31 August 2002---9:34p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: They Might Be Giants "No"
I am having a superficial dilemma concerning the depths to which I go to convey my "evil" to the public. I have recently learned that several people out in the void have eyes that see the text on this page as pink. PINK. Maybe I am just being a fool but PINK does not seem like a very evil color unless you are a pink ninja that wears a skirt and kicks ass. Then pink seems just evil enough in a suttle kind of way. Just for those experiencing visual difficulties, the text on this page, as I, as well as others possessing a certain degree of evil, see it, is RED...the color of spilt blood on the hot pavement. I like red. And I like blood, skulls, and poison. And I like this site , which was responsible for initally bringing to my attention that I am coming across PINK. Not that I don't like pink. I am a girl. In fact, maybe pink CAN be evil. I need more skulls.
Enough bitching, that's what I say. I made Brodie a compilation last night, "Songs To Fuck To, but Not Songs To Fuck YOURSELF To". We listened to it after a night of too much beer and verbal bashing of pirate's EX, whom I drew a picture of with the caption I would burn holes through your head but my brain is too busy leaking out my eye sockets. It is small...my brain...so it won't take long. All EX girlfriends and boyfriends should be sent to an island, poked with sticks, and forced to listen the the White Stripes and the Strokes for all of eternity...while suffering from Crabs.
A boy who claimed to be a rock-n-roll photographer totally wanted to "do it to" Meg-Dog last night. He had thick black glasses like mine, but dorkier, and he took funny pictures of us, which I hope end up on his web-site some day to haunt us. Ater Meg-Dog went home and pirate took off to some party, Brodie and I rocked out to a crust-punk version on The Gentrys "I Keep On Dancing". We both got to sing in the microphone and are officially rock-n-roll sensations, at least by Mantis standards. We decided to start a new 'zine about what happens when we go to shows (not really reviewing the shows so much at all except to say things like It was during such-and-such band when I feel and spilled beer on someone in a wheelchair) but could not agree on a name. Any suggestion?
It's almost 10:00 on a Saturday night and I have no idea what the motherfuck I'm going to be doing but I can tell you this: I can ice-skate naked and make-out at the same time. Ask me how.
30 August 2002---1:50p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Spaceghost "Musical Bar-B-Que"
WARNING: Explicit material ahead. If you are under the age of 21, you should turn around and read about Kylie Minogue. Wait. Don't read about Kylie Minogue as she shows one of her boobs and her ass in her horrible video for "Can't Get You Out of My Head". Turn back and read about puppies. But not having sex with puppies. Just...puppies and their daily habits, which does not include people having sex with them...at least, not in my culture. Bottom line: don't read this if you can't stand words like "pussy".
PEOPLE HAVE RECENTLY BEEN LINKED HERE BY SEARCHING FOR THE FOLLOWING PHRASES: Morgan Captain stabbing Dennis A. Bell Female orgasms free sampler Cleveland blog fiesta Mexican Surfboard wrestling move Scared of Being Hurt Again greeting cards Fuck You Up the Ass Britney Spears getting fucked up the ass and in her pussy at the same time Spiking a watermelon Mom son sex fuck panty prom Pictures of angry guys getting kicked in the balls fetish
Now I can explain some of that...like I'm sure somewhere in here I have "Captain Morgans" written down and I do love the Kill The Hippies' song "I Wanna Fuck You Up the Ass". And let's not forget that Dennis A.Bell is one of my many future husbands and I had a horrible mishap with trying to spike a watermelon. Why someone was linked here for "pictures of angry guys getting kicked in the balls fetish" is beyond me. Who has a fetish like that? Creepy. I mean, I like to see angry guys get kicked in the balls as much as the next guy but still.
Mantis tonight, per usual. Radar Secret Service...YEEHAW. It's gonna be a good time. Plus, Lester will play first which is always good for helping me get my sauce flowing. And Kill The Hippies will be last, also great, because I liek to be nice and toasty when they play. I hope Brodie wears his dancing shoes. I hear White Chocolate has a new haircut...I am jazzed to see it. Hair says a lot abotu a person. I dyed mine.
Just had a funny conversation with Meg-Dog after I offered to buy her a more upper-crusty, not so trashy beer to consume at El Matisto tonight. She said she doesn't know how much drinking she'll be doing as she feels "Meeeeh" at best after drinking last night. I explained that the oeffer stood so she wouldn't have to drink Miller. The funniness is as follows: Meg:*shrugs* miller fits that atmosphere. Me:WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? Are you degrading MILLER or the MANTIS? Meg: no. i'm saying that they are friends that walk hand in hand alongside a stream on a crisp autumn day.
She is such a poet (right now she is being quite a WHINEY poet) so I am going to burn her a foolish CD. Not a poetic one.
29 August 2002---2:16 MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Screamin' Jay Hawkins "VooDoo Jive"
MY GIRL FLO...she really knows how to rock. MY GIRL FLO...she really knows how to go. I'm tell you this, I am going to have a new found appreciation for that song tonight and an even deeper appreciation when I go to church on Sunday to thank my creator for sparing me the agony of creating human life.
