Allergic to Radiation: Coachella 2011

I had a LOVELY kick ass, totally awesome-rific, epic, pee-inducing, spasmodically beautiful time at Coachella this year. There are no words and lots of words that could describe that glorious event...unfortunately for ya'll, I've spent the last four hours uploading videos and pictures and now I'm pooped...Pooped like the poop I kept seeing in the Coachella port-a-potties. (Dumping blue smell-good stuff on it didn't mask the fact that there was a lot of dookie down there Team Coachella.)

We had a crazy amount of quotes that made the event memorable including, " ___ the shit out of ___ "

We filled in the blank with lots of goodies including we sat the shit out of that day or we listened the shit out of that song. You get the drift. Groovy one.

Twinkie was coughing from all the smog in LA (you have to have gangsta lungs to make it in this town!) and so I told her it was just all that radiation from Japan--no worries. From that moment on we were allergic to radiation. Only the teenage mutant turtles are immune I'm afraid...well them and the hipsters. Hipsters didn't seem to mind the radiation or the cigarette smoke that polluted our air so bad that I now sound like a dude.

Not a sexy one either. Raspy Jenkins at your service!

Partners in crime

Gogol Bordello was quite the performer I must say

Air Art

The Kills: I drooled a bit watching Alison Mosshart wrap the mic chords around herself. Girl has charisma and then some. Now I see why Kate Moss was driven into jealous rages over her boyfriend being Mosshart's band member. That Alison is hotness on a stick.

We found friends and watched Arcade Fire with him and his buddy. Later we waited as he tried to smuggle beer out of VIP. 30 minutes and out he came with a beer in a water bottle that had been tucked into his sock. Clever chap. Coachella gangster for sure.

This is what Coachella felt like for me. It was a blur of pretty.

We laughed a lot. We jammed a lot. I slept a lot (I'm allergic to extreme heat). We heard great music and THAT my friends makes me one lucky gal...I think you can appreciate and obsess over bands, but you can't truly love the real them until you've seen them Coachella...with thousands of zombie hipster fans around you dancing awkwardly with purpose.


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