a pretty fucking awesome birthday gift:
A trip to New York to see our favorite band, The Pogues.
Before the gig we started out with some mandatory
sightseeing.
Warning: We're not very normal people,
so don't expect to find any typical tourist pictures in this
somewhat retarded travel "reportage".
Americans, got to love'em:
This store caught our attention.
(We don't have stores in Norway that sell oxygen.
It's free over here! Wheelchairs too, actually.)
Hail Satan! (Taken from outside CBGBs)
Americans sell a lot of...eh...what can I call it,
well, let's call a spade for a spade: crap!
They sell a lot of weird crap.
Example 1:
A Jesus-action figure? When I was young we had He-Man
and Star Wars-figures. In short ACTION figures. Who the hell
want their kids to play with Jesus? "Hey son, go play with Jesus,
me and your mother need some privacy!"
FREAKY!
What's even more freaky is this so called action figure:
Example 2:
I mean, HELLO, COME ON! SIGMUND FREUD!? Unless you
want to seriously damage your kid mentally, you DON'T
give him/her a SIGMUND FREUD ACTION FIGURE.
Kid playing with a Freud figure: "So, you love your mother?
Ah, splendid! I'm jealous of dad, he sleeps with mom.
Let's kill him. You kill him, Sigmund! Let's put poison
in his tea, mom is OURS! For all eternity! UGH!"!
If it doesn't fuck him up, it will surely make a
SUPERNERD out of him.
Oh, well. Whatever makes em happy!
Anyways, we didn't have time go to The Statue of Liberty
or The Empire State Building. Instead we watched this
huge ass flatscreen TV with about 1000 channels.
It was truly entertaining watching all the commercials
at day time. I guess we saw about a hundred different
medicine commercials. They must have a couple of
BILLION different pills for every single part of the body, every
single human feeling/condition, etc.
Scary.
"Headache? QUICKFIX relieves tension. Buy today!"
"Does your shit stink? Buy SMELLAWAY CONTAX!"
"Do you have economical problems? Buy Buckster Pills NOW!"
"Are you tired in the morning? Eat 50 Xhalphonics, and you
never want to sleep again!"
"Do you have a itch somewhere on your body right at this
minute!? It might be the bird flu or stomach cancer -
buy Zhilophinics before it's too late!"
"Are you afraid of death? Buy LIVE4EVER TENTEX.
Only $100 for one box with two pills. Save your family today!"
"Is your child hyperactive? Give him crack-cocaine, and
he won't bother you for years!"
It must be tough being alive over there.
Well, here's one typical tourist picture. The Twin Towers:
...or Ground Zero as it's called today.
Well, enough piss:
I'll get to the point.
THE POGUES. March 16th 2006.
Me and my girlfriend before the gig. A somewhat sober
moment, before all hell broke loose.
We were fortunate enough to get on the guestlist.
That meant we also got VIP-passes! I wasn't aware of that!
GODE TING, as we say in Norway.
Translation: GOOD THINGS!
After way to many expensive "Jack and Cokes" and beers,
we stumbled upon a VIP seating area - or the gallery
(or whatever it's called).
Who wants to sit at a Pogues-concert? Really? Well,
"when in Rome with VIP-passes." As long as we had
struck gold, we had to give it a go.
Great view though!!!
..."great view"!
All you can see is me on the picture, but that's great, isn't it?
The only available table when we "discovered" the VIP-
area was reserved to someone called Lindsay Lohan.
That name didn't say me squatdiddlyshit, so I brought it
down to the little boys room. Where I felt it belonged.
While at the bathroom, I also took the time to unleash some
narcissistic behaviour:
FREAKY!
When I got back to "our" table, the concert started.
OH JOY!
STREAMS OF WHISKEY!
A picture of Shane, portrayed in the way he probably
sees the world:
After about 4-5 songs someone "tapped" me not so
lightly on the shoulder.
I turned around and my eyes met KING KONG.
Or so I thought. This huge, muscular guy shouted
(and spit) in my face: THIS TABLE IS RESERVED!
My brilliant logical senses told me that "Reserved Lindsay Lohan"
was in the house! This brutal individual gave me no option
than to leave "our" magnificent table.
While Ms. Lohan and her entourage took over the table,
I went over and chatted a bit with the bodyguard. I asked
him who the hell Lindsay was, but he wouldn't answer.
All he said was: "They are people with money, I protect them"
Allright then.
I went to the side of their table and continued enjoying the show.
It kind of annoyed me that I didn't know who she was, so
paparazzi-style I took out my camera and snapped a shot of
her face - for later research, of course!
Mistake!
The bodyguard grabbed my neck and lifted me about 6
feet straight up, while he screamed frantically:
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?
While gasping for air and going towards the white light,
I replied: taa-taa-taaaking a-a-aaaaa pic-pikk-
picture off-f The Pogues.
Lindsay came over and saved the situation.
I spanked, I mean - thanked her politely and
had a brief conversation with her.
Thank you, Lindsay.
You saved my life!
In about two seconds everything was forgotten and
I focused on The Pogues for the rest of the set.
TERRIFIC SHOW INDEED!
With the VIP-passes we got to go to the afterparty.
And I was lucky enough to get a picture with this beauty:
None of the Pogues-guys showed up.
...I think.
After a long and strenuous night we went back to my
friend's place and went to sleep.
Digression: My friend's name is Christopher and he lives
in the West Village. That's why I found this picture hilarious:
The next day I googled "Lindsay Lohan".
And yippikahyeay, motherfucker. To my astonishment,
while watching the pictures through a frenzy of saliva og drool,
I remembered FREAKY FRIDAY! The greatest movie of all time!
(Eh, well, now it is anyways!!!)
Hotdiggitydamn!
To my girlfriends irritation I haven't talked much about
anything else after that encounter.
Truly a night to remember. An awesome Pogues-show and a
"special" meeting with the one and only LINDSAY!