I also had to thank my creator for getting me out of a sore spot today when I got a flat tire about 35 minutes away from my house in the middle of the work/school day. Actually, I should really thank Tessa Marie Faith for pulling some strings and getting her boyfriend to leave work and help me out and then I should give HIM a crown and a septer for being so fucking handy and calming. Did someone call a man? I did, only after I called Brodie, Meg-Dog, and Tessa and whined, cried, and kicked dirt in to the ditch I was planning on tossing my body in.
I am going to dye my scruffy looking hair as a gift to myself pre-Lords of the Highway. I mean, I can't pick up boys looking like this...it's just a fact. Then tomorrow is the big Mantis bash, and the first show since school started, I might add. That's going to be too much fun to be legal...I love watching new Freshman being exposed to the big, bad Mantis for the first time. It's fun for me to wallow in their obvious fright, shock, and basic overwhelmed state. I get extra specially surly and nasty. Plus, I look forward to Radar Secret Service and the all important Lester song about the "Go-Ped".
I ate too much pumpkin roll and although Meg-Dog thinks it would be a waste for me to throw it up, I just might have to.
28 August 2002---1:53p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: The Mamas and the Papas "Best of..."
I am still waiting for My Girl Flo to arrive as she is a few days late, and teh fact that I have a new blemish on my chin is not reasurring me that I am not at this moment a potential mother. Therefore, I am doing the most irresponsible thing on a school night and going to get drunk at the Mantis with 75% of "my boys". Lester is playing and there is nothing I would enjoy more than hearing the song about the Go-Ped, though it won't be the same without Good Ol' Switchie. But back tracking and speaking of My Girl Flo...
...not only am I very excited about seeing Lords of the Highway tomorrow, but I am quite thrilled about being invited to Sugar's Labor Day barbeque on Monday, which I will attend with the already invited members of my crew, as well as anyone else who wants to enjoy "Jammin', Chillin', Swillin' and Grillin'" or however she put it.
Now for some unthinkable freshman antics: I was sitting in this spot I like to sit in behind a big statue of a brain...and near a smaller, cuter brain...by the social science buildings. It's a nice spot with benches, a fountail, and cool landscaping. Well, on the bench across from me are these fucking horny freshman, all over each other in broad daylight!!! It was like 9:15 for FUCK'S SAKE! I was peacefully trying to read "Where The Heart Is" and I hear this guy actually say to his chick, There's no way I'm going to be able to sit through class with this enormous hard-on so you better think of some way to fix it. Now, upon hearing this, I turned to look at them in disgust and lo and behold, he not only had a HUGE and OBVIOUS hard on, but her left tit was EXPOSED!!! I may be liberal but COME ON! So I stood up, walked over to them (and some how...some fucking how...they seemed surprised that they were not alone...in a public place...in front of school buildings...with kids...ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE), and said, That was the most immature display of obvious freshman behavior that I have ever been exposed to in my whole college career. You are the two most hideous beasts I have ever had the displeasure of laying my eyes on and now I, myself, just might not be able to sit through class thinking about your ugly faces and repulsive behavior. Get a fucking hotel room and spread your STDs around soemwhere other that here, OK? The guy called me a bitch and they got up and walked away, disheveled clothing, errection and all. It was sickening and now I don't think I can relax by my brains.
Some little fucker I can't stand from some retarded band is in my Human Evolution class. He sat by me because I probably looked "punk rock" and when he realized it was me, the woman he fears, he cowered and almost ran out of the room at the end of class. I have power and I like it.
26 August 2002---7:57p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: (STILL playing Nekromantix)
Stiny, get me a danish. Stiny, who spilled coffee over the plans for my ray of death>
Oh man, between this shit and the conversation I just had with Meg Dog about nuts, I am going to wet myself or throw up on my keyboard.
Beer one in progress.
26 August 2002---7:52p MUSIC TO BLOG TO: (still playing Nekromantix)
If Meg-Dog and I ever start a band, we are going to call our first album (or hit single), I Want a Boyfriend With Two Nuts and a Middle Name, upon her suggestion (though it wasn't so much a suggestion as a statement).
What girl out there doesn't know what she's talking about, eh?
26 August 2002---7:14p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Nekromatix "Return of the Loving Dead"
I think this site needs more skulls. And more poison. I also think this about my life.
I just placed an order on Amazon.com and this is what will be coming in the mail for me in a week or two: Radiskull and Devil Doll paperback by Tim Dedopulos and Joe Sparks Maus graphic novel by Art Spiegelman Demented Are GO "Alive and Rockin'"
I want to drink beer but it's a school night. I don't think like one or two or five will really hurt.
26 August 2002---4:51p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: 7 Year Bitch "Gato Negro"
I have successfully completed my first day of school and aside from some chaotic traffic and more dopey freshman than should be allowed on one campus, I really enjoyed myself. In fact, I could even say I had a fan-fucking-tastic day. I liked the material, the classrooms, the professors, and I even picked up a 7th (yes, that is a 7) class. I liked my Human Evolution class so much that I signed up for the lab.
But man oh man, my Film Noir workshop was so fucking rad I could have pee on myself and not cared. We watched a movie called "I Wake Up Screaming" which is much spookier than it sounds but at least it wasn't in French or overly artsy with no real point. I talked to my professor (the coolest old man on the PLANET who owns more cult films than anyone I've ever met...I want to rob his office) about when "Teenage Zombie House Massacre" was shown in Cult Films and clued him in to the upcoming premiers of "Midnight Skater". I happened to mention that I have an "in" and he asked if I could get him a copy for this semesters Cult Films. I wonder if this would help to get me an A in my workshops??? Beats sucking dick.
