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* * * 10/25/2002: The Nile
By: Delicious Deninator

There were 16 bands. We were supposed to play at 9 p.m., we actually played at about 11:30 p.m. and there was no fucking people there. I got set up for this show through a friend, so we didn't have any time to spread the word to the local teens. Matt Marcotte [a.k.a. Ripe bassist] didn't let us borrow his bass amp [and we didn't wanna break into Brett's house cause his dad would've busted out night stick style and beat me down]. So we're at Sean's house, loaded to go, with no bass amp. We got there on time and everything seemed tight. I had to get an X on my hand to show I was in a band [along with Box and Tom] and I felt straight edge. The upstairs was rockin until the microphones stopped working. We met a really cool band named "No Thanx To Paul" and they live in my old town in Tujunga, California. Pretty fucking weird, it's about the same size as FH. They were nice guys with nice tunes, they even hooked us up with an old cd of their band. There was a mix of lots of bands, between reggae, emo, hardcore, and girls. All the bands came down to the basement and it was more packed than a bowl from method man's pipe. Enough of this shit, time to describe the shitty show. My distortion pedal's wire broke, so i borrowed a Marshall halfstack to play with 5 seconds before we played [it was nice, but had no foot pedal, so every song we played (all fucking 5 of 'em) were distortioned]. The nutsacks that said we could borrow their bass amp, left the fucking scene and got pissed off, due to the fact that some asshole jacked 4 of their personal microphones and a guitar. A friend from "Detour To Fame" let us borrow that so we were set. It sounded alright. Oh yeah, the last part. It was so fucking dark in the dungeon that Sean could not see where to connect his bass pedal to the bass drum. It was flappin around like a nutsack the whole time. We played alright, but it was just not hip, the other sires thought the same. Whatever, fuck that.