OH MY GOD. I hate people who think they are photographers. I’m sorry. I just hate you. Y U SO GAY?!
This is basically a continuation of my last post, hating on that old guy spending the entirety of The Subway’s set on Facebook. There are so, so many things wrong there. Ew.
Okay so, The Kooks on Monday (omfgtheywassogood) got off to a horrific start, queueing next to what I can only describe as fangirls. Like myself, but louder and squeaker. *facepalm* Really, these were the worst people I have ever encountered. Also, some guy in the queue, in a green overcoat, appeared to be ‘fixing me with the mesmer-stare’ (see below). URGH.
Horrible image quality but the best the interweb offered me. If you haven’t seen that man before, get the hell off my page, bro.
So yeah, creeeeepy.
Things got better after that. The support were amazing, and then there was Luke Pritchard. HI HI. Amazingly amazing. And there were these amazingly Canadian guys I grew fond of in 5 seconds flat. (hi hi!) HOWEVER, the amazingly amazing amazingness was destroyed. And it was destroyed by (dun-dun-duuuuuuun) a middle-aged woman with a goddamn camera.
U R G H. Why, why, why? Watching the band through air > watching the band through camera screen. YOU COULD DO THAT AT HOME BRO. So yeah, this woman was a bloody retard. She threw her drink over my little sister, then proceeded to throw herself around while taking photographs of herself so that it looked as if she was being really ‘hip’ at a really ‘hip’ musical event with a really ‘hip’ band.
But they weren’t even playing. And she elbowed me in the jaw.
And it was after encountering this lady person, that I realised how annoying it is when people in crowds take pictures. Every camera I saw in that room from that moment forward sent me into angry spasms. How am I meant to get my boogie on (hellyeah) when you’re waving your photographic circuit board in my face? Just fuck off.
And so, following the events at The Subways, I report that at The Kooks, I renounced the sacredness of the barrier for the glory of the mosh-pit. Despite this, I still encountered weird old people, and now was faced with the evil that is photographers in the crowd. D I E.
Whenever I see a camera now, I curl up in a ball and cry.