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Ruined Gigs.

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valley_parade:

--- Quote from: KeepACoolin on 07 Mar 2009, 16:52 ---Police concert this July at the Tweeter Center- two drunk middle-aged women in front of me and my friends who kept dancing spastically to every song and completely obstructing our view, which was bad because we had a bad view anyway from the grass lot up at the top.  Eventually one of them fall backward after slipping on the tarp they had laid out and her head landed a few inches from my foot.  I'm glad she didn't land on me, because I think she weighed around three hundred pounds.

--- End quote ---

Yeah, eff the Tweeter Center. I went there for Warped Tour in '07. Having punk bands play in an amphitheater is not a good idea. Plus some fucking dudebro bit me.

Caspian:

--- Quote from: Inlander on 05 Mar 2009, 00:43 ---Okay, I'm prepared to concede that that could have been pretty funny if, as you imply, he raised his fist before realising that the person he was about to punch was a girl.

--- End quote ---

sexist.  :-D

Dazed:
Man, I dig the tweeter center. I saw Rush there and it was bitchin'.

The Joker:
My dad once went to see Black Sabbath (probably in Miami, I don't know).  They came on about an hour too late (if not more) and about a minute into "War Pigs" (which was the second song so far) Ozzy's voice cracked, he slammed the mike down on the stage, and walked off.  That was it; there was no refund or anything.  Brutal.

David_Dovey:
St. Jerome's Laneway Festival '09: After having my face rocked off in definitive fashion by The Hold Steady I decamped towards the main stage in order to be entertained and awestruck by Girl Talk.

Upon commencement of his set it immediately struck me that it all seemed rather quiet. "That's cool," I thought to myself "I guess I am standing a fair way back from the stage, and I can still basically hear what is going on and it is a good set he is throwing down so far." Cue gut-churning clipping from the PA. "Aw jeez," says I, "that was a bit off, sure hope that was an isolated incident." Of course it was not. Every couple of minutes the very soft sounds of the mash-ups was interrupted by the incredibly loud sounds of the PA shitting itself for reasons unknown. Eventually the music had to stop so the incompetent unprepared fucks who were running FOH- already the source of many a veiled and not-so-veiled grumble from artists throughout the day- could attempt to sort out the royal shitfucking they were delivering to the festival's headline act.

During the forced intermission Gillis attempted to keep the crowd going with several shout-outs and such. At some point he grew tired of this and allowed some doucheshit from the crowd to get his furry paws onto the mic, whereupon he fulfilled his juvenile dreams of stardom by hollering several nigh-incomprehensible catchphrases he had lifted from his burnt copies of Nelly CD's down at the increasingly shiftless audience. It didn't help.

Upon resumption of the set there was perhaps a slight decrease in the instances of earfucking distortion, but the result was hardly enough to warrant sticking around. And yet, I did, in the hopes that the mouth-breathers who were employed to run the sound could find a way to make the incredibly complicated setup of one fucking laptop get signal through the speakers without causing massive surges of clipping every minute and because from what I could tell, the set continued to be pretty fuckin' tasty and the knowledge that tickets cost about $100 motherfucker.

As if to reward me for my persistence, the set was then brusquely interrupted by some hairy tool with a t-shirt struggling valiantly to cover the expanse of his fuzzy paunch. The guys must've been an organiser of the festival, because he had a microphone and he obviously believed he had the authority to stop the FUCKING MAIN FUCKING ACT OF THE FUCKING NIGHT to yell at some people who had climbed up in a tree. Quoth the fatty; "Get down from that tree! You're ruining the show for everybody!" Yes, as it turns out it was people in a tree that were ruining this show, not the meatsacks that were running the sound, and definitely not the blowjob who shut down a music festival for what amounted to a "get off my damn lawn" lecture.

It was at this point that my threshold for tolerating punishment was shattered and I collected The Lady, turned my back and exited to Girl Talk restarting for the third time with a mashup of what I think might've been Beyoncé, Nirvana and BRRRRRAWWWWWGGGHNNNNARRRRRGHHHAAARRROHGODWHATTHEFUCK

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