Remember that cute straight boy whom I occasionally fawned over? Well, he still exists, and he still is pretty.
He's on the committee to decide which bands come to play on campus, and this weekend he managed the local Hardcore festival, and somehow managed to convince me to come along.
Now, I'm no stranger to the hardcore scene. My best friend's friend (she could also be classified as my friend, I suppose, but she lived about 30 miles away and we never really hung out) was a major player in the local hardcore scene, and I've attended my fair share of shows.
Now, there may be a few of you thinking to yourselves, "You're from the middle of Wisconsin. You don't have real punks," to which I reply "That just means that we have more to rebel against, bitch!"
For my more adventurous readers, here's an mp3 of a similar band to those that played this weekend. Actually, this band is probably a bit too... soft to have played in the concert this week, but I figured that if I'm going to post music that no one is going to enjoy, it might as well be by a gay band. Keeping it in the family, or something.
I love hardcore boys, I love boys hardcore.mp3 by LimpxWrist
You can imagine how out of place I felt.
Except! Remember the poem I wrote with the line about making out with boys in the front row of mosh pits?
That was smart of me.
I'd forgotten how pretty underweight boys with unkempt hair and hoodies can be. There were so many pretty boys standing around the outer rim of the mosh pit. I enjoyed the eye candy much more than the music, let me tell you.
Of course, I should mention that emo/punks don't always have the best hygiene, and that the entire audience smelled. I tend to believe that the pretty boys smell wonderful, and it is all of those scary beasts in the mosh pit who smell rancid, but there's no way for me to prove that. The smell of BO, blood, and vomit doesn't exactly trip my trigger, so there was no making out in the mosh pit for me.
Actually, I didn't talk to any of the pretty boys in hoodies, because I'm a pansy like that. I don't meet people well, as I've stated earlier, and I try to stay away from drunk overweight guys with dog collars and mohawks.
There's a chance that you guys might actually enjoy this second mp3. The song is about not going out often because people are stupid. It could be my theme song. Or something.
Trouble with Public Places by Cadallaca.
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.