Nu på lördag (11 sep) spelar tributebandet "Green de ja vu" på rockklubben Harry B James i Stockholm. Det utlovas ett "jävla ös med alla GD-hitsen och lite till!"

Jag tycker att alla Green Day fans som har möjlighet och har åldern inne, borde titta förbi. Lär bli det närmaste man kommer en livespelning med Green Day låtar på ett tag.

Mer info:
http://www.cityrock.net/

Det låter ju lite kul, synd bara att jag befinner mig jävligt långt ifrån Sthlm för tillfället.

Ibland är det väldigt tråkigt att vara 16 år och bo i Borås...

Det låter schysst, synd bara att jag e under 18/19

hmm, Synd att jag såg detta försent. Annars hade ju Harrys varit givet i lördags!

Harry B James är ett jättehärligt ställe synd att man inte var där.

Bra drag var det och jag hängde vid scenen hela spelningen. Var dock ganska ensam som Green Day fan. Var kanske därför det var lätt ett vinna A.I.-cdn på värdens lättaste fråga. "Vem skriver Green Days låtar?".

Följande låtar spelades:

When I Come Around
Welcome to Paradise
21 Guns
Know your Enamy
Hitchn' a Ride
We are the Waitin'
Boulevard of Broken Dreams
American Idiot
East Jesus Nowhere
Wake Me up when September Ends
Basket Case
Good Riddance

Bilder finns på följande länk:
http://www.sincityrockclub.se/bilder/ga ... emId=21080

I
tasted
the
liquid,
but
its
flavour
was
so
unpleasant
that
I
set
down
the
vessel
immediately.
Eveena,
however,
took
it
up,
and
drinking
a
part
of
it,
with
an
effort
to
control
the
grimace
of
dislike
it
provoked,
held
it
up
to
me
again,
so
evidently
expecting
and
inviting
me
to
share
it
that
courtesy
permitted
no
further
demur.
A
second
sign
or
look,
when
I
set
it
down
unemptied,
induced
me
to
finish
the
draught.
Regarding
the
matter
as
some
trivial
but
indispensable
ceremonial,
I
took
no
further
notice
of
it;
but,
thankful
for
the
diversion
it
had
given
to
my
thoughts,
continued
my
endeavours
to
soothe
and
encourage
my
fair
companion.
After
a
few
minutes
it
seemed
as
if
she
were
somewhat
suddenly
gaining
courage
and
confidence.
At
the
same
time
I
myself
became
aware
of
a
mental
effect
which
I
promptly
ascribed
to
the
draught.
Nor
was
I
wrong.
It
contained
one
of
those
drugs
which
I
have
mentioned;
so
rarely
used
in
this
house
that
I
had
never
before
seen
or
tasted
any
of
them,
but
given,
as
matter
of
course,
on
any
occasion
that
is
supposed
to
involve
unusual
agitation
or
make
an
exceptional
call
on
nerves
or
spirits.
But
for
the
influence
of
this
cup
I
should
still
have
withheld
the
remark
which,
nevertheless,
I
had
resolved
to
make
as
soon
as
I
could
hope
to
do
so
without
annoying
or
alarming
Eveena.


"Are
you
afraid
of
me?"
I
asked
somewhat
abruptly.
The
question
may
have
startled
her,
but
I
was
more
startled
by
the
answer.


"Of
course,"
she
said
in
a
tone
which
would
have
been
absolutely
matter
of
fact,
except
that
the
doubt
evidently
surprised
her.
"Ought
I
not
to
be
so?
But
what
made
you
ask?
And
what
had
I
done
to
displease
you,
just
before
they
sent
us
the
'courage
cup'?"


"I
did
not
mean
to
show
anything
like
displeasure,"
I
replied.
"But
I
was
thinking
then,
and
I
may
tell
you
now,
that
you
remind
me
not
of
the
women
of
my
own
Earth,
but
of
petted
children
suddenly
transferred
to
a
harsh
school.
You
speak
and
look
like
such
a
child,
as
if
you
expected
each
moment
at
least
to
be
severely
scolded,
if
not
beaten,
without
knowing
your
fault."


"Not
yet,"
she
murmured,
with
a
smile
which
seemed
to
me
more
painful
than
tears
would
have
been.
"But
please
don't
speak
as
if
I
should
fear
anything
so
much
as
being
scolded
by
you.
We
have
a
saying
that
'the
hand
may
bruise
the
skin,
the
tongue
can
break
the
heart.'"


"True
enough,"
I
said;
"only
on
Earth
it
is
mostly
woman's
tongue
that
breaks
the
heart,
and
men
must
not
in
return
bruise
the
skin."


"Why
not?"
she
asked.
"You
said
to
my
mother
the
other
day
that
Arga
(the
fretful
child
of
Esmo's
adoption)
deserved
to
be
beaten."


"Women
are
supposed,"
I
answered,
"to
be
amenable
to
milder
influences;
and
a
man
must
be
drunk
or
utterly
brutal
before
he
could
deal
harshly
with
a
creature
so
gentle
and
so
fragile
as
yourself."

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

<P>as trickling streams, coming from the source, ran away end, extraordinary things through the middle of the jungle, Cease endless years, through the seasons, with its own temperature, or cold or warm , flowing in a succession of ordinary days, days off in the stream of life, or as superficial and insignificant; or, if self-floating duckweed, no foot care. The flow of mood, or clear or cloudy, or fun, or blocking; flowing hearts sticky mess or dirt, blinded confused or Nianhua with incense, a bright People to people to stay, things start things end, things changed, repeated day in the flat, dull in repetition. Or numbness in the flat depression, or in plain fame or fortune, or to chew out the ordinary youth. In plain windless day, or a desire to come hope Fuli exist, the presence there is hope, there is hope bright.When the little pots grow uneven watermelon seedlings, we could be so strange. It is not the original swallow watermelon seeds will grow watermelon? Admittedly, this is only the child's curiosity, all puzzled have followed the footsteps of time to find the right answers.Youth is wonderful, squandered youth is a crime. When once began after ninety young married, when Qingdouchukai 2003 also at the forefront of the times, as we know, has never stopped the pace of youth.We think of myself as a tree. Branches stretching toward the sky, roots headlong into the depths of the earth. High mountains of free competition, no intention to cover someone else's glory. Why was waving an ax, I am with you no injustice Wu Chou! Even the earth without me, countless new branches still upright. The hardest part is tolerant world, the world's most sad thing is jealousy. Rivers and oceans without resentment, spring why curse falls, you have your home, I have my way.Old time, the pace of youth still slowly forward, all are brilliant new record instead. To know the melody of youth, not noble than others, true nobility is in being superior to your previous self.Coming and going, things succeed defeat, was new was old, the years in replacement of the scene, changing colors. Human life time, to an indelible mark, shock Devil May Cry God; or if I aspire to bloom downtown, attracted unsolicited breeze, butterflies fluttering ...... windless day, eager to sway cheerful, flying vast longing, solitude became a tiresome when disaster, plain ordinary, but also people Jiangan tired worried. In windless day, time still not lift like waves, mood swings to dust. At this time, inevitably desire a wind blown dust, dirt, redemption buried heart. A wind like thunder or flash explosion, shake heaven and earth; or as gentle breeze, carrying with fragrant flowers ......However, windless day, still reminding us of scenes years; confined water pond in time, that is losing momentum </P>