Other than that, I still can't stop listening to the theme song from Sea-Lab 2021, and when I'm not listening to it, I'm just singing it out loud, in a totally horrible voice. Supposedly, we get to hang out at the pirate's apartment tonight because his roomie is out of town, which really works out as I have to have my car out of my parking lot by 8:00am for some stupid reason. Argh.
I'm still trying to get a hold of Brett (whom I will now be refering to as "Brett the Knife" or just "The Knife") to get all the juicy and illicit details about his night of tom foolery with Ms.Navy Bound. The sentence Yes, Psychopuss, I "did it to her" last night and it was fantastic, in fact, I think I made her eyeballs fall out of her head better be included or I will really be disappointed.
25 August 2002---4:29p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Vermin "P.S. I Hate You"
It is the day before my very last Fall Semester of my college career and I am sick with the earache/sore throat/head congestion that kept me up all night. I tried to go to the Med Center but they wouldn't see me so I decided to retire to my couch with some Theraflu, a potpourri of other meds, and 3 really bad movies. Luckily, I have Brodie as company AND a box of 96 crayons so it's not all bad, while at the same time being incredibly painful.
I didn't get to party like a rock-star last night (which is how I wanted to say good-bye to summer) due to my pain, but I did get to fall asleep on my boyfriend's chest while watching cartoons, and that can be good, too, sometimes...even if saying it out loud makes me feel homosexual.
I'm looking forward to getting back into a routine tomorrow morning and I am going to bust my ass off all summer, you mark those fucking words. I want out of this school and even more so, I want out of this town. What I don't want is people asking me what my future plans are because, Hell, I don't know what they are and I'm not in a super rush to find out. If I have to work some ridiculous full-time job that has nothing to do with my degree, so be it. I just want to be happy because I know plenty of people with degrees who aren't. Just because I have some stupid piece of paper, I refuse to turn into a zombie. I'd rather eat that piece of paper.
I think the Theraflu is making me silly. I'm going to burn CDs and color and then watch a foolish movie with Mandy Moore in it...Brodie can't wait for it to start. He's practically pulling my leg off. Cross your fingers that I don't feel ill tomorrow.
HAPPY SCHOOL DAYS KIDDIES
24 August 2002---1:19p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Cake "Comfort Eagle"
Eventhough I want Don Gato to move in with his father, I always think it's sweet that he's the one who whines and cries for food in the morning (until myself and/or pirate feel like commiting animal abuse), yet he let's Vamipra and Johnny eat first. There are still traces of the cat I once knew.
Bought my books this morning to prep for Monday's return to Hell, along with supplies and a few Cake CDs (I need music to help me get through the 17 credit hour semester), as well as CDRs with which I will be making mixes for my friends whether they like it or not...mainly they will be for Brodie who appreciates everything I do yet doesn't make me feel like it was too nice of a gesture (niceness is for pussies). Speaking of pussies...
Sadly, Brodie and I did not get to go to Hall and Oates so we did the next best thing. Post-tattoo finishing (and DAMN, is it beautiful. I love my talented, little pirate), we came back to my house where I made too much Italian food and we listened to "The Greatest Hits of Hall and Oates" while drinking beer out of champagne flutes. It made me feel temporarily gay and I longed for the real thing. But the real thing would not have consisted of both Brodie and I stopping what we were doing to do the hand-claps during "Private Eyes" and then resuming our activities. I felt much cooler and more bad-ass when we started to watch Poltergeist (or Polterguist, however you prefer) 1 and 3, as well as awesome episodes of Spaceghost and the Brak Show, even if we did still utilize the champagne flutes. See my silouette through the curtain. Why I'm wearing a dress isn't certain. When I steal your dough, you'll be hurtin' from the stabbin' in the shower...with the spicket on HOT.
Last night was a laugh riot, some of the highlights being Switchblade and I trying to get Mary drunk by overdosing her drinks, Meg and myself having an underground Taco operation equipped with pirate-produced bird sounds as a warning signal, Brodie putting G.G.'s vibrator in his mouth, stirring a drink with it, and G.G. drinking said drink, smashing a television in a parking lot liek a bunch of hoods, Brodie and I pretending to be spies (no making out, I'm afraid), and lest I forget...Pork Shoulder Boston Butt Roast. I escaped without a hangover but Mary was not so lucky...I saw her this morning and I think the phrase "...looked like she was run over by a truck" applies here.
I really want to do something tonight, seeing as it is my last night of freedom before school engulfs my brain and turns me into a zombie, though I don't know what. I was gonna go see if anything was going on at the Mantis but it's all rainy and I've been all over town today so I didn't do that...but I will. I'm sure Switchblade and I can come up with something dangerous and exciting to occupy time.
Gotta burn CDs now. Friends need to rock out.
22 August 2002---11:53a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Descendents "Somery"
So, a lot has happened to me in the past few days that has made me wonder if "How Can You Afford Your Rock-n-Roll Liestyle" should be my theme song. But before I get going on all the mumbo jumbo, I would just like to say that I actually put in an application for a job that I would really like so everyone must cross their fingers. Onward to mayhem...the mayhem that was stolen from me yesterday.
