Friday, July 9, 2010

Final Fantasy 12 - Dawn Of Souls - Vba

Heineken Jammin Festival 2010, 3-4 July. (Part Two)



"VuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuu"

We are awakened at dawn as the second day. The brain connects to the hard work and for a second think it's a vuvuzela - what the hell am I doing in South Africa? - But then I realized that the deafening noise was nothing more than a plane, a short distance from our tent. Will I make it sound-proofed, dammit. There is hardly
resumes from a very uncomfortable night's sleep, we take a quick grooming, you swallow two or three drops for breakfast and so on the road again, this time with cars, to the Parco San Giuliano. The usual panic Lukish means that you end up with the park in a parking point furthest from the park, just about 2 km from the entrance, but apparently I had not reckoned with extrasensory abilities of good Found: Parking in fact chosen has to provide the highest quality asphalt paving, advantage to the end of the day would prove be conclusive in regard to other locations "muddy.
therefore we place the machine out and we are moving at a good pace toward the entrance before opening the gates, hoping not to have too much crowd in front and managed to hook up the wristbands to enter the pool all day in comfort. For those in doubt, do not intend to tank with a useful tool for personal hygiene, but an enclosed area in front of the stage where you can come and go as they please, having always the front-row seat guaranteed.
therefore arrive at the gates and we get dell'HJF patiently in line (which seems excessive), chatting amiably with the boys Rovinj, we enter and we head towards the Main Stage diligently to try to get a pair of those damn pass, and he is here we face the real tail nearly two hours in front of the stage under the hot sun, herded like animals, the bouncers say there are more bracelets, but no one believes a word they say because the tank is half empty, so we are there as a lizard in the sun, the only difference being that the lizards like while we're literally in the browning a warm worse than the previous day. At one point, pity, the bouncer threw some water bottles to the crowd impatient to soothe the thirst; not enough for me and I ask of watermelon but after that the first launch hits a guy causing a serious head injury the launch of the watermelons is interrupted.
In any case, the situation will not budge so after a while, 'and I Lukish Scazzi us to stand in line for wristbands and find a niche where you get fairly close to the stage and wait the start of the concert, waiting for the arrival of Grana and Sandro.
Oh yes, and Grana Sandro! I'd almost forgotten! The two start at Cremona
only on Sunday, as mentioned in the previous post. So willing, choose the path to reach the most inaccessible Mestre: public transport. Let me give you a summary of what I was told by them

- Starting at an unknown time from Cremona by train direct to Brescia
- Change and take the regional train to Venice;
- arrive almost on time at the station of Mestre;
- almost two hours waiting for a shuttle that will take them to Parco San Giuliano;
- Once the shuttles are not even attacked the coach in the Far West and in two seconds to fill. Panic, the two sling on the first finding, not knowing where to take them;
- Grain and Sandro arrives in Venice;
- Grana is photographed next to an unspecified church in Venice:
- The two take a taxi and finally arrive all'HJF dawn del'una.

