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[personal profile] becala
It was a typical weekend, or at least a typical party weekend. The following photos are new, however they are representative of events that occur at every good party I've ever attended:

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Figure 1. In which the Irish and the Vikings party together. Historically accurate, neh?

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Figure 2. Duffy gets hurt/puts on a fashion show.

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Figure 3. In which I am v. drunk and v. happy.

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Figure 4. In which I look like a fucking badass while doing or wearing something completely incongruous.



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Figure 5. In which I look like I am either irritated or smelling something bad, when in fact I am rocking out.
This is on the backswing of a low-key headbang.

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Figure 6. In which I am doing something completely classy (vomiting in the bushes)
and Eric decides to call attention to it, and then demands pictures.

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Figure 7. In which there are tits and booze and heavy metal.
Except once upon a time it was me occupying the role.
Now there are other, younger girls who carry the torch.

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Figure 8. In which Lane looks like he drank sour piss.

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Figure 8.1. And again.
It's hard to look grvm when you are wearing a trucker hat that says Dad.

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Figure 9. In which a lady is afraid of the Erics.




I'm very glad I was able to go to this, and I will be going again next year. What a fucking awesome bunch of people. Except for Vomit Guy, but there's always one of those. Other than that, good times. There's not really too much to say that the pictures don't tell: We arrived late on Friday, set up camp, and then spent the next 48 hours listening to live and recorded music, swimming and soaking up the sun, and generally just hanging out and being chill and friendly.

And yes, people got drunk, and people got stupid, and they did this while competing in the the Beer Olympics, which I was able to participate in with one shot of whiskey = one glass of beer. (Pretty much all beer and cider use corn sugar to feed the yeast, so I pretty much can't have any of it.) But they were drunk and stupid in the best way possible, without any of the out of control stupidness that can (and does happen) in a lot of situations like this. What a really great bunch of kids who have made a really wonderful community for themselves.

So the story of Vomit Guy. Vomit guy just started out as creepy toucher guy. It all started when I went down to the beach. I started talking to this really rad punk rock girl, who happened to also have the same name as me, and one of the dudes that was sitting nearby was clearly SO INTERESTED in what I was saying (or the swimsuit I was wearing) that he kept interrupting us to ask me questions. It creeped me out, so I took off almost as soon as I was dry enough to put my shorts back on.

Later that day, during the swimming portion of the Beer Olympics, I was walking back to my car from the beach to get more whiskey, some guy yelled from across the road, "Hey, nice shirt," so I went to talk to him. It was a different guy, who had actually thought I was wearing a Deicide shirt. I was not, it was an Asphyx shirt, but I took the opportunity to talk to the guy about Deicide, because they were one of my first heavy metal loves. Well, after Iron Maiden, of course. And the SAME GUY was sitting at their camp site. And he once again, interrupted a really pleasant conversation I was having to ask me something retarded. So I left again. And as I was walking away, he yelled, "Hey sexy lady, come back!" which caused me to both walk faster, and stay back at the stage area and wait for the beach party to return there rather than walk past Camp Creepy again.

Once the next stage of the Olympics started, Creepy Guy comes up to the festivities and starts talking to people. I notice that every time he talks to a woman, he touches her back. Caresses it really, for quite some time. Which is when I named him Creepy Toucher Guy. Well, this girl had her entire team give up on her before the swimming portion, so she started requisitioning new teammates for the Human Pyramid and the Hula Hoop portions. I ended up on a team with the guy, which is when I let him know that yelling "hey sexy lady" at people was not a good way to make it with the ladies, and also that touching my back was not going to get him anywhere either, and he should stop it. He took it well, and he actually stopped it with me, but not anyone else. So we were good for the day. And also our team won the next two contests, because I was the apex and somehow, after downing three shots, managed to stand up AND reach for the sky without falling.

So yeah, the shots led to the puking, and then I sadly passed out halfway through that night's music, probably sometime around midnight or 1am. I woke up feeling not too happy, and had one goal in mind: Find my coffee cups, make coffee, get book from car, and then sit in our quiet campsite and smoke a fag and drink some coffee and read my book before anyone woke up. So the requisitioning of mugs and making of coffee worked fine. But when I went out to my car, Creepy Toucher Guy came stumbling round the corner, clearly still up from the night before, with a beer in his hand. He yelled, at a volume that was not helpful to my hangover, "HAAAAAYYY, BECCAAAAAA!" and then started walking toward me. I grabbed my book from the front seat of the car, and when I turned around, he was standing about FOUR INCHES from my face, blocking me from walking out from behind my car door and shutting it, or really going anywhere at all. Even better, he had a streak of vomit and spit dried to his chin. Which was right in my face. It was really appalling.

So I said, "Not now dude, it's way too early." He said some blah-blah drunk stuff, and I said, "Yeah man, you're drunk, and I'm not, and I just want to go back to my camp site and sit quietly with my book, okay?" and he said, "Where's your quiet camp site?" I was like, "You don't need to know that." and pushed past him and started walking. He started following me. At which point I said, "Dude, FUCK OFF. Do NOT follow me." When that came out of my mouth I realized that I might have just made sure he was definitely going to follow me and definitely start some very loud, very dramatic shit. However he did not. He actually apologized for bugging me early in the morning, and he yelled, "Becca, you rock!" after me.

I gotta hand it to the guy, he's a pretty laid back drunk, and that's cool. However, I could have done without the predatory behavior and the dried vomit. For real.

But each of those episodes accounted for about 30 total minutes of an otherwise AWESOME weekend.
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becala

May 2013

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