DRAMA AT THE CIRCLE HOLLIGAN
Brodie and I accompanied Brett to the circle Hooligan to watch the pirate shave him and stick him with needles. This ancient practice is called "tattooing" and now Brett has tattooS, plural, but then I'm getting ahead of myself. So, yeah, we're there and the pirate is putting on his "serious face" which I can't stand but I guess he had to concentrate or whatever. Brodie and I decided to hike all over Kent...yeah, so it was only 2 blocks, FUCK OFF. After a brief discussion about fraternities (which lead to developing the Kent chapter of "Chicken Head-Vibrator-Beer Bottle"), we arrived at Video 101, where they actually let girls play C-Lo, unlike at circle Hooligan where they don't because girls are crafty and will take all their money...and then drink their blood. Regardless...
So we start rolling the dice and I mean Brodie and I are HOT as HELL. At one point we were up 110.00 and shouted our new catch phrase GOOD-BYE KENT CITY, HELLO VEGAS. But I guess we were greedy because those shmucks at the video store insisted we throw down and roll one for 113.00...why say "no"? I mean, we were ON. Yeah, well, we lost it all, and 3 of those bones belonged to Brett so we ran-sacked the store and sent videos a-flying, while screaming, Clean this up, ASS-FACES. But damn, we were upset and the only thing to cure our ills was Taco Bell...but we were broke. Luckily, after explaining the C-Lo situation, they gave us exactly 3.00 worth of food and beverage. But being "Outsiders", we don't take charity kindly, though we did eat the food...we felt the need to toughen up, knock over the register, and run...until we got to the hill and then it was time for a rest.
Then, it was time for the slickest move we had ever made. There were beings of the classification "frat boy" hogging the side-walk and the basically bullied us onto the grass so they could hog the concrete...at least, this is how it looked to the Feds who were on a sting operation. Little did they know that we were really doing a "pass the cash/pass the drugs" operation of our own. They felt so bad for us little bullied Outsiders that they gave us donuts...filled with drugs. So after getting high and strutting in slow motion to out "Slut Nasty" strutting music, we were once again at the circle Hooligan where we enjoyed a happy buzz and giggle fest. Once we collected Brett and collected beer, we returned to my house where the buzz wore off (it wasn't from the drugs at all but from the Methane gas they pump into the tattoo parlor...hence the "No Smoking" policy as they want to avoid the whole place going up in flames, equipped with carnage, damage, death.
Things at the PsychoPuss homstead were light and airy so I am just going to quote the description from the award-winning blog of Mr.Brett : I have been inked by the pirate, so I no longer have "tattoo", I have "tatooS". And when my tattoo was finished (and I had helped 'Puss and Brodie cope with having lost a tidy sum of money to the evils of gambling), I finally got to watch "Elvira, Mistress of the Dark". And while the movie was good, no part of it was as funny as when Psychopuss described Dawson of tributary fame (in the most sincerely complimentary voice that I have ever heard) with this gem: "He's got a head like my old dog's." I can't verify this as I have never seen said pooch, but that must have been one handsome dog.
DRAMA AT THE CIRCLE AMPITHEATER
Yesterday, being 2 months of the pirate and wench adventure, I decided not to spend it with him at all and to go to a big show dealy with Meg-Dog at the Tower City Ampitheater. She decided that this was a good day to brake in her new "Loose Women Flask" and I agreed as I knew beer would be expensive and I only had a mere 10.00 that the pirate lent me...LENT being the most important word. However, drama/trauma/chaos resulted. After filling said lask with Captain Morgan's Coconut Bay rum (and Meg asking me if I had ever been there...which I had...with her...when we were in Puerto Rico last October), Meg hid it down said skirt and we walked to the gates. However, said flask was only BETWEEN said skirt and said underwear and it was about to make it's grand enterance. After a lot of obvious fidgiting, it made it's way into Meg's panties...pretty hot for a first date. We both felt more secure and were anxiously awaiting the gates to fly open and welcome us. We even did a purse swap so my big bag could cover the outline of the flask in her ass (it will now be reered to as a flassk). However, heavy things in undies help undies to come down, and down they were a-coming. We had to stop...right by the enterance and right but the biggest security guard you've ever seen. He questioned Meg about what she was trying to smuggle in and she said I'm having a problem with my thong, to which he laughed and kind of sheilded her. It worked for the time being but on the walk to the stage, the flask was semi-visible and trouble was imminent.
Meg made a dash to the rest-room holding her behind like she was having serious anal problems but TADA...the flassk made it's way into my bag and she returned safely...but I think we were both still paranoid, and rightfully so as like 3 security guards watched Meg have her panty issues and post-getting beer, one of them asked if everything was under control to which she revealed that she has removed her thong and all was A-OK. From then on, those block-head security guards were clueless and we rocked.
Brief band run-down: In between our flassk ffiasco, and going to the bathroom to hit said flassk, bands played. I liked the Hackensaw Boys but I like country-ish, rockin' stuff. They were only a filler band but they were fun. Modest Mouse was good but not top-notch. When I saw them at the Newport, they were much better. De La Soul...well, I didn't wave my "party flags" until the turned ska with this dity: Engine, engine number 9, rolling cross the country line. If that rain falls of it's track, PICK IT UP, PICK IT UP, PICK IT UP. The Flaming Lips were stunning. The songs were OK but it was the stage show that rocked. People in bunny/ leopard/cow suits danicng and shining bright lights on huge disco balls, confetti and colored fog, a video on a huge screen that was in EXACT time with the whole show. It was fascinating and Meg is offically hooked.
