This past weekend was Lollapalooza music festival in Chicago and, like years past, it was hot, sticky, it rained and naturally there were some hookups happening all around you.
I even told a friend that I was going to search Craigslist because I just knew it would be entertaining. I wasn’t wrong.
The ad below — “you are my everything, lolla dude” — is the post that fully encompasses a festival tryst. I would really like to meet the lady behind it because her writing style is absolutely hilarious.
We danced.Oh, how we danced. We will play EDM at our wedding and as the soundtrack for the rest of our sad, garbage lives.I was the etherial pixie dream girl in the flower crown and the tank with hints of vomit on it. You caught my bleary, tripping gaze and I knew it was love. Either that or I had to puke again.
You: statuesque musclebound frat bro with a je ne sais quoi that communicated college was the best years of your life and now you’re struggling and drowning in a world unimpressed by your manly ability to shotgun cheap beers.
If this isn’t love, I don’t want to know what is.
We tussled in the portapotty in a tango that can only be described as momentous. Or sloppy.
I long for your brutish touch and the way you tenderly called me… “dude…”
I’m not sure if this post will stay up long, but for those who would like to respond to it, here is the link.
For a runner up, here is another missed connection from the weekend in Chicago. While this one — “You Farted at the Jewel Osco” — isn’t clear if either party was attending the festival, it was still pretty hilarious.
You were the tall dirty blond with the near perfect body that farted in the bread section last night.I was the tall girl next to you that looked over and asked, “was that you?”.You quickly replied no it was’nt me. You almost seemed insulted that I would ask. As the stink grew you continued to denied your flatulence, but it was evident.I tried to get rid of the stench by waving two loaves of bread. You proceeded to storm off in a angry manner. You are handsome and even if you are a liar and fart like a Clydesdale I’d love to meet up with you sometime.