Oasis, Baby! Plus A Really Short Story Concerning A Monkey [a.k.a My 100th Post]

My life is complete. I've finally gone for an Oasis concert. Right now I feel like I could go a lifetime without sex and potato chips, just going on with the high of being at a Liam Gallagher-led gig.

See, I grew up on Oasis. I was madferit since Supersonic blew my 11-year-old brains into Britpop Shangri-la. I was madferit since Liam Gallagher became a profanity-spewing charismatic god. I sound gay. But I hero-worshipped this guy, man. He was my idol. And at 11, it was far from homosexual.

I was madderferit when my cousin let me hear Wonderwall, and I thought, man this is the biggest rock band in the world. And the Spice Girls was only proof that the world was fucking itself up. Oasis was supposed to top the charts. In every corner of the world. Not only in the UK, but from Wisconsin all the way to Kathmandu.

So when I could finally catch them, I was having an euphoria so intense it came out in my sweat. I was sweating euphoria. It coursed through my veins. My heart pumped it through my being.

They held the concert at the Indoor Stadium. Everything seemed beautiful that day...

The set was electric magic.


The overhead lights shone down like Hollywood's depiction of light from heaven, ethereal and benign.

Okay truthfully, not really, but they were cool nonetheless.

The equipment box, though shaky in this photo, was, there and then, a work of art.


Even the street outside the indoor stadium seemed well, bright.

As you can tell, I bullshit more than your average bovine.

I hit the Oasis concert alone. I didn't mind being alone at an Oasis concert. It was the band I grew up on. I felt extremely comfortable catching them live alone. Of course, eventually, I found my brother Syahmi there.



While chillin' outside the stadium, I came across this monkey that escaped from the zoo. Took pictures with it, even.



Later, for reasons I cannot fathom, it appeared to have constipation...



So, just to get its mind off its predicament, I gave it a mind-numbing, IQ-blowing question. "Hey, munky. If 2 + 1 = 3, what's 1 + 2?"

The monkey gave it due consideration.



(10 minutes later...)



(20 minutes later...)



(30 minutes later...)



"I don't know," it finally said. "Erm... 4.72?"

By then of course, it was time to get in. And I was in heaven. Finally, after a ten year wait, I get to catch Oasis. Live. My adoloscent life is finally fast approaching completion.

Oh and that little story about the monkey? It's not true. I was just bored. That's really my homie Cheryl who I always make fun of, but who I undoubtedly love.