I left Meg with some guys who claimed to be doctors...and were. One guy examined my tattoos and told me about how he sees tattoos on dead bodies all day. Maybe he was trying to memorize me for my upcoming demise. Meg was having a blast with her flassk and her doctors (and wants me to mention that Flaming Lips covered Kylie Minogue) so I went to rest my barking dogs and rock to Cake from a seated position and boy did I ROCK THE FUCK OUT. Now, my money is totally on Cake. They were fucking bad-ass and I didn't realize how many cake songs I knew until they started...all but 1. And they played "Frank Sinatra", which I fucking forgot all about and almost had a orgasm...until...the only Psychobilly looking guy in the joint (whose hair could have easily killed pirates hair...and Kim's from Nekromantix) comes over to me and the conversation is as follows: PsychoBoy: Want to dance? (I shake my head "no") You don't dance? PsychoPuss: I could dance your pants off. I just don't want to. PsychoBoy: Come on. (Again I shake my head "no"). You've never met a rocker like me. PsychoPuss: I've met a lot of rockers. PsychoBoy: You'll be missing out. (He then touched my shoulder). PsychoPuss: Well, I've got a psycho at home who misses me so I think I'll miss out on you. PsychoBoy: Your loss, baby-doll. (This made me think of how Brodie calls me "Skull-Face").
I had the best night possible...and I owe it to Meg-Dog and John for letting me come out and play. After a semi-goofy ride home (I forgot to mention that I tricked Larry into looking at my belly button scar...HA HA HA), and hitting the hooch once I got here, I was awoken by a pirate...my pirate, not just a random one. We exchanged goofy storied and then...lunch. He was happy to report that MIDNIGHT SKATER IS FINISHED and will be premiering soon on campus, probably at the Kiva. It's a big deal so once I find out the date, please mark it in your calendar. It's a big deal for him as it is his first feature-length movie and we all need to be there to support him. DAMN, my hands hurt and I am not yet groomed to go to the parlor and get this tattoo bullshit finished. God, it's been a crazy past few days. Let's see if we can out-do it this weekend, shall we kids?
While Frank Sinatra sings "Stormy Weather", the flies and spiders get along together. Cobwebs fall on an old skipping record.
20 August 2002---11:52a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Sebadoh "Bakesale"
I just made the pirate late for work.
I don't feel the least bit sorry about that fact. Especially since he made me go see this god awful performance art thing at the Mantis last night...which consisted of one chunky girl in tassle panties doing cheerleading to open and close the show (and then bumping and grinding whenever the musical spots came up...but she was so retarded that she wasn't even allowed to stand on the stage), another horrific woman acting stuff out that was spoken onto a pre-recorded tape (complete with echo and dialouge that made zero sense) and a thrid girl coming out to lip-sync and dance like a robot to songs they had poorly written. They tried to sell that piece of shit on a CD. It was confusing and lame and dare I say, "art-faggy"?
Post-show was entertaining as we made a pit-stop at G.G.'s and we not only watched porn with them but she attempted to put pornographic raspberry "I came from Ambiance and I get hot when you blow on me" liquid on pirate's arm, which I don't think he liked. I was a bit loopy as I was celebrating my application to graduation...I had a minor headache but it's gone. Pirate always says that this one particular thing can cure any ill...he's right
I have a hot-date with Brett to go to the tattoo parlor so he can get ink #2...I always enjoy the company of Mr.Brett. I might even be able to get this god forsaken flying cat skull done (#12)...if things are slow circa 1:00. I have my fingers crossed. I could use some new ink and I'm anxiously awaiting the blue in this baby.
In grand news, Mr.John is home and I am anxiously awaiting an opportunity for Meg-Dog, pirate, John MM, and myself to hit the hooch together and today, it was declared that we are all in love. Some people never find love...I find it in multitudes.
Unless someone can ront me 25.00, I am going to miss Hall and Oates, and you don't know how much this hurts me since I missed Huey Lewis. They're going to sing "Out of Touch" and I'm going ot miss it. Where did I put my hammers?
18 August 2002---9:36p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: (still playing Florida 2002 Comp.)
Someone found my blog by searching for bad ass pregnancy. What some people want to fucking know about these days, I swear. And what IS a "bad ass pregnancy", exactly?
18 August 2002---8:44p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Florida 2002 Comp: Vol.4
I woke up in an absolutly foul mood after only sleeping in 15 minute intervals all night long. It was so effed off and I was pretty beastly so I removed myself from the bed before 8:00, which is fucking unnatural for a Sunday, and chit-chatted with G.G. on-line, who was also up at an unreasonable hour, showered, and just felt plain gloomy. Despite the black rain cloud that hung over my head and my very Davey Havok-esque demeanor, I was accompanied by the pirate for a pretty kick-ass visit with my darling sister and her familia where I think he was a hit...however, the rain cloud continued to follow me and I am now enjoying my first beer of the evening and preparing to give Dee Snider's "Strangeland" a second chance which should just prove how ultimately lame I really am.
