I went to a Panic [Exclamation Point Place Holder] at the Disco Concert yesterday with Patty. I don’t know why… I don’t like the band. But I like concerts!!!! And shitty pop-rock bands, if they have any purpose in this life, is to be somewhat entertaining live. The music is simple enough and catchy enough to break the strongest of men given the right circumstances.

So the day came for us to go. I honestly didn’t want to go because I’ve been super sick these past few days, but I wasn’t going to throwaway the 50 bucks I thoughtfully spent (wasted). As much as I hate Patty she is too lame and insecure to go by herself and I guess I felt bad (because I have a soul, SO THERE!!!). So we went.

There was a BABILLIONxAGOOGOOPLEX of people in the Roseland Ballroom, which is basically a large room with a stage…It was filled to the brim with eleventeen year olds and their parents (tee hee). I’m about 5′4″ so this was the first concert where I thought I would actually be able to see.

Patty and I get there a little late and the place is dripping with drunken middle schoolers, dangling from the ceiling and balconies, making unfunny ironic jokes about Pete Wentz and serious threats like “I’m gonna get front and center even if I have to cut a nigga, PUSH THROUGH BITCH!!”

Patty and I are standing on the outskirts of the concert hall. Then all of a sudden this HUGE wave of eleventeens shoves us and before we knew it we were center. This kept happening all night, overpowering surges of “Like OMG IT’S BRANDON look at his face, it’s strangely feminine like a chicks, lol NO HOMO!!!XD” I was literally standing on my tippy toes and holding onto the bra strap of a stranger for dear life. The amount of underage dry humping that I was forced to do against my will should certainly qualify for a court sentencing.

Now of course all of this energy would be a good thing at a concert. But honest to fucking god, Panic at the Disco. There was crowd surfing at a Panic at the Disco Concert. Dubayoo. Tee. Eff. That’s like slam dancing to Barry Manilow. It’s condemnable by GOD.

I’m trying to get into this concert, even though I give no fucks and this drunk teenage bitch with sparkle eye shadow is rocking the fuck out like she is having an epileptic fit. The best thing about super crowded concerts is that you can physically assault people without them knowing that you are trying to kill them dead.

This whooer was waving her smelly pits and stabbing me in the temple with her elbows, so I just kept punching her in the kidney all night. It was satisfying.

The thing that bothers me the most though, is drunk people with clearly NOT drunk friends who support their “friend’s” drunkenness. And this bitch had two cunt friends that literally patted her on the back whenever she was especially obnoxious to the point that people were making faces and passing out at the smell of her prepubescent arm pit funk. Oh, how I miss high school.

Another thing that I don’t get is people that go to concerts and just stand there and record the show on their cameras and phones. What a waste of money and what a superfabdeluxwaste of money because you spent it on this shitty concert that you only came to record on your shitty camera, so that you can watch a shitty quality video because you are too far away and live audio always sucks. Also now you have to deal with me punching you in the kidney because your arms are in my fucking way and maybe this wouldn’t be a problem if there weren’t 500 other people doing the same thing as you.

But what takes the cake is the thirteen year old whores that came dressed like whores, are drunk out of their minds and are with their parents. What’s funny is that their parents think they are doing a good job by being an escort, meanwhile these teenage strumpets are drinking in the bathroom, taking off their training bras and punching each other in the face so that they can feel Brandon Urie’s sweat on them when he sings his songs about how he likes to fuck other dudes and how the moon is awfully pretty at night.

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Posted: May 9th, 2008 under concerts, new york city, pop culture, reviews.
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