Come to a music festival, they said. Its a start-up full of promising talent, they said. It'll be fun, they said.
Hah.
The music is crap. Worse than crap. It's an apex of crap, corporate rock played by a bunch of meaningless twats and the lead singer of the 'Headline' act was a short ego-d fucker whose appearance crescended into him chucking up the bottle of whisky he'd downed along with the knickers of two blond groupies who won't see 45 again.
Thank fuck for planes going to NYC - a land of booze, clubs and where people get the shit beat out of them if they try to be friendly in public.
So long Minnesota. Canada can have you for all I care.