Recently I had an awesome opportunity to be a judge on a battle of the bands in a small Italian village which consists of a hill, church, and a graveyard. However, the crowd wasn't DEAD at all (huehuehue). If you want to see what was poppin', keep scrolling. LET'S GO!

This was three of us judges. As you can see, we are all wearing thick-framed glasses, as every art critic ever did and will do. Also, if you want to make your carrier go worldwide, you need to learn how to say „unstable intonation“, „lack of compactness“ and „general insecurity“ in every language ever while you bite a pen with an upset expression on your face – and baby, you'll be a superstar. And yes, I did draw the arrows in a little program I like to call MS Paint, thankyouverymuch.

This is me on the stage being introduced to the audience. The host was the most German Italian person I ever saw in my short life – he even prepared our cheesy „funny“ conversation in advance. Let me give you an inside in the showbiz – yes, our comedic chemistry was nothing more than a well-practiced speech. The fakeness of Hollywood is killing me.

Here's me praying to the sweet Lord Jesus to give me the strength to not to get drunk while judging. My colleague took his glasses of so he could crack up a joke. Because once he puts them back, shit is going down.

Here is the band who won and they were fricking awesome. Take that, MOTHER – and you thought a degree in humanities won't bring me any good.

P. S. Thank you for buying me the glasses, mom.

Yours truly,

Magda