RockStar Mayhem In Hartford: It Ruled!

I tried to be her friend

What a way to spend a Saturday! Yesterday (July 24), I made the trek to Connecticut’s capital city, Hartford, for some Mayhem with one of my best friends, the Goat, and my pals Clinton and Randy. That picture’s of me, at Mayhem, that Randy shot with his cell; notice the Profanatica shirt and the VIP wrist bracelet. He wasn’t trying to take a picture of me. True story: Standing directly behind this ass — which belonged to a smoking hot blonde dancer of the exotic persuasion — was a 12-year-old boy with his Dad. Needless to say, that boy was in heaven.

The RockStar Energy Mayhem Festival came through town and by the end of the day, hundreds of kids were plastered with mud, hundreds of others were passed out or drunk, and thousands more received third-degree sunburns. But all of them left rocked to their very core.

Even All That Remains’ Phil Labonte was there and told me that the band’s in the middle of mixing their new album, For We Are Many, which is due in stores in October. Rad!

While Rob Zombie and Korn dominated the main stage, the second stage at Mayhem belonged to Hatebreed, who went all out for their hometown crowd. Of course, three seconds into Hatebreed’s set, there were three circle pits (I saw at least one Juggalo take a well-deserved elbow to the throat) within spitting distance of that gorgeous haunch. Jamey Jasta, who was so excited her grew a beard for the occasion, got the audience frothing as the band ripped through “I Will Be Heard,” “To The Threshold,” and “Live For This.”Even Randy Blythe from Lamb of God came out for a tune. By the end of it, I wanted to take a baseball bat to the nearest head and just level the place. That band can incite violence like no other.

3 Inches of Blood were thunderously awesome (as usual), while Shadows Fall tore through their set to the frenzied delight of the New England fans — their fans. Other standouts were Winds of Plague, who had the audience rabid early on for severe metal, and In This Moment, another crowd favorite who had the sweat-soaked mass throwing the horns.

It was good seeing Chris from In This Moment and Brian from Shadows Fall again; thankfully, we had backstage passes so free RockStar water was always within reach. And there were some smoking hot broads back there, too. The crowd was crawling with fotch as well. I saw at least 60 girls I would have cum in. Alas, it was not to be for me in Hartford. But hey — we got to see tons of kids fuck up Hartford’s most popular outdoor venue.

It had rained the night before, leaving the lawn area well-saturated. When Lamb of God took the stage, bombarding the sea of black shirts with “Redneck,” “Now You’ve Got Something to Die For,” and “Walk With Me In Hell,” a bunch of terd burglars decided to take it back to Woodstock ’94, and start sliding around in the sod. That sod soon turned to full-on mud and by the end of LOG’s set, softball-sized hunks of mud and grass were flying through the air. It looked like a food fight and the lawn was straight-up molested. This led Mayhem officials to plead with the mud puppies to “stop throwing fucking sod or we won’t come back next year.”

Let’s face facts: If the Hartford date sold well, and merch sales were good, they’ll be back, fucked lawn or no.

All in all, Mayhem lived up to its name. Its like Ozzfest, only better. If Lyman’s track record is any indication, Mayhem is going to be around for a long time, and its good. Where else can strippers, Juggalos, crazy hot bitches, bearded Jamey Jasta’s, dudes with belt masks, and hardcore metal dudes like myself, the Goat, Randy, and Clinton get together each summer for some good timing it? Unfortunately, there was no time for Hatebreed to throw a post-show party, as the tour picked up and left immediately for Canada. Apparently, on each night on the tour, its one band’s responsibility to host the shindig. For example, God Forbid threw a party after the Njew Jersey stop called “Coons from Hell,” the soundtrack for which was nothing but Pantera and everyone chugged 40 ounces. At least that was the word around the grounds at the Hartford stop. Oh, the stories I heard.

I went, I saw, and now, it’s time for sleep.

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