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ACL–First Impressions

6 Oct

I went to my first music festival Sunday–Austin City Limits. It’s a three-day festival featuring over 100 bands and over 1o,000 striped tank tops.

OH! Hey man! You're standing on my foot.

OH! Hey man! You're standing on my foot.

The most popular bands there were the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s, Dave Matthews Band, Kings of Leon, the B-52’s (Just kidding–about them being a big band. They were really there.), and Pearl Jam. If any of you follow my Twitter you may have gotten a reasonable play by play of my ACL experience. For those of you who aren’t on my Twitter boat, I’ll throw you a life line.

The drive to ACL is fun and enjoyable. It’s all nice and stuff. Derek is driving.


Hi, Derek. "Hello! Did you know your days are numbered?! LOL," Says Derek.

We drive by a number of notable roadside attractions. Derek won’t stop for any of them. Not even the “Inner Space” caverns in Georgetown, Texas. The poster had a mammoth on it. I was really excited when I saw this, until Derek told me that mammoths never, ever lived in caverns. When the same poster comes up with a sabretooth tiger instead of a mammoth, I look to Derek with a look of childlike wonderment. He simply shakes his head and points for me to keep my eyes forward.

We reach the ACL at some fucking time.

Good god there were so many people. My pre-ACL promise of “Beating up all the dudes and screwing all the girls” began to seem much, much more improbable.

As we enter the grounds, our tickets are taken. We walk a few more steps and observe the vastness that is Zilker Park. I adjust myself. Derek and I are both wearing our super-tight ACL jeans. My quads look fantastic by my package is furious. Calm down package, shit.

Inside. Chaos. Utter madness. Rain from the night before has laid upon the earth a layer of mud three inches thick. It looks like warm chocolate pudding. It smells like lake water.

Derek needs to go pee. We find the port-a-potties and stand in line. There are some girls in front of us. I weep for them. The thought of sitting down on a port-a-potty always fills me with the worst kinds of fear and sickness. “They butt is thy temple,” Psalms 21324:23

"Kyle, that isn't a real verse." "Well, Kirk, you're not a real actor OR a real evangelist, you're just a gross mix of the two."

"Kyle, that isn't a real verse." "Well, Kirk, you're not a real actor."

Kirk Cameron hates me now. My only celebrity friend is James Woods.

James woods is my only celebrity friend.



Me and the old D-bag get done with our port-a-potty adventure (peeing) and head to the main stage. My brother is there (rumored). I couldn’t find him all day.

Merely a ghost among the wall of humans in front of me.

Merely a ghost among the wall of humans in front of me.

Some Cubans forced me and Derek from our spot in front of the stage.

I saw Pearl Jam and it was awesome.

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