Gigs.

Gig. That’s a funny word. gig gig gig gig gig gig gig gig gig giiig giiiiiiiiiiiiiig.

Giggidy.

Glenn Quagmire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I digress. As you know, I went to see my fav0urite band on Saturday, as you know also, it was EPIC. But being at my first standing concert I realised that there are a few cons to it.

First of all, being a dwarf like me, sometimes it is difficult to get a good view behind that red-haired giraffe that is everywhere you look. However this is easily solved by jumping which brings me onto my next complaint : feet. Like drunken zebra hooves converse and vans drive over your toes and the balls of your feet throb to the beat from the constant jumping like tigger

A waterfall of … what was that? dribbles down your face and drenches you already sweat-drenched t-shirt. Which leads me to another disadvantage, the stale soup of Body Odor that teases your nose and sticks your jeans to your thighs and makes you feel sticky. And then there’s those people who stand there texting. Or the couple sucking each others faces off and taking up all your personal space, not that it really existed in the first place, you’re constantly feeling up or being felt up by stray arms.

But who cares?!?!? You’re at a concert For Crying Out Loud!