There's another sofa straddling the alley gates where our bins get collected from.
There's a bag of rubbish dumped in our newly-emptied bin.
Fucking scrubbers.
FOO!
Saw the Foo-Fah Fighters at the City of Manchester stadium last night: brilliant.
I didn't have my big camera with me, so the zoom's not particularly brilliant, but hey, that's life.
Waiting 45 mins to get to the bar, finally getting served as the band started their act, then being told that there was no water and only one bottle of Diet Coke? Absolute fucking bollocks.
If these stadiums are so utterly rubbish at providing bar services. Look at them all with their Fosters packs on their backs! Where were the bastards selling soft drinks?
Why don't they just let people bring their own soft drinks in instead of being total Nazis about it?
Arseholes
10 comments:
I've vowed never to go to another stadium gigs, for the reasons you mention plus the fact I never really feel like I'm there 'cause I'm so far away.
I bet Trump had a better experience at the Breeders gig for being in a much smaller venue.
Then the question comes, 'what if your fav band only do stadium gigs?' Well.... that's a tricky one...
The stadium gig that tipped me over the edge was Muse at Earls Court about 3 years ago. Missed bloody secret machines, was sat in the gods and worse still had to put up with the fucking Zutons who are shite.
Like the Foo Fighters, not enough to endure THE STADIUM.
Fucking english is dreadful... sorry for that.
I agree too (I've been doing a lot of that this week - I must be ill).
I remember having a blazing argument with 'door security' because I had a (unopened) can of Coke with me at a concert.
The explanation was that I could have put alcohol in it, which wasn't permitted.
The fuckwit couldn't understand that (a) they sold alcohol in the venue, so what was the fucking problem?
and (b) my can of Coke was unopened! Fucking twat.
We all know it's so they can sell us overpriced/watered down beer and stuff (at the same time as ripping us off for tatty merchandise).
Same goes for the threat of having camera's confiscated for taking a photo... fucking load of bollocks.
I hate concerts.
And being sat sooooooooooo fucking far away, despite bagging myself a ticket withing 3 seconds of them going on sale.
And just who the fuck are that lot that seem to be at the front at every fucking concert I've ever been to?
And don't get me started on all those greedy cunts that bag nearly every concert ticket going, just so they can flog them off for rip-off prices on eBay.
Cunts. The lot of them.
Oh and the water and diet Coke was sold out because all the fucking druggies, that find it impossible to listen to music without chemical enhancement, had bought them.
And my fucking English was dreadful there too. I'm also sorry.
It's all your fault for stirring our emotions.
Next up: Dolly Parton at the MEN arena, followed by the wonderful B52s at the Manchester Academy.
And back on stadium gigs - what about the toilets? Disgusting. You pay good money for these tickets and you're treated like animals from the second you're within a minute's walk of the venue.
At least there weren't any of those gypsies peddling fluffy cowboy hats last night.
Trump would've bought one of those cowboy hats if she could.
We know.
And if you'd bought one, everyone would've thought you'd had your hair done.
I had a good time, despite having to apologise to the beer server for Sniff's tantrum.
The thing that gets to me is all the fucking kissing couples. I'm happy to spend a lot of money to see bands - not to watch sodding emo (don't get me started on that one) teenagers slop all over eachother.
I bet Taz & Piggy went to see Cher. Or Sealion Dion.
I bet they're into crotch rock like Whitesnake and Def Leppard. Nice tight, very faded jeans.
Lovely.
The last concert we went to was Kylie at Wembley.
Previous to that, Tazzy (note I said Tazzy and not me) went to see Madonna and... wait for it ...
Steps!
What a fucking poof, eh?
If i ever had cause to visit Sealion Dione, it would be to shoot her and put the rest of us out of our misery.
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