Festival Feathers and The Wispy Pirate Wench

Back in Athens after a bubble-filled, BeAts-so-fresh, trampoline hippity hop TREASURE ISLAND TROMPATHON.

The whirlwind event in a nutshell---->--->

Woke up late on Friday after a night of Drinkopoly and Improv singing (in Spanish) about assorted platos de quesooo and immediately everything was in rambles. In addition to getting what I believe to be a tiny almond stuck in my eye, TicketMaster deleted my festival ticket and I had to coax a nervous, fiddling woman by the name of Sherry to send me another. Dayum, Dayum, Dayuummm Sherry!

Grimez.


After getting myself untangled, we were off to da island mon! Got there right as GrimEs (Meth Fairy Baby) was hitting the stage clad in feathers and denim jumpsuits to boot! After Grimes and her skeleton cronies were done baby yapping at us, we moseyeddd, sampling the musical electricity charged in the island air. Among the highlights were Tycho, M83, Divine Fits and SBTRKT.

~Top SoNg Performance = M83~

The gaps between music were filled with little feathers of fixation. Bubble Nets, Silent Discoing, Parmesan Garlic Fry Munchin, Headband Weavin, and "Om Charging" (Grouping in a circle and matching a collective increasing pitch til it reaches a volume explosion--AN IMPROVERSPARADISE)
                                     



Also,  during one of our many mosey sessions we were stampeded by a PiRatE PaRaDe. Among the scallawag lot, there was a stilted, wobbly pirate woman who was whispin her pistol at  ANY&ERRYBODY. Behind her was her pirate husband with their pirate baby in a peg-legged stroller. Yes, this is her career and yes the only thing that baby is inheriting is scurvy and a crusty eye patch. In the off chance this is your dream profession A MUST HAVE---Anna Pirate Costume Boots (Google Affiliate Ad)

----Also noteworthy, "Pirates" was being broadcasted behind the pirate parade on a jumbotron. Yes folks, twas "the most expensive porn every made" Pirates and it got weird, fast. The only person watching was Flavah Flave who, after performing (if that's what you call his crack-induced rant), retired to a weird tower constructed on the island where he is probably still living.

Missing the feather beauties in my festival troop more than ever as I settle back into midterm mush in Athens. Stay wispy San Fran. I shall come back for you sor sooooon!