I feel like I should be starring in my very own 1970s feelgood summertime buddy movie. Not only has the sun now come out, but I have managed to get my greasy mitts on two tickets to see Kiss play live at the LG Arena in Birmingham this coming May. For those not in the know (everyone....anyone?) I freaking love Kiss and would have possibly foregone a limb to see them. As it was, I only had to pay a few digits, thanks to Ticketmaster's massive price gouging policy, but if any 'get to the gig' movies I have seen have taught me anything, it's that you can't put a price on Kiss tickets.
I hope my journey there is more successful than that experienced by Edward Furlong and his friends in Detroit Rock City. I would hate to get beaten up by a small boy's older brother, or have my mum turn up and inexplicably steal my drumsticks.
So, the question is, who shall I take with me. Well, girlfriend has kindly bowed out, acknowledging that she barely knows any of their songs and doesn't give a hoot about the band. Therefore, I get to live out my 1970s teenage dream and go with my Best Chum instead. I'm going to try and convince him that we need to go in full Kiss make-up. Bagsy not Peter Criss! Nobody wants to be Peter Criss. Not even Peter Criss.
Daily Tourettes: Muthflippin Kiss tickets! Shizz.
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