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On My Time The best and worst two days of my life took place at Bogarts with my band Radioactive Weasel last month. We had practiced daily for near three years, and our group decided to pull together again and enter "The Battle of the Bands." This was the first time we sparingly paid fifty dollars to perform anywhere. All the other competitions we had entered were mail in tapes and then wait for a response. We got out of bed at five in the morning, then raced to our drummer's house. Loaded on uppers, practiced four and a half hours to perfect our original songs, we were to play that night. Pumped and ready to get started we packed the van with our drums and guitars then started our journey to Clifton for our show. As usual, we got there way to early, so we did what any fun seeking under aged musicians would do. We searched the allies and found a half passed out drunk and took him to the local bar, then got a few beers each before the show. We then returned to draw numbers for the order of the bands. I eagerly pushed my way to the front of all the other bands, being the obnoxious prick I am, and drew the first card. Unfortunately I drew the second band on stage out of nine. The best position to be in is about fourth or fifth band because that is when the crowd starts getting into the music. Pissed off I haphazardly wondered back to my group to inform them of my greatest mistake. 2 We loaded the equipment into the worlds slowest elevator, and stumbled our way to the backstage lounge. After I had read graffiti covered walls until my heart was content I noticed much writing by some of my favorite groups like Nine Inch Nails, Marilyn Mansion, Korn, and The Dead Milkmen. Inspired by them I also signed the wall with some chosen words. The time had rolled around for the first band to hit the stage. Excited, we rushed our way into the mosh pit, (in my mind the only place to be).
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