I went to Warped Tour on Sunday.

It was the best fucking day of my life.

I finally watched Thursday's show.

I went backstage.

I went inside tour buses.

I met amazing people.

And if you ever meet Steve from Evaline, tie him down, put him in a box and send him to me, pretty please.

I miss so much reading comic books. It's not like I don't do it often - I do, but what I'm saying is that I miss staying up late at night just because I wouldn't allow my eyes to slip shut until Jesse Custer used the word of God or John Constantine joked around with a demon or two. It doesn't matter how much I love them, it wears me out to read the same stories over and over again, when there's no way in hell I'm finding the comics I haven't read yet.
I don't know if I'm looking in the wrong places or whatever. So if you know any decent comic bookstores in Montreal, please, let me know.

By the way, there is no way in hell I'm not using her as inspiration for a photoset someday.

Death is love.

Brazil is out.

I still can't believe that we lost the match on Saturday. I mean, it's been 14 fucking years since the last time we beat France, and the episode of 98 doesn't make it any better.
I went to this bar to watch the game with my roomates and ugh, I was the ONLY one there rooting for Brazil. I'd look around too see only French soccer outfits and blue, white and red flags hanging from everywhere. They'd hoot like no tomorrow every fucking time Brazil'd be on the screen, and that pissed me off. It's a matter of respect, you know? Between people, between cultures, between nations.

Anyways, I was feeling awful. It felt like they'd kick me out by any moment and I wasn't getting to stand the little jokes and stuff. So I stayed there for the first half of the match then sneaked out during the break. There is this brazilian bar down the street and I didn't have to think twice before going there. Guess what? I didn't hear anybody hooting at France. Not even once. You see? It's a matter of respect, I'm telling you.

And, well, it felt just like home.

Despite Brazil lost the game, everybody went to the street and started singing and dancing brazilian music as if Brazil had actually won. After 15 minutes or so, French people began to join us and, well, everything ended up in samba.

Yay! So yeah, I'm finally up in here. "Patience" has been the word of the last few months when talking about becoming an SG.
There is no need to say that my set is not up yet - nor has it been queued. But I'm in the line and I hope my turn comes soon. Don't you?

Xoxo.