This week Kyle and I have experimented in extreme laziness. Since work has been such a heavy burden, my energy is shot by the time I return to the abode. My only accomplishments include cooking dinner and getting haircuts. There is an explanation on the way, but right now I need address a couple things before they slip to the margins.
The first is quarter hockey. Mikey brought my negligence in regards to reporting the birth of quarter hockey to my attention. On Saturday night, Stevo, Kyle, Mikey and I had some intense kitchen competition in the quarter hockey arena known as our kitchen table. This game may be the best bullshit game ever invented. Fuck paper football. Kiss my ass bloody knuckles. Blow me basketball. Quarter Hockey is the new kid in town, and yes, it has better style than all of you poseurs.
Another thing I’d like to address is protesting. People have been getting on my shit because I’m not participating in the protests for the RNC. There are a couple reasons I won’t be standing in a cage with a bunch of hippies (sorry for the generalization, but I’m just going with it) or risking mace to my grill for being in the wrong place at the right time. These things don’t interest me. Yes, I’m unified with you against this common enemy (the administration), but I don’t think that means it is necessary for me to demonstrate against their little party occurring next week. If you want a really solid reason for just saying no to protesting, read this article by Rick Perlstein in this weeks Village Voice. Don’t let Bush be another Nixon. Increase the peace.
Let me just say that Ms. Karen Correa is so fucking awesome. Some of you may know her from the Hissyfits, some of you may know her from Demander and some of you may even know her as a steady patron to Bside, but I know her from the make out tunnel. Ok, maybe not from making out in the make out tunnel, but that’s how we met. After a long discussion at Bside regarding the layout of the walkways to the back room and how one is more conducive to making out, my check was cashed. She stole my heart. On Wednesday night she upped that ante by stopping by 186 after band practice with Sivan so she could give me a haircut. Karen has only given a few haircuts in her lifetime, but I’ve had many in mine. I can safely say this is one of the best. I’ve finally got that Paul Banks style (minus the obvious coolness) I’ve always coveted. Thank you Karen. I owe you pancakes.
Other than my haircut, this has been a fairly uneventful week. My days have been spent hanging with the roommate and cooking a lot of dinner. On Tuesday Cami came through with a sweet bottle of white wine to share in a meal I prepared that rocked some serious house. Unfortunately, the Hamburger Helper that was made on Wednesday didn’t really cut the mustard. Tonight’s menu includes tacos with a slight chance of guacamole.
Speaking of tonight, you all should come down to the Mercury Lounge for the Demander, These Bones & RANA show that is kicking off around 9:30pm. Jack D aka Jack Champion aka Napoleon Dolemite told me the opening band is solid as well, so if you can shoot through earlier, make it happen. Check out the flyer in an earlier post for details.
So last night I returned home from work and got good news in the form of a Liz McDonald pop-in. It’s been ages since I’ve seen that girl and though her stay was brief, it was quite welcomed. After an hour of hang time, I rode down to the Bowery Ballroom to report for work. Last night I was selling merch for The Presidents of the United States of America. Yes, that’s right boys and girls, I sold t-shirts and discs for PUSA. It was a bit nostalgic, until they neglected to count out and my tired ass had to stay put for an extra hour.
Anyway, a couple things I would like to address in regards to last nights show. First of all, the Washington Social Club opened up and sounded pretty great. They remind me of my days spent at Less than Jake shows. They are a more indie than LTJ, but their crowd and energy has that feel. Oliva hung out and sold their merch during the latter half of the night so I bothered her with questions about playing on Warped Tour.
Secondly, sitting in the basement listening to PUSA pound through hits like Lump, Little Dune Buggy, Kitty, Naked and Famous and Peaches put me in a bit of a time warp. They sounded great from where I was sitting, and by the crowds reaction, it felt like 1994 all over again. They rocked out, but the set seemed to run forever. The third and final song of their encore was a cover of MC5’s Kick Out the Jams which was a welcomed curtain call.
Finally, I would like to discuss Harlequin which is a Brooklyn via Sydney band whose set I didn’t pay any attention to. Why did I overlook their music? Well, for one, their merch girls showed up and they were two of the hottest girls I’ve ever seen. I may be stretching this a bit because there are beautiful girls everywhere (I even think some of them are my friends), but in the context of last night, they were top of my pops. They were two stunning beauties. I’m talking in a classical sense. Great looking blonde girls with Aussie accents that would make you melt. Do you want to know the best part? After our introductions and some chit chat they went about their business. The business of making out. Yes, this sounds misogynistic, but trust me… I love all ladies no matter what their size, look and most importantly their sexual orientation. The way I look at it, hot girls don’t gravitate towards me. If they do (and they have) I’m a lucky gent. If not, they go with some guy who may not treat them right and who is a jackass in their own right. I’d rather see these ladies with other girls than douche guys.
That’s all I have to say about the subject. Feel free to berate me.
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