Saw Nine Inch Nails tonight at the Hordern with and Tommy/orchard. I thought it was tops. Trent played most of his old hits and the “people’s favourites”. I was most impressed. There was no encore, but there weren’t any popular songs left to play in an encore anyway, so no one seemed to look disappointed.
The warm up/support band was fucking horrendous. As fucking usual. What’s with support acts being completely shithouse? The only time I’ve seen support acts I like was when The Drugs played before TISM (but the act before them was bad) and when the Spazzys and Butterfingers (but the Spazzys were better) played before Machine Gun Fellatio. Every other concert I’ve been to has had not only forgettable, but painful support acts. These pricks tonight didn’t even say hello or goodbye. They didn’t say who they were either. I don’t think anyone even knew who they were, let alone care.
Afterwards we walked back to the flat by foot, after wandering around Moore Park trying to decide whether to bus or taxi our way back. Now my feet are sore after about 90 minutes worth of walking. At least we didn’t get the bus back. On the way there I got abused by some shit-eating bus driver for only having a $10 note to pay for my fare. I already felt bad because I know they find it irritating (which I think is pretty lame that they do, but I tried to play along like a good commuter). I even dug out 60 cents in change for the $1.60 fare, so that it was nice and rounded out for him. My efforts were in vain as he gave me a death stare while I apologised for not having anything smaller. “That’s what they all say,” he said. He went on to tell me I should have prepared earlier and had smaller change available. I told him I didn’t have time to go and get change because I was in a hurry, since I had a bus to catch and all. What a fucker. Scott noticed he didn’t have his license/registration displayed in the appropriate slot either, so I was tempted to make a complaint and nail the bastard well and good, but I can’t be stuffed.
Huw’s having his buck’s night tomorrow. I’m going to meet up with them after work. I’ll probably only be able to make it to have a beer or two and watch the rugby and then hit some karaoke den for a bit of vocal chord action. I’m scared.
No, do it for your country… and film the whole thing.
I wanted to. The only problem is that I’m camera shy.
Ooh, that’s what friends are for.
I don’t have any friends. I’ve been left all alone in Newtown with only a skinny little vegetarian guy.
A skinny vegetarian, give him to me and I’ll fatten him up.