(diaryland) November 04, 2002 - 6:28 p.m.

So how we gonna kick it?

Gonna kick it root down is the correct answer.

We played the best gig on Saturday night. It was the funnest, the most sweatiest piece of crazy shit ever. The first band, Rockerfeller, were from Sydney. They had synchronised slumping going on, and much playings of guitarlike instruments behind the ears.

Then Breakfast of Champions were on. We got a good crowd. There was this crazy British dude who came up to us halfway through the set and said we had to headbang more while we played. Since my hair was in a very prim and proper ponytail, I didn't like this idea. But we went off anyway, and fucked shit up and so on and so forth. Afterwards, a guitarist from the first band said that he very much liked my blues guitar stylings. Apart from the fact that I've got as much blues in me as a pale freckled middle-class Australian female can have, which probably isn't much, it was a nice compliment.

Then Fort Mary were on and were a besuited delight as always. They are fun to watch.

And then, Tirany. It was their last gig for a very long time, which was sad. But because of that, they played for a long time, which was happy. They gave out toy instruments which everybody played with disturbing abandon.

(whatever that means)

I got to wield a cheerleading pom pom, which was nice. Everybody sang along and cheered and had a rollicking good time.

I love rollicking.

And Molly was there!

Has the Moon finally found Drunk Ninja?