In some better news, I am in tip-top shape and back on the rockin' scene. I had a fan-fucking-tastic Friday night with the Outsiders Crew. My eyes could have been decieveing me, but I think I saw Meg "Cherry Valance" Dog dancing...not like "Saturday Night Fever" dancing, but rocking. I had a great time and it was a good reintroduction into society, especially since a 15 year old tried to pick a fight with Switchblade, and you shouldn't pick a fight with "Pony-Boy" Switchblade, especially if you've "dranken a 30oz". I asked a drummer that I think Meg should have slept with (speaking of sleeping with Meg-Dog, I've heard soem good stories from her lately and I have new respect and admiration for what we will now call "tattoo sex". You have to have a tattoo to do this.) if he could twirl his drum sticks like a metal-drumme because I admire that...he couldn't, and therefore, I'm sure no one slept with him, even if he did resemble a "Seven"-ish Brad Pitt. Other than that, I admire men who grow floppy hair-dos and confidently rock with their 2 microphones and no turn-tables formula. I also admire Elias "don't pop the buttons off my shirt" Newton, as he knows what it means to rock the house...MOOOOOOVE OVER.
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:Meg-Dog and Switchblade spill beer on people and they don't appreciate it.
I don't want to be jerky and hope that John MM can't go to Modest Mouse (and no, MM does not stand for Modest Mouse) because I know Meg-Dog would like to rock out with him...is it rocking out if it's a Modest Mouse show? I think it is...but I would also like to go and was told that I could "have" a ticket if John was MIA. Still, I hope he goes. Also, hopefully, I will no longer have to "have" random tickets because my pirate told me that he can help get me a job at the Mr.Fun's in my town (so don't fret, I wouldn't work with my pirate. I don't mix my work and my play) and I would love that more that I love my own filth. When I have money in my pocket, I am taking everyone out for a beer...not everyone in the world but everyone in the Outsiders Crew. You can even get imports if you feel so inclined.
Now NO ONE can question my status as a rocker...this entry was brought to you by the word admire.
16 August 2002---11:35a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Teen Idols "s/t"
First, let me just say that I have not yet come to grips with my post-surgical issues. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't look the same! Brodie said it's still cute and looks like a cresent moon or the letter "c" (but he did acknowledge that it does not look the same), and the pirate said he can't even tell if there's a difference or not...obviously he doesn't love me that much because I know EXACTLY what his belly button looks like. I'm just upset about this no matter how petty it seems. I'm worried about going ot the Mantis tonight because I really wanted to wear the tank-top the pirate bought me but I'm afraid if I fidget, you'll see the bandage...and I'll be reminded of my awkward new belly button. I'm just going to kill myself Wendy O. Williams style (though she failed at this attempt) by driving a knife into my chest with a hammer. YOU COULDN'T HIDE ALL THE HAMMERS, BRODIE!!!
My pirate cut Brodie's hair last night after he was inspired to "go greaser" post watching "Dueces Wild". I've got to say, it is the best haircut I have ever seen on that boy's head. Dare I say "hot", almost? But I do have a soft-spot for greasers and all...and with Brodie's new haircut, my greaser gang is really starting to blossom! Hell, my greaser-ish pirate bought himself a switchblade yesterday and was attacking beer cans! Now we just have to get Switchblade a switchbalde...comb, that is...and we'll be ready to defend our block. Does anyone have a block???
I am excited to go out tonight. It has been over 2, count 'em, 2 weeks since I've been to the Mantis and I'm sure it misses me. I was just instructed by G.G. (who claims she may make an appearance tonight though I know she won't) to take a nap before the festivities. I think I will actually heed her motherly advice...and then I will be able to shower because my motherfucking water is going to be turned back on by the time I get home. YAHOO! Now the pirate can stop peeing in my backyard and the urine smell from those of us still civilized enough to use the non-flushing toilets will be no more!!
Good luck to Brett as he ventures out on his first date in months this evening with a just-barely-leagl chickadee who is back on the singles circuit. I think you have to be at least over 21 for it to be considered that you are now or ever were on the so-called single's circuit. 19 seems too young to have accumulated such a past. Either way, I still stand by my ever popular new catch phrase of HE'S GONNA DO IT HER...because I think he will. And he should.
Good-Bye Kent City, HELLO VEGAS!!!
15 August 2002---4:17p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Trading Spaces
I am in total and utter superficial agony because my third bandage fell off and my belly button no longer looks the same. Yes, I am crying. Yes, I am really upset. Yes, I feel stupid for being upset but yes, I am upset. God, it looks so stupid. I am in utter agony. AGONY.
To make matter worse, when Tessa was reading me a list of songs and she came across Micheal Graves fronted neo-Misfits' songs, she refered them as "The Misfits", upon which I almost vomitted on G.G.'s keyboard.
WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO????
13 August 2002---5:56p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: cable television
To continue on with my story, I will be brief. Saturday, I was released from the hospital with little more than jello and air in my tummy...yes, I just recieved a voicemail from Meg-Dog informing me that my tummy is so balloon-like because they pumped AIR into during the surgery. HOW FUCKING GROSS. I feel like I'm lugging a god damn baby around, furthur assurance that I will never want to reproduce.
