What: A lecherous gang of super mutants.
Where: Latitude 43 Gloucester, Ma
When: 06/29/2012, 9 PM
Why: To imbue the spirit of funky dance into the masses.
How: Seventeen llamas and a lot of elbow grease.
Ah Latitude 43, even though it's been remodeled; it still brings back fond memories of sloppy karaoke nights. It just so happens this roller coaster evening coincided with the local Saint Peter's Fiesta. Early on in the evening, Fiddlehead serenaded us with the likes of not only some new material, but even some good time favorites like "Rocky Raccoon". This got some of the early birds on the dance floor.
As the evening progressed, things began to get a little more twisted. By the time the second set rolled around the Latitude was bumping. People were grinding on the dance floor doing such classic dances as the "Malamute Scoot" and "Hippo Hoedown". At one point in the evening I think hell itself broke loose on the dance floor and sucked a few people in.
Since it was a party, there were creatures of all different sizes, shapes and colors. I think someone even let a goat in. It was wearing a replica Italian flag so it got to stay. Everyone was really nice there except the guy who spilled beer on me. Don't worry, it wasn't a lot - I could tell he drank most of it. I also got a beer for the band and didn't realize it was free, then I lost my change of a twenty. If you find my $15 please send it to:
Patrick Fitzpatrick
42 Misery Lane
Gloucester, MA
01938
If you need to break the five for a stamp I understand. Since that's off my chest, I guess I can talk about the band a little bit more. The ear grinding, side-winding, soul-sucking brain orgy that is Fiddlehead churned out song after song that night. An ocean of hypnotized adrenaline pumped island dwellers also churned, thoroughly enthralled and saturated by the pulse pounding notes. Was that enough adjectives for you?
(AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR)
"You cave dwellers are all the same. Eating your cave moss all day until the sun goes down, then you go out into night only to be photographed by the gawking tourists. This isn't science, its a lobotomy and you're all going to die from self-induced cave moss comas.
We, the lizard people of the underworld shall rise up against you cave dwellers who have enslaved us for so long. Then it is only a matter of time until we conquer the puny humans of the surface world. Long live Emperor Gruhl of the Lizard Kingdom!"
*STATIC*
(Please note that this advertisement does not in any way represent the opinions of Patrick Fitzpatrick, nor the Fiddleheadblorg.)
The highs were high, the lows were low, and if you looked just right something might show. Booties were hitting the floor with thunderous roars. Ya dudes in polo shirts like Jersey Shore. Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore...I managed to get free and find the door.
Come see Fiddlehead. Listen to them. Please?