Ghostemane: The Masquerade: Atlanta, Ga: November 27, 2017

When this shit drops, I want to see blood on the floor!

Yeah, I know my pictures suck. Just not worth it for me to wrestle with the crowd. I was too busy punching myself.

Though, during the moments of being pure punk in my own self-inflicted mash pit, I did manage to catch the crowd below getting their bounce on! While searching the net for my epic stage dive performance,  I did run across this dude’s up close and personal raw footage.  -no dive footage yet-

I did learn from this show. I guess I’m still learning from all the shows that I’ve been heading to the past years of my return to America. The lesson that has always been my motto and its ideology are continually reassured.

    The best way for Brick O’Neal® to enjoy any event is to ‘arrive late, leave early, and be the biggest part of the act in that tiny amount of time’.

When this shit drops, I want to see blood on the floor” – Ghostamane

Which I did! I pulled everything out of my pockets, handed it to my best friend, and made my way down the steps. I pushed, wrestling,  and fake bouncing like a white boy my way through the crowd until someone could hear me screaming  “HELP MY ASS ONSTAGE MOTHERFUCKER!!” and with a fat smile, my request was granted. I found myself quickly on stage bouncing, throwing air fist around Ghostemane and then he stops singing!.

THE CUNT!

Talking about following the pre-plugged routine only talked about when one sells out to a record label. Damn!. What is an old schooler to do! Finally, there was help from the stagehand. A nice strategically placed push off into a crowd of fucktards staring into their smartphones.  My landing was a success due to the quick reactions once the people realized there was someone quicking falling on them.

They were very gentle. 

I’m pissed now. I’m ready to mash now, but I did the responsible thing to do for 2017 and return to my post upstairs for the remainder of the thirty-minute show.

So back to the point. Not to be distracted by random acts of stage diving.

Never never never never never never ever ever never ever show up early for a millennial oriented concert. 

I had no idea that someone I saw surfing around the crowd looking worse than a dirty Fidler managed to crawl up on stage during the lamest Dj set and started to cry. CRY! WTF! To me, it sounded like someone’s young child who’s laying dead, helpless on stage, started crying because it was past their bedtime or something. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. I mean, I believe the crowd responded to it as someone singing.  Jesus, someone please give me your USDA approved painkillers!

Thankful for such a wonderful venue as The Masquerade.

Their multi-stage area host an assortment of local and international acts.

Thank you whoever you are. Don’t give a fuck if you’re the opening band, you rocked! You kicked ass! You fucken yelled with passion, and the best part of it all was.  You didn’t cry! At least you didn’t want to make me cry for the fucking mistake for showing up early!.

Thank you whoever you were playing in Heaven!


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