Festivity

And since some people refer to it as a stupid thing - and I so do agree with them, I shall not put up any photos of the bands that played during the fest because that would be stupid. Or photos of the crowd that transmogrified the fest into what is believed to be Sarawak's answer to Woodstock or some cow dung like that. Although I really can't see how that thing should even be compared to the most sacred musical event the world had ever witnessed. And Woodstock happened only once.

To a few, its almost like a pilgrimage of some kind. Some folks do it for the music, some for the party like friendly atmosphere. A lot attend the fest specifically for the booze, sex and the whatnot's etc etc etc. But its really up to you.

Ok, so Jas who came last year for the festival was back into familiar territory and like last year, got very drunk and made new friends.

Lots of new friends...of the female persuasion. And they all loved posing with him.

And then there was this one who wanted to play lap dance with him in the car.

I didn't get to meet Carlos Ramos aka Jesus from last years thing and I vividly remembered him promising a second coming this year. I was hoping to bump into him and maybe get spiritually inspired but that didn't happen. But I did meet a few beautiful women who made funny faces each time I took a photo shoot with them. I don't know why they do this. This one here is perhaps the only decent one of many that was stored in my camera.

It is perhaps the norm that one should get highly intoxicated before entering the concert venue. I was informed that this is a ritual obligation at the fest.

One kanid remarked, "How can anyone of sane mind even get in there without getting high first?". Right.

Needless to say, I didn't see him at the concert that night.

And up there is a reminiscence of what occurred last year at my crib. Now if the front porch incident was last years highlight, this year however, my take would have to be the 'boobies falling out' scene. That was definitely one hell of a show.

And so, all 24 cans of big cats I stuffed in my back pack was wiped out in a matter of minutes. Ditto with what was left of the Label 5 - leftover from what we couldn't finish last year. What will ever quench the thirst of my fellow brothers is something to ponder on.

This year the ritual was organised over at a kanid's crib which incidentally was by the beach. Jas and I didn't do the beach party this time but I was informed that all manners of human atrocity and drunken debauchery manifested right there at the beach front for the three nights. All which made events at Sodom and Gomorrah pale in comparison. Which very much sums up what the fest is all about for some quarters. I think.

As for me, lets just say that I have yet again failed to enjoy the concert this year or digest the very reason why I was even there. Oh, I was digesting, alright. Lots and lots of big cats and whatnot's.

If there is one, and only one thing that came out good from this year's thing, it has got to be my discovery of being able to fit 24 cans of big cats into my back pack. With room for a bottle of whiskey. Its a miracle, really.

Damn it!!! I still have that lion-sleep-tonight song playing in my fucking head!!!