I should stop using so many parentheses

Yesterday Joe and I bought four tickets for the Hard Working Class Heroes music festival, assuming that Derrick and Adam would pay us back for two of them so they could go see a zillion up-and-coming bands with us. We figured Derrick's love for music and Adam's nice-guy nature would practically guarantee their paying us back. Unfortunately, Adam was all sad about Man U's crushing defeat by Liverpool (GO LIVERPOOL! GO ROBBIE KEANE! YEAH! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!), and Derrick was (I actually don't know about Derrick, since Joe and I agreed to get Derrick and Adam to pay us back, respectively). Eventually they gave in and we hitched the Luas to St. Stephen's Green and off to Temple Bar.
You've probably heard of Temple Bar, seeing how it's pretty much the most obnoxiously touristy place in Dublin. A tour bus brochure inside a tour bus that lost control and crashed through a window, ending up inside the Guinness Storehouse tour is less touristy than Temple Bar. I had no intention of ever going there, since all of the three Irish people I've spoken to during my stay here said it was a horrendous rip-off. Still, fate brought me there, via the IES scavenger hunt the day before yesterday (which I won, naturally). I can see why tourists like it. Temple Bar is gorgeous. It's both artsy (yet safe) and quaint, looking like what you'd get if you took Cambridge Square and Dublinized it. However, whatever merit the architecture and street performers lend it is nullified by the QUAINTE IRISHE TAVERNES that subsist entirely on washed-up retirees and hen parties (Irish bachelorette parties, where the average age is around 40) who guzzle Guinness (5 euros) after seeking reassurance from the bartender that no, it will not dissolve their Fixadent. Our show was going to be there, though, so we made the trip down to Temple Bar.
The festival consisted of six venues, each hosting a different band for about half an hour. This lasted from half 7 until midnight. That's a lot of bands, and we made our bravest effort to see as many as possible. Funny enough, by the end of the whole thing it was Derrick and Adam who were most impressed with the festival. I had a great time, but the loss of 20 euro made me so paranoid about my finances that I didn't even drink more than a pint (hi Mom!).
Such a grandiose Saturday left us without any plans for Sunday, though, and for some insane reason I found myself waking up at 9. I guess I'll try reaching Lee again before she goes off to Cork, forcing me to spend money visiting.
By the way, I didn't take pictures because I didn't bring my camera because I didn't want my camera to be stolen by some gypsie while I was distracted by a street performer. I hope this doesn't become a trend.