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From Tokyo, Japan, It's SWEAT-TASTIC

Time for the evening's final act.

I stood in line for half an hour, waiting to get back into The Seahorse in time to see Zoobombs' Friday night set. I am a polite person by nature and so I waited quietly in the lineup. The club was filled to capacity and the liquor inspector was making the rounds so not even my swanky VIP (blush) pass could help me out. However, a certain BOY from a certain BAND in Halifax (named after a certain STREET in the plural form) told me his secret to getting past troublesome HPX lineups: Just be really drunk and really cocky. And I watched him in awe as he finished up his smoke outside and then slithered past all the losers (present company included) in the lineup. Don't worry, Heath, your secret is safe with me.

It was worth the wait just to see the crowd going bananas for Zoobombs' bombastic spazzfest. Sweat was flying, Don Matsuo was falling all over the stage, and swear words were pushed to the limit in a very special audience participation segment.

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