finally got the two pieces missing, the 4 young people get together and bold start to enjoy the festival.
It takes a few pictures of ritual and two steps here and there, and I and we are stopped by two strapon Lukish clearly enamored of us who want to be immortalized with two young male specimens of Cremona. We discover later that it was for an awareness campaign against drug fakers ...! Grit in the meantime becomes a 35 year-old mason in Catanzaro the lunch break, sipping ice cream / sorbet coffee.
Back in our niche awaiting the start of the concert, and when the first group (of which not even remember the name) starts playing, click the Vezzo Show. I feel weak all of a sudden, I do not have Lukish time to say "My head is spinning" that-boom! - End up dead weight on the floor, unconscious! Lukish grabs my head and continued to shout "Vezz! Vezz! Vezz "with a frequency of 7" Vezz "per second. I just replied to me, I go out with a peaceful "Eh?", As if to say "What the fuck you scream ?!?". I come away from the Red Cross, highly efficient, reinstated in minerals with a nice infusion of saline and forth, back on track. Meanwhile, however, leave the boys a bit 'shaken and frightened by the incident, but above all I inadvertently pass the prophecy of the shaman-Owl bus: "3e10 Sverrai at the Sunday afternoon. " The damn bastard hit it the first of his prophecies evil, well, better than I who will faint with pain while giving birth to the Black Eyed Peas.
However, a little 'shaky but recovered back by the boys while they're playing the Bastard Sons Of Dionysus , Bravin and able to leave a good impression despite the strong prejudices I had about them. At this point it seems clear that the coup has left alone in the aftermath of my ability to understand and will be made and as I test to assess the damage to the brain comes Fave it joins the group. After the Bastards, is the turn of Rise Against: super show, loads and explosives as a few (Billy Talent to join them for this feature), drag the people for the duration of the concert by forgetting all the heat oppressive. After them it's up to Editors ; smaronamento a significant part of the British group showing that while able to play and make good music, have a big drawback to present pieces that are too similar to each other, showing off one consequence of a long litany hours. Meanwhile we can also reach the house, and then form that beautiful bunch of people there and would soon tasted the thrill of taking 200mm of water on the head for a good Oretta. They end
Editors and while 30 Seconds To Mars is preparing the exhibition, we are aware of an ominous cloud approaching rapidly, as if loaded dell'HJF head down towards the stage. House tries to warn - "Where's Editors sound does it always rain" - but obviously it is too early to worry, though over the live of 30 seconds, the cloud was getting closer and shades gradually assume more terrifying: first grigino a "water spray and you will freshen up a little '"; then a gray more intense, such as "beaks a bit' of water tonight, boy" and finally a black model "Death Star" aka "Why, you did not bring with you Noah's Ark? ". On the exhibition of the group just to say, honestly away from genres that I appreciate, however, are good at trying to keep spirits up an increasingly depressed and aware of the impending downpour. We also find a nice curtain with 3 or 4 people to climb up to the casino during a song, among which there is Tre Cool (will be the only member of Green Day since that night). While
runs the last piece of the 30 Seconds Lukish and took an incredible resemblance to a Big Babol because of tanning, things are looking bad. The strong wind gusts whip with the lights on stage and not a little dance ready-made tools of Green Day are covered with beautiful best. The first drops, frost, begin to fall but it is bearable and we are close to the stage, we will not give up the position. Then the storm is starting to seriously and there are cocks. The shaman also guesses the second prophecy.
Take the general stampede, and in the middle of the casino, flying under the water, we separate into two groups (I, House and Sandro on the one hand, Lukish, beans and other grain). The three of us, after several zigzag here and there in search of a shelter, find shelter under a tarpaulin to cover one side stand, which in turn must take up in turn to be there under. During the race I've seen of all: people under the truck, under tables, under the bins of Rudo. While we are "protected" (the quotes, given the amount of water, are a must), I witness scenes even better, people like that slips under umbrellas stuck closed and is still standing there. The most daring attempt to reach the exit of the park (remember, one km away from the central area of \u200b\u200bthe festival) and the people here indulges itself. Some runs madly trying to dodge a wall of water falling from the sky, those who put forward by supporting an umbrella type giant tortoise Roman (have been at least thirty below!), Who tries lighter versions of the tortoise supported by tables with 6-8 people and models even more litigation, with 3 people that if traveling with a bench above your head. I have not seen Green Day, but some memorable scenes have eased the incazzatura.
The rest of the story is quite something. We reach the car soaked, while outside the Civil Protection distributes hot drinks and blankets (it comes to drops in temperature of 10-12 degrees within two hours), and now we go back home a bit 'sad.
That concludes the second day, and the close quote Lukish to label the most of this bloody Sunday: "Perhaps the strangest days of my life."

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Menards Counter Tops Des Moines

Heineken Jammin Festival 2010, 3-4 July. (Part I)



