California bros, anyone going to Aftershock?!

[youngthrasher9]

I'm probably gonna go. Might just fly solo depending who's available or if I can find a chick who's into concerts.

[Agileguy]

Being 50 miles away from Limp Bizkit is about as close as I want to get.

[youngthrasher9]

I'm going to day 2, bro. Mastodon is gonna be there. Fucking Mastodon.

---

I'm with you, though. Limp Bizkit blows dick.

[Securb]

I'm probably gonna go. Might just fly solo depending who's available or if I can find a chick who's into concerts.

Chick? Who are you The Fonz?

[Agileguy]

For some reason I thought you didn't like Mastodon. Eh, I've seen them like three or four times now. Don't get me wrong, they're awesome, but I wouldn't go to a festival to see one band, unless it's stupid cheap. I mean Lacuna Coil is cool but ehhhhh

[Big Flannel]

When is the show? I need an excuse to visit California.

[Agileguy]

mid september

[Big Flannel]

Fuck it I can't go. Next time, Chris.

[Agileguy]

I still think we need to do a UIG event. Vegas sounds like a shitload of fun - maybe sometime next summer?

---

Or maybe spring break.

[Big Flannel]

I still think we need to do a UIG event. Vegas sounds like a shitload of fun - maybe sometime next summer?

I've been saying that for a while, I even talked to Brandon about it a couple months ago.

It would be like Judgement Night meets Very Bad things. (Everybody who sees that movie tells me that I'm Christian Slater's character)

Here's how I picture it:

The morning sun casts monolithic shadows across the desert as private jet (with a rooster painted crudely on the side) makes it's way to a lone airfield. Clearly hungover the passengers emerge while giving the sun the finger and proceed to the penthouse.

That's where the party happens. Jon is losing his shirt at the blackjack tables, Luci has an IV bag full of moonshine running straight to the jugular, Jolly is pricing an all-you-can-eat butt buffet in the VIP lounge while I'm making sure that Chris doesn't drown in his own vomit, let alone the toilet he's been abusing for the past hour.

After Karp and Ryan finish spit-roasting a showgirl, Darth puts the camera down and we eat 50 buttons of peyote before heading back into the desert from whence we came to have the greatest jam session of all time.