
(me, hungover on nora’s couch. somehow this is the only picture from last year on my facebook)
I remember pulling into Halifax for Pop Explosion last year. There were five of us crammed into Tristan’s small, turquoise sedan all heading to different houses to crash for the weekend. PopEx is always a blur that someone tells you after was a fun weekend. The electricity in the car high. I wanted to see Fucked Up and Titus Andronicus, but that Friday night we were going to get belligerent for our boy Nick Bike, and Skratch Bastid. We passed a bottle of Fireball around as we dropped people off. We were all half drunk by the time we got out of the car. (Except for Tristan, he was driving.) The weekend that followed was some of the most fun I’ve had, ever.
I missing Nick’s only night in Charlottetown for the foreseeable future (fk you, left coast), and my first Pop Explosions since, what, 2009? Something something growing up sucks something.
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