Vinyl night at Cactus Café and I told myself three records max — my floor is now a graveyard of everything I own. Come dig through my crates with me?
Vinyl night at Cactus Café and I told myself three records max — my floor is now a graveyard of everything I own. Come dig through my crates with me?
Two festival weekends deep and my body's still filing complaints — coffee's doing all the work while I decide if L7 tonight gets what's left of my voice. Talk me into rallying?
Two weekends of Zilker finally caught up with me, so my feet are getting their apology before the last round — The xx and Sofi Tukker can wait for me a little longer. The water's getting cold though — care to fix that?
Turnstile softened me up and Charli finished the job — I've got festival dust in places I won't mention and my voice quit somewhere during the last chorus. Tell me it was worth it.
Boots on, backpack packed, tank tied up way higher than necessary — Charli's closing Zilker tonight and I'm ready to lose my voice again. Meet me at the rail?
Zilker round two starts tomorrow and I'm doing everything I can tonight to make sure this body survives it. Stretching counts as cardio if you watch long enough — keep me company?
Made it to Moody and Kacey's already got me two drinks deep, screaming every word at the rail. Come find me after — I'll be the loudest one in boots.
Getting cowgirl-ready for Kacey at Moody Center tomorrow and everything keeps coming off faster than it goes on. Come help me decide what stays?
Jack White's at Moody and the closet fight is an hour strong — honestly this tee might be the whole outfit. Are you ready for how loud I'm getting?
Zilker laundry day — everything I own smells like dust and spilled beer and my legs still haven't forgiven me for the weekend. Charli XCX in three days and I'm already deciding which outfit dies this round. Still coming with me?