Editor's Note: I'm high right now. As such, it's not in my capabilities to formally report on the Sasquatch Festival and all the coolness that is me experienced. Rest assured, after I fully and completely recover from all the drinking and smoking and, yes, tobacco chewing, I'll feel more inclined to delve deeper.
By the way, I'd like to announce to the world that Sarah Camiel is my new bestest friend ever. Anybody who can hook me up with a dime is tops in my book. It feels so nice to have access to the ganja again, if only for a day or two.
I have a responsibility to myself to make sure I write every day, so here we go.
You ever notice that with some kinds of hail they get the look of crack cocaine rocks pelting you from the skies above? You ever feel the pain of getting pounded in your ass and not even getting the courtesy from God to get a proper reach-around? My stars, it was brutal. I think Joe's right. I think God just hates Niko Case. No more playing, not from you!
Wanna wanna, wanna Fanta. Fanta in the morning, Fanta in the evening, Fanta at supper time.
Beck has such contempt for the song "Loser" that he doesn't even play it live anymore; he just plays the CD version with puppets playing instruments on stage; and no, he's not one of the puppeteers.
The lead singer of Queens of the Stone Age can be the most terrifying man when you're being shoved around by 500 of your sweatiest, manliest friends. Terrifying to a guy with glasses who knows at a moment's notice that lead singer can initiate a piercing howl that'll send the already overzealous crowd into a frenzy of epic proportions, causing a certain glasses-wearing, articles of clothing-losing individual with both of his shoe laces untied to trip and become trampled under sneakered foot.
I didn't have sex this weekend, but I'm pretty sure my ass contracted seven kinds of hepatitis, rabies, and syphilis due to sitting twice on one of those Honeybucket Port-A-Potties toilet seats.
Matisyahu was so good, he damn near had me converted to Judaism and hollerin' out
Jerusalem, if I forget you,
fire not gonna come from me tongue.
Jerusalem, if I forget you,
let my right hand forget what it's supposed to do
The Shins were good, but unremarkable. The Tragically Hip were remarkable, but not very good. It took me about 52 seconds to think up that little witicism, and I went and made it a point to remember that so I could show it off later. Bravo.
Here's a tip: "People will always laugh if you do a one-man, mouth-made imitation of the orchestral version of Metallica's 'One'. Always, it's the funniest thing ever."
The Flaming Lips have fully and officially kicked my ass the most of any band I've ever seen. They put on absolutely THE best show of all time. I was like a child, grinning from ear to ear, jumping up and down in my spot next to the fence, clapping and singing along louder than anyone.
On Sunday, when I was running low in cigarettes, I left the lower middle section in front of the stage after The Decemberists to go to the shop and buy more. But, when I got there, their walls were completely barren where the cigarettes should have been. None more would be forthcoming. (The festival was sponsored by "Tobacco Smokes You.com" by the way. Yeah, it was smoking me all around that concourse). But, this was my lucky day; they still had one can of chewing tobacco. By this time, I'd finished the second half of my Jack Daniels, had a few Vodka & Coke's, a beer or two, and then half of the alcohol I snuck inside the Gorge by taping it to my leg under my pants (and later ripping off enough hair to make a toupee). So, my decision-making was a little impaired to say the least. I figured, sure, why not? I mean, I bet it just tastes like you're chewing on wet and soggy cigarettes.
Then, when I shoved a fingerful into my lower lip, I realized that chewing on wet and soggy cigarettes isn't actually as tasty as it sounds. For the next hour I was spitting out the residue and bemoaning the loss of seven dollars. Later I got sick and almost passed out before Beck. It was touch and go for a while; I almost just passed out right there. It's lucky Gretchen found me.
I'm trying to remember the Flaming Lips playlist, I have the songs but not the order. Here's the rundown, almost correct.
Race For The Prize
Bohemian Rhapsody
Free Radicals
Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots pt. 1
Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots pt. 2
My Cosmic Autumn Rebellion
The W.A.N.D.
She Don't Use Jelly
The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song
Do You Realize??
encore break
War Pigs
They played every song I would've wanted except for Fight Test, but that's okay because they fucking played She Don't Use Jelly which is an OLD classic of theirs.
I've decided that when I make it, I'm gonna stay high every minute of the day with my poncho, live alone in alaska in a cabin in the woods, listening to live Queens of the Stone Age on repeat.
Beck played a solo acoustic version of "Do You Realize??" too. It was good, but not as.
Ben Harper's probably one of the top 500 steel guitar players I know, for sure. Count on it.
I met two dudes, friends, and they were from Portland and one looked like the lead singer for the Dandy Warhols and one looked like the lead singer of Brian Jonestown Massacre. It was eerie.
Man, I've taken like a million great rips tonight. I'm in heaven