Sinister: skinny boy, one of the girls

[jarkko frantila]

You should se my face. Sunburnt. BADLY. Really. It's as red as those 
cherrytomatos I ate on saturday. Please, do not write anything that makes me 
laugh, 'cause I can't change the expression on my face without feeling this 
burning sensation on my face. Even lifting my eyebrowns makes me scream 
inside.

Ah yes, festivalfrenzy. 20000 finns (and quite a few swedes, which was 
surprising) going bonkers while Blur is playing Song2. Yes, you should've 
been there. Or maybe not. Blur was shit, you see. Oh, but I'm getting ahead 
of things now. So here, since I'm going to be a FAMOUS popjournalist, is my 
little list of bands that performed at Provinssirock 1999.

-Blur: A bit shit, like I said. But that's my own fault, I haven't listened 
to that new album almost at all. But the encores were good, the old stuff. 
And Jubilee rocked.
-Manic Street Preachers: Ah yes, now were talking. One of the highpoints of 
the festival. What I admire the most about them is their refusal to play 
encores. "Oh, we'll just go away for a while and let them clap their hands 
together, then we'll come back and thank them and continue playing". Urgh. 
Blur did that twice.
-Stereophonics: Nope, they cancelled. =(
-Jimi Tenor: Spending my time in the beertent while he played. Didn't see 
much of him, but it sounded pretty good.
-Skunk Anasie: Bollocks. I've never liked them and never will. "Selling 
Jesus" is a good song, though.
-"Shut up now, no-one wants to hear this."

And so he shut himself up.

Wore something B&S-related every day in there. A few fingers pointed at my 
direction, but no-one came up to me to talk, so I didn't meet any new 
people. Which was one of the reasons I wanted to get there. But no, I just 
strolled around the festival-area, ate food and drank a few beers. But one 
thing that a noticed there: about 50 per cent of the people who go to 
festivals are idiots. Really. It's so nice to sit on the grass on sunday 
morning when an idiot comes up to you and asks if I have any booze, and when 
I say "no" he just insists that I have and la-di-da-di-di-da 
(du-dem-da-dum-dadada-dum).

And really, where do those strange hippie people live when they aren't 
utterly pissed/stoned/drugged up on the campingarea? Just a thought. And the 
best thing to do when you wake up in those festivals: Look for the red 
bitemarks on peoples necks. Some people try to hide them, some people carry 
them with pride. Why? Only God knows, and if he's reading this, I hope he 
doesn't answer. Why some some people (usually 16-year old teens) want to 
show that they had a wild two minutes in a tent with a guy/girl they've 
never met (two minutes that end up when the guy gets his dick out and after 
90 seconds of oh, so clumsy and passionate penetration it's all over, which 
is usally the case), I have no idea. I hope that sentance made some sense. 
And NO, I'm not talking about myself, you silly people. Really, I have 
friends that can back me up on that one.

Ah well, life is sweet. And then I start working.

@--->--- a rose and blahblahblah, Jace le petit.


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