I always like to open my post with a word or phrase that immediately focuses the reader on the subject. This year, to define the Heineken Jammin Festival, certainly the most appropriate term is "test", a race of survival for all four fearless young men who long ago decided to take this adventure. Therefore a challenge for me and Lukish, we have made an intense two days at Parco San Giuliano di Mestre, wheat and Sandro, which, although tested only on Sundays, they had to contend with the Italian public transport more efficient.
But let's order and unhurried above. Get comfortable that things will have happened in these two days, and as well Lukish said, is a story worth being told and heard. E 'right to inform you that I will take some freedom to dress with a hint of irony the story and entertain those who read better. Happy reading then!
So, it starts at 7 am on Saturday, July 3, of course, by then an already oppressive heat in the throat choking the breath to the people but compared to what we had to put up then you could compare that temperature to a balmy spring day . And ready way, the point littered with tents, sleeping bags, mattresses, but most changes gallons of beverages: the last thing I HJF Lukish and we have learned.
highway trip quiet, but for the variable pulotti before we pass on the right askance, then they motioned me to pull over and think to inspect the machine for good we were not even drug dealers. Control documents for both, and for me that I was the passenger, if I were Italian Romanian instead was a problem? Well here we close the controversy.
arrive on time at the campsite Forte Bazzera and set up the tent while we can admire the splendid panorama of planes arranged in a row to that other 200 meters from us. We leave the campsite to the park trust, or rather, the illusion that those planes will not be a problem. We are a few kilometers
dall'HJF we are taking a bus that leads us to target ... we had never done! Why is there, in my view, that we are drawn to him. The bad luck I say. A board of public transport in fact we welcome a man of about sixty, at first sight very pleasant and nice, but that turns out to be a crazy owl, stuff that not even the RAI commentators would be able to emulate a similar amount of evil eye. After asking us if we were going to the Festival begins with a tirade about the fact that the area is predisposed to bad weather, the tornado three years ago announced it was something simple (all articles about this show this thing) and that with the heat expected for the weekend, the probability of another tornado and / or time was very high. While doing the tirade suggests implicitly that we poor bastards we're going all'HJF we deserve the bad weather. Closes announcing I fainted at 3e10 Sunday afternoon and talking to another guy who would give birth in pain on the third day, during the performance of Black Eyed Peas. The squeeze of testicles are wasted for soothe gufata.
leave the shaman of trouble with its curses and finally enter the Parco San Giuliano. The atmosphere of the festival is the same as two years ago, friendly and jovial. Stand with music, games, various entertainment, the basketball court, soccer and volleyball, even a fucking decent tree to shelter a bit 'from the sun, the usual HJF, in fact.
The first day I was running smoothly, including a walk here and there, a nap and a lot of water ingested to combat the African heat. He arrived in less than no time now to hear the bands, I would say the real reason why it is all'HJF.
starts on Cards , a group that won the 2010 contest, and inaugurate the festival at large: energetic and not at all intimidated by the public already large enough, boasting a great performance and deserved applause from the several that are bestowed . Sung in Italian with beautiful lyrics and catchy, and with a remarkable juxtaposition of the rough voice of the singer and the female voice (the drummer), all mixed a grunge influence. Then they go on stage to Escape Plan De ; for them a very good performance, and heavily loaded with songs that push. Rounding out the trio of the Italian groups La Fame Di Camilla , except perhaps a bit 'but then quietly gone out to the large, mainly thanks to the wonderful voice of the singer. I recommend you look for something on the internet on all three bands because they deserve.
Then comes the moment of the pieces 90. Before the Stereophonics, really good live and with several catchy songs in the repertoire, or already heard a lot around ( Have A Nice Day and A Thousand Trees at all). Then comes the turn of Cranberries, they too deserve to be heard, even if far from the genres that we like, and their only flaw is the lack of personalities in the group and as rightly pointed out Luke is represented almost only by the singer Dolores O'Riordan. When they finish the Cranberries
we move away to catch his breath a little 'eating a sandwich and go to a quieter area where you enjoy the Main Event. Meanwhile the mosquitoes besiege us and the specter of fainting gufato by the shaman of the bus hanging over subscribed so that I feel obliged to beg dell'Autan a 35 year old MILF, sfegatatamente Inter to the point that before granting the anti-mosquito wants I ascertain that're a team acceptable. And 'obviously a crazy, with a beautiful body, however, and especially with the Autan. "Sampdoria", I reply, and she begins to jump to the enthusiastic shouts of "Pazziniiiiii" and gives me the much coveted spray. Next to her I discovered the presence of a boy of Bergamo, this Giancarlo, who also got there before me to beg the Autan and he too passed with flying colors because doriano like me. Incredible cases of life! Then this guy here turns out to be really nice, we chat a while 'before and during the concert, and finally, leaving his mobile number, he invited me to join the club Sampdoria to go to Bergamo to do some traveling with them. Meanwhile, the MILF jumps here and there showing off a breast redone obvious and distracting every male over 50 meters from the vision of the concert. I still do not know if she was happy for the concert or for the triple Inter ... mah!
But spend a few words for the main dish of the day, the Aerosmith. The first thing that comes to mind is: mamma mia! Incredible stage presence of these sixty eternally young, perfect example of timeless rock star. They keep the show as if they had 30 years less and the wonderful voice of Steve Tyler does compete with the virtuosity of Joe Perry on guitar and Joey Kramer on drums. The songs run as if they were coming from records recorded in the studio and, needless to say, we listen to two hours of classic rock carved in the history of the genre. In my opinion, beautiful Jaded , and Cry I Do not Want to Miss A Thing , not to mention Pink and Rag Doll. Aerosmith
finish well and finish the first day. We head a bit 'tried to exit but overall in decent condition, if not for a 1cm layer of sweat and dirt from various peel just arrived at the campsite. Outside the park shuttles waiting to take us each in his own way, of course, without a fucking billboard or other relevant information to those who must take them, fucking these shuttles. I ask a policeman what that leads to Fort Bazzera and he, very kind, merely to correct the pronunciation but not the coach tells me right: you, my dear alert, whoever you are, you're a big jerk. I tell you with my heart in hand (and if I could with a stick in your ass).
In one way or another, we arrive at the campsite, we wash away the rudo off, we do bleed a little 'by mosquitoes and, in a tent, tenderly close microscopic Lukish and I are preparing for a romantic night of camping.
And so was the end of the first day.