Summerfest will be gone. For another year.

Sad. I Feel for You, pathetic heck-beast.

While ZORG slumbered on, someone liberated some of his treasures and sent them on to me. Very cool, and appropriate; I sense the beginnings of a collection, if such a thing is still possible. After all, the Pin is long gone also.

Thursday is, of course, the Big Day; opening festivities. The King of Summerfest crowns his 100th consecutive day; and I am starting on my second Full Attendance Year, with some luck. Help is always needed.

By the time the 5th rolls around, I expect to be sunburned, hungover, bruised and sick of Famous Dave's Hot Links. When ZORG shows up, he may be fresh, but will be out of shape; a hardened Fest veteran will take him, easy, I think. Bill Murrayisms notwithstanding, it's nothing but a blip on the radar, a small stain on the rocks along the lake edge of Summerfest, an ass bubble in the demonstrator hot tubs. One glob of mascara among the Goths on the Rocks.


[Cross-posted to The Summerfest Blog]