Naked! In A Freaking Truck!

And other highlights of a not-weak week

Unfortunately, down on the lawn where T2K was being perpetrated, we had a choice: pounding metal with a shrimpy little singer wearing spooooky gray eye makeup all down his cheeks—whooooo!—or pounding techno by any one of a half-dozen DJs spinning at the same time, their beats melding into one another. It was the loudest place I have ever been, and by 3 p.m. (the concert started at 11 a.m.), there were approximately four people present.

An aged Angus steak and free head—hell, even my equal pay for equal work!—couldn't have made us stay.

fabulous: e-mailCommieGirl99@hotmail.com.
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