I had many visitors who brought many gifts and spent many hours entertaining me. Those were the good times and I thank you guys. But there have been bad times where I can not stand, sit, move, and just basically want to cry my fucking head off. Pirate has been the best nurse anyone could ask for and has put up with my being an absolute beastie. It was nice to have lots of company, but sometimes my stomach felt so bad that I was embarrassed at how sluggish I was. I can't eat very much and the painkillers are doing more harm then they are good to my system. I'll tell you this, I look forward to NOT sleeping on my back.
Today, I left my house for the first time to venture to G.G.'s due to a precited 90 degree day. The few moments I spent in the car were enough to get me dizzy and car sick, which fucking SUCKED. Pirate is going to pick me up and transport me back to my bed and I have to say, I'm not looking forward to that either. All this moving is FUCKING KILLING ME. I'm also kicking the Percoset to the curb...they really aren't helping thaty much and I don't really like feeling liek a zombie, it rots.
My goal is to be back in the game and at least GO to the Mantis on Friday. Sure, someone will have to protect my belly, but if I feel up to it...and I promise I will not force myself...I'm there. I'll be the one complaining in the back.
12 August 2002---6:12p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: AFI "Answer That..."
Alright, I tried to do this once already this morning but my Percoset made it impossible for me. I will do as much as I can before I get loopy and then it'll be quittin' time for this factory worker. Just as I started before, I would like to state, before I go into the big bad world of blood, guts, and gore, that I have the coolest friends in the world, no exceptions. Each and everyone one of them rocks, bent over backwards, and has made this horrible experience somewhat bearable. Onward to chaos...
THE DAY MY GUTS DECIDED TO ESCAPE BY BODY FRIDAY 8/9/2002
When I woke up, I thought I had gas, which was embarrassing because the pirate was still here and girls don't get gas. Upon his leaving for work, I tried to do my "business" but it was impossible. I had these cramps under my ribs like I had been running too much (HA HA) and it felt like my abdomen was being stretched like a rubberband, and I really thought it would all go away. After a really uncomfortable stint in the bathtub and some quality time on the toilet, I called G.G. to ask her opinion. She ushered over a laxative that never quite kicked in and around 4:00, after more time spent in the bathroom, many little naps that ended with me screaming in pain when my right side was touched, and 155 pages of "Where the Heart Is", I called G.G. and we were on our way to the emergency room, post 2 popsicles to help me regain some balance. I figured we should go and get some meds so I could still make it to the Mantis with my boys.
We got there and I realized, besides the fact that I really could no longer walk, that people are assholes including the 2 old people who worked the admittance area, the he-nurse that took my information, AND the woman who SUPPOSEDLY had a miscarrage who got to go ahead of me. G.G. came back to my bed once they let me have once (slow fuckers) and had to help me IN, and then five seconds later when they decided the wanted me in a gown and with a urine sample, got me OUT. It was a slow and painful procedure with all signs now pointing to my apendix, which I couldn't believe because I really just had a tummy ache. I was white as a sheet and moving slower than the slowest old fucker on Earth and I wanted some fucking painkillers...but couldn't have any as they would disguise symptoms. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. The first psuedo doctor took my info., poked and proded and was follwed by a nurse who took some blood and another he-nurse who gave me an IV...and if you know me at all, I HATE FUCKING IVs therefore I was NOT happy at ALL and starting to get rowdy. Another doctor, and I think this one was legit, came in and did his poking and said they were calling the surgeon on call to take a look because it was most likely my apendix. I decided that G.G. better officially cancel my plans (I already had recieved nasty messages on my machine from Switchblade) and let the pirate know that his wench was in some trouble. Erasing a bunch of mundane details including a vaginal exam, a rectal exam, a funny and painful Alvin story, and the pirate offering to check Brett's prostate if it would make me feel better, and I was signing release forms to have my apendix removed. Isn't that about a bitch?
My parents were called as I was rolled into a pre-surgery prep-room where "my family" had to say their good-byes. I got kisses from G.G. and pirate and a "I'll Spare You" smile and nod from Brett, but as they walked away, I got spooked and the tears were flowing, so they rushed back where I got more comfort and when G.G. started to cry, I had to be tough. Then they were gone...leaving me to the devices of strangers who wanted to cut me open. Really, not much happened then that I can remember...I was wheeled into the surgery room and Eddie Cochran and the like was playing on the radio. They shot something into my IV and told me I would have a tube down my throat to help me breathe and a cathator for urinating that would be removed when I was awake but I wouldn't remember and that was that. I woke up in recovery with a sore and swollen belly, sore throat, some Morphine, and a burning desire to urinate...which had to be done in a bed pan...oh, the agony. But my apenidx was gone and I was told it was in the nick of time as it was basically rotten. Damn the man. My Mom was proudly showing a photo of my uterus, pus, my apendix, and more pus to my friends. Just like a proud Italian mama...though she's not Italian at all.
They rolled me past the waiting room and I vaugely remember my parents saying they had met the pirate, and seeing Meg-Dog out the corner of my eye and I was out again. I got my own room, equipped with ice-chips that Meg-Dog INSISTED on feeding me...but she did a great job...and visits from the pirate and Brodie, along with a gift pack of stolen hospital items from Meg and pirate including a bug I slept with on my chest all night long. I felt so embarrased that my pals had all seen me in such horrible pain and looking like trash but the fact that they all rushed out here when I was in trouble means a lot. Plus, my parents met the pirate so that's out of the way. YEEHAW. I crashed out but got visits every hour to have my blood pressure and temperature taken, as well as to be helped with expanding my lung capacity which shrunk when I was on the respirator. My body was shot. I can't believe that I actually thought it was just gas and that I'd make it to the Mantis. WHO WAS I KIDDING, EH?
