Coldest eyes with the softest touch.

Holy holy shit. I just slept for eleven hours after having my ears, eyes, heart and soul bombarded with the sweet sounds of Alexisonfire and guests (Attack in Black and Cancer Bats). Michelle and I made a one-night road trip of it, driving up in the dark chowing Timmy's sandwiches, me with barely a finger on the wheel, hands full of bread and cigar. We arrived in the city that feels like home and walked around to burn a few hours that so we wouldn't get suffocated by scenesters in the bar (haha, i'm such a hypocrite, me with me bomber jacket, emo hat, and standard black shirt and jeans). We ventured to Cafe Mexico, my new favourite restaurant, and downed some margaritas until Michelle was drunk enough to call her boyfriend. I sat sideways in the booth, picking the legs off my calamari and letting my slightly inebriated eyes drift around the low-lit cafe, taking in the expanse of mexican knick knacks that were placed miraculously well enough to not seem cheesy. Michelle and I acted like morons, due only in part to the tequila, and to add to the idiocy Michelle announced she had lost her wallet. Which contained her ticket. We drunk-mished it up and over a few blocks to the Starbucks where we had stopped for a bathroom break earlier.
"Hi, did anyone turn in a wallet?"
The girl at the front with cool hair answered, lazily, "No." But then, from the back, a scarily enthusiastic male Starbucks employee hopped into view with an ecstactic 'Yes!!' and reached under the counter to retrieve the coveted purse. "Oh man," He gasped, "We were looking through it *cue Michelle cringing* and we found the ticket and we were all like 'Ooohhhh man, someone's gonna be super choked!' and as the night went on, we totally thought no one was going to pick it up, but here you are!!" We gladly accepted the purse, and as if to ward off the possibility of any more mishaps, we headed straight to the venue. I've never been to Legends before...oh wait, hold on....drunk memories are coming back...yes I have!! It looked a lot different with half the amount of people in it. Anyhow, Michelle and I wandered around trying to find a table and found ourselves standing beside some old highschool acquaintances. Notice I didn't say 'friends'. You can never fucking escape them, can you? The first band started to warm up, so we found a place to the right of the stage (stage left for all you theatre junkies) and parked it conveniently in front of a large fan. (The kind that blows air, not band members.) Attack in Black were pretty cool, not too aggressive, a little punky and quirky. They were fun. Cancer Bats, the second band, fucking rocked my socks off. I've been dipping into the metal genre with timid toes lately, and this band pushed me right in fully clothed. Great stage presence, really got the crowd going. I peered into the pit in envy, my nagging cold and finicky lip ring holding me back from some killer moshing. Plus, I've already racked up a few drunk wounds, so I couldn't really justify receiving any more. Finally, and without a long torturous wait, the band of the night came on. Dallas sported a moustache that George likened to Tom Selleck, which convinced me that Dallas has had enough horny 14-yr-old fans trying to jump his bones. Just seeing that thick caterpillar-esque insult to facial hair perched below his nose was enough to make me want to dry heave. Whatever, I'd still make out with him. Sweet Jesus, the show was awesome, though. They played the perfect mix of old and new, and as usual, were impressed with the vigor and energy of an Island crowd. Fucking nothing beats us, I'm sure. People started piling towards the stage, and I wasn't about to let my height disadvantage ruin a good show, so I stole a bar stool and stood on top. Luckily, no one kicked me off, most likely because I was grinning like an idiot the whole time and if anyone was to rain on my parade, I would probably have kicked them square in the mouth. Michelle and I revelled in our shared love for random air-drum bits, and I think we freaked some people out a few times, particularily when I channelled George at the beginning of one song, complete with spazzy arm movements and eyes rolled into the back of my head. The show ended quickly, around 1:30am, they had already played an all-ages earlier in the day, and after a demanded encore, the background music came on and Michelle and I escaped the crowds out the back door. I was floating. No drug or drink can ever match the feeling I get after a really good show. They inspire me, make me want to eat sleep and breath guitar, tell my parents I'm pursuing a rock star career AGAIN. Fuck, it was incredible. On the ride home, I chugged caffiene and we listened to Alexis the whole way, rocking out to the hard bits while the car veered slightly off the road. It's hard to air guitar when you have to man a steering wheel. (Don't worry, Dad, there was barely anyone else on the road!!) The cops were out in full force, which I didn't expect. We saw three people get pulled over! Luckily, my speedometer doesn't work, so I have an excuse to speed.

Saw Jackass the other day with Dee, Tracey, Chase, Drew, Bry-bry, and hot Scottish David. My brother and his gang of friends showed up too, we were pretty much the only people in the theatre. I laughed my ass off, it amazes what those guys can do to their bodies for the sake of entertainment. They have absolutely no qualms about pain! It's incredible.

Rugby club tonight! What an awesome two days off.