Mother of god!!!! Third year that I'm being screwed over to see Conor Oberst at Coachella. It's ridiculous to the point where I think the world is against me and Conor ever locking eyes and falling madly in love for fear that our children will usher in the Apocalypse, or at least write terrible pop songs that no person should ever be subjected to. Let's see what previous (and soon to be previous) years have forced me to choose between:
2004, Conor versus Air/Muse.
2005, Conor versus me having a ride home because he was the last act of the night.
2009, Conor versus Franz Ferdinand.
I mean, COME ON! It's Franz FREAKING Ferdinand! They're the love of my dancefloor life! The odds are constantly stacked against me each year that it doesn't make sense anymore. I'm going to sulk underneath my desk at work now.
No comments:
Post a Comment