Oh, last Sunday was such a wonderful day! I haven’t laughed that much in a while and I can barely remember a concert I’ve been so excited to go to. And no, I didn’t faint. I guess I was just too focused on not missing anything happening on stage. And on Josh Homme in particular. So all of my nerves and stuff were so tense that they wouldn’t think of doing stupid things like producing a black-out. Just a theory.

I suppose I don’t really need to tell how perfectly awesome great amazing plus every other positive word Them Crooked Vultures were. Although the sound wasn’t how you would expect it, the concert killed me. The other visitors as well. At least it seemed like that.

Aside from the wonder-, wonder-, wonderful concert of the three coolest people on earth – You really should have seen good old John Paul Jones, unbelievable! – I had the perfect company on that day, which made everything better than it was anyway. Won-Won (I’d say we stick to this nickname; I admit: I like it so much. Go Lavender!) and I landed ourselves in so many strange situations I was grinning all way through. From Graz to Munich and back to Graz.
But then, there was one thing that wasn’t funny at all. I am a bit worried concerning the traffic in my future hometown. I mean, either a car tries to hit you or a cyclist does. Nay.