There's more to this story that developed when I awoke and realized this wasn't some minor thing and I was walking a fine line...the pain was INCREDIBLE and I was pretty much uselss to myself. It was all very embarrasing and I realize more now than ever that I would hate being an invalid. But I am starting to feel weak and dizzy and I think my bed misses me. I will finish up when I get some strength back. Thanks again to everyone who was around.
TO BE MOTHERFUCKING CONTINUED...
8 August 2002---8:57p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Adult Swin cartoons
If we were The Outsiders, I would be Dally (a.k.a Dallas Winston) because I am a trouble maker and will die to protect my greaser status, however unjust.
Switchblade would be Pony-Boy because he kisses Socs whenever he can but remains a greaser.
Pirate would be Soda-Pop because he works so much and, as we all remember, Soda-Pop worked at the gas station and there was one hot scene where he was getting out of the shower, prepping for work. Oh, hot, hot Rob Lowe.
I think G.G. would be Darry because Patrick Swayze was like the mother/father figure of the group and all, kept 'em out of two much trouble.
Switchblade's EX is Cherry Valance because she is a SOC and probably doesn't even know who The Outsiders ARE.
I say that Brett is Two-Bit Matthews because he is so good natured and golden-hearted and fabulous and will probably die doing something heroic.
Brodie is Two-Bit Matthews because he ate a whole cake, watched cartoons, and wore a mickey Mouse shirt and that reminds me og Brodie. Plus, Brodie and Emilio just go together in my brain.
GREASERS FOR LIFE
8 Auguest 2002---4:52p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Stray Cats "Greatest Hits"
A Comprehensive List of Tid-Bits Today Has Offered Thus Far
1. Upon cleaning only half my room, half the computer room, and my entire car, I have already found 12, yes, 12 lighters including: 4 greens, 2 purples, 2 blues (1 with my zodiac sign), 1 with honeycombs, 1 from Clark, 1 boring clear one, and 1 shaped like a Miller Lite bottle equipped with proper labeling.
2. If Brett doesn't start updating more, I am taking him off my "Click Or Die" list because I've been clicking with absolutly no results. Speaking of clicking with no results...
3. ...the pirate did not want to have lunch with my last night and this morning, he opted to go with Andy "Axl" Campbell to buy knives rather than have morning lunch (which I usually hate as I am nocturnal...or at least dim atmospheric...when it comes to lunching) with me. This is very unfair since last night, I was forced to watch an extrememly painful video that Andy and pirate made for a high school history class of them depicting the historic facts of Bonnie and Clyde, with the pirate portraying Bonnie, in a dress and all.
4. I have had one line from that "Prom Queen" song in my head all fucking day (Now she wants another drink. Now she's puking in the sink. She's not a prom queen anymore) followed by the entire chorus from "Ugly Boys" by the Connie Dungs and it's all wearing thin.
5. I listened to "Use Your Illusion 1" by Guns-n-Roses on my way home from doing my laundry today and was embarrassed eventhough I was alone. My G-n-R fetish died before high school and I still know all the words to "Dust and Bones" which wasn't even a hit or a released single.
6. I told my EX that we shouldn't speak because he is causing me to experience mental difficulties.
7. Switchblade told me a story that implied he once masturbated in a semi-public place and though I would relaly like to believe it because it would add to his coolness factor, I don't. This happened last night but i didn't want to forget to mention it later.
More to come as the day wears on. I am off to eat mashed potatos and call my Mom about borrowing her tent for next weekends camping purposes. Who's Mantising with me tomorrow night??
7 August 2002---7:28p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: (still playing Weston)
I am sexually selfish.
Switchblade is sexually anti-social.
What are you?
7 August 2002---6:57p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Weston "Got Beat Up"
I just want to set the record straight: When I refered to Brett and Brodie as "both of my boys", I was NOT excluding my MAIN MAN JOHNNY SWITCHBLADE. I wrote him about the whole camping experience and he never got back to me about it so when it came time to blog, I just summed up the two people that were going both camping and to Chiller in October as "my boys". The equivalent to "my dudes". When they aren't all around, they're still your "dudes". So I aplogize to Mr."I'm So Sensitive" Siwthcblade...I would love nothing more than your presence at both events, though I highly doubt you'll go to either. From now on, when I discuss my "boys", this includes two or more of the following: Johnny Switchblade, the pirate, Brodie, and Oh-So-Sexy Brett Martin. The end.
NOT THE END...Switchblade just basically told me that I'm not classy because I burp loud, have flased people in my past, and had a picture of my underwear sporting ass taken, not to mention that he feels he can say the term "FRONT BUTTED PUSSY FART" to me. You really shouldn't have that feeling at all. And I wrote a SONG ABOUT YOU. DOES THAT NOT EXPRESS MY LOVE AND COMMITMENT THAT YOU ARE ONE O MY BOYS??????
I'm going to take my NON-CLASSY ASS downstairs and have a beer. I bet classy gals don't even drink beer. Pussies. (I bet the don't say "pussies" either).
7 August 2002---11:52a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Cramps "Bad Music.