making friends in bar bathrooms...

Okay…so when I first got to the bar I had to pee…so I went downstairs to the bathroom and there were these two drunk women down there. Big fake boobs and frosted/high-lighted hair…anyways they were super drunk. They explain to me that the reason there is water all over the floor is because drunk #2 fixed the toilets so they’d flush…but that caused the water to come thru the pipes somehow…but at least the toilets weren’t all back-up. I said, “lucky for all of us that there is a large open drain in the floor because we may be squattin’ over it by the end of the night if there continue to be plumbing problems”…they both laughed in a staggering drunk kind of laughing way. Drunk #2 leaves to probably get another drink. Drunk #1 is starring at her self all blurry eyed in the mirror applying more eye-liner. She sees me standing next to her, waiting for her to get her purse out of the sink so I can wash my hands…and she notices the blue bird tattoo on my chest…”oooh my gaaaawd! That’s fuckin’ gorgeous!” she slurs. She shifts her gaze from the mirror reflection of the bluebird to face the actual bluebird, in the flesh. She reaches her hand adorned with chipped artificial nails and actually PETS my tattoo...

Poor Man's Theatre: Nightmare on Pine Street

Sunday evening on the #10 to Capitol Hill I was reminded of a particularly traumatic reoccurring nightmare from my childhood in which a monkey eats his own fingers when a hairy homeless man boarded the bus with bags braceletting his wrists and his eight fingers and two thumbs were nothing more than fat nail-less nubs as long as the first knuckle. This man didn't make sounds or moves like a monkey...instead he hobbled to his seat and then said "beep! beep!" just like a cartoon roadrunner.

Fuckin' Rockstar XIII

Friday Night at Merchant's Cafe in Pioneer Square:
LEEEEEEEEEEEET'S GET REEEEEEEEADY TO RUUUUUUUMBLE!

KICKASS QUINCUNX Vs. In Lunar Blue
...BATTLE OF THE BANDS!!!!

It was a (yawn) clean fight...the boys of Quincunx made me promise not to heckle or throw any glassware at the opponent...I fucking swear one of these days I'm gonna bust a bottle in someone's head!

Quincunx came like unicorn cum
in rainbows across my chest
as I stood like a fucking superhero
in my own homemade band shirt

The crowd was magnificent while Quincunx played a ferociously tight set. Bookending with my two personal favorites: Ghetto. Eh? and Bologna Joanie...Kickass Ass-kicking Matt Bird was a fucking supernova showered in a cascade of lights and screams from a bevy of near frenzied fans. The sound from his hypnotic blue bass was like a siren song lulling us into trance-like adoration...his sway dictating our collective motion.

...and then In Lunar Blue was up...but it doesn't really matter.
...QUINCUNX fucking kicked ass.

Fuckin' Rockstar XII

Ok...so Quincunx played a gig at Pioneer Square's CENTRAL SALOON last night...the evening started off wild since Thursdays are BIKER NIGHT at the Central: Arrive on 2 Wheels = No Cover...this added about 5 people to the usual mix. Five people in long hair and full biker leathers, I might add. I kept hoping someone would bust a bottle into someone's head...but they were all pretty tame...like a gang of fluffy kittens in leather chaps. cute.

OKAY...first band up was Element 57.
My #1 Music Pet Peeve is: sax players with receding hairlines wearing brass button marching band jackets (open), baggy jeans, and fucking wrap around shades. This sax dude was a total douche...I'd normally say he was a dick but have since been corrected and I have to agree he falls more appropriately into the douche category. Actually his fucking sax player shimmy he was shimmy-ing throws him back into the dick category...so let's say this guy was like 2/3 douche and 1/3 dick. He was like a dick douche.
My #2 Music Pet Peeve is: Bands (with saxophone) doing rock covers...badly. Element 57 totally fucking butchered my fond memories of the Police Synchronicity Tour in 1984 with their shitty version of Message in a Bottle. Fuckin' bunch of dicks.
...mid-way thru the first band's set I switched to doubles. I blame the sax. Fuckin' dick douche.

OKAY...finally Quincunx takes the stage. Doug bounces out from stage-left to stage-center after the guys start playin' looking like a cross between Zorro, Steven Seagal, and Andre Agassi... dude is fucking hilarious but once again paints a portrait for my future nightmares. (see "fuckin' rockstar IX" for past nightmare inspiring Doug get-ups). Ass-Kickin' Kickass bassist Matt Bird could stand on the stage and tune his bass for like 4 hours and still leave me stunned...so even though this wasn't the best Quincunx set it was still well worth the $5.00 door and the "too much booze and the get up too early the next fuckin' day" way that I feel right now. The over-all set was polished but strained...it just didn't pack the usual cunt-punch power that I'm used to.

P.S. I can't talk about the evening without mention of the super hot bargirls bouncing around taking orders in low-cut tight tees...they were very attentive and cute and funny and did I mention they were wearing low-cut tees? Greyhounds served by busty barmaids are especially delicious.

finding the perfect job...

okay...so I've been thinking a lot lately about what I wanna be when I grow up.
So far...I've narrowed it down to this:

I'd like to wear a mascot costume like a badger or a beaver or a bear or something like that.
I'd like to NOT have to do acrobatics...and in fact would prefer to be on wheels, if possible. Like a super deluxe wheelchair or a Rascal. I think a real handicapped person would probably feel exploited if he/she had to wear a goofy costume...so it's not like I'd be taking the job away from someone that'd already have it...I could promote handy-special awareness or something like that.

OR...

I'd like to be the person that comes up with wacky names for soup.
Like: "noodle-y noodle chicken chunk"

EASTER...2007

Once when I was a kid the Easter Bunny left me a basket of fruit and a note (signed by the Easter Bunny, himself) that said I needed to go on a diet. That pretty much sucked.

This year I had the BEST EASTER EVER!...I spent the entire day Easter Sunday stewin' in my own stink watchin' cartoons and porn...drinkin' screwdrivers and eatin' peanut butter & honey sandwiches.

FUCK YOU and YOUR FRUIT BASKET, EASTER BUNNY!