#8 BONKERS

By J.J. Colagrande

Melody Rain is bonkers. And not in an Alice-in-Wonderland-all-the-best-people-are-bonkers kind of way. She’s stupid sometimes. That girl dragged me around Lollapalloza for hours. She had us walking from the north side of the festival Budweiser Stage, past them big Fountains from Married With Children, all the way to the south side Parkways Foundation Stage and then back again, motherfucker. It didn’t seem like we were looking for anyone, except maybe some music. We peeped out The Black Keys in the front court, and then some gypsy Google-Bore-something-or-other in the back court. We seen some fat guy swimming in the fountains, and watched as the cops waited to arrest him. We crawled through Lolla like underground moles, allegedly looking for the Scruffy Guy, yet hitting up the deejay mash-up spot Perry’s. Got clobbered with dubstep bass {{{whoa whoa whoa}}} Whoa, like what the fuck is going on, Melody? And she kept saying it’s-all-good, we have to keep looking cause she didn’t see anyone that looked familiar. I kind of felt like splitting up but then I thought better–the bird might fly the coop, right? Besides, I didn’t know exactly who I was looking for. I mean, I could recognize the Scruffy Guy in a hot second, but Melody Rain kept saying she didn’t know anything about a Scruffy Guy. She said there was a whole crew of bad dudes and all she had to do was see someone she knew and we might be able to find out some information. Meanwhile, she took a break at the Hammock Haven–then dragged me to the Playstation Headquarters, which actually looked kind-a dope. There was a Madden Football challenge going down but I didn’t have time. Just like I didn’t have time or desire to see Lady Gaga headlining later that night, whatever, who cares. Yet we seen Lady Gaga anyway. Melody had me at some place where some weird rocker motherfuckers who were making noise not music brought Lady Gaga out so she could stage dive right into the audience. It was too much for me, bro. I didn’t go to that place to have my hands on Lady Gaga’s hipster ass. I didn’t go to enjoy the festival. I didn’t care about the Kidzapalooza Stage or the Lederhosen’s Biergarten or the Farmers Market or the Adidas Mega Shoe Box. Just like I didn’t care about Green Day or The Strokes or Phoenix or Rusko or Soundgarden or MGMT. No offense to anyone’s music, but what the fuck, my boy Thelonious was sitting in a hospital three miles away. When I put my foot down Melody Rain admitted the peeps we were looking for were likely on the down low. She said at big city shows, they don’t flaunt themselves. She explained about the falafel stands. And I said well, come on now,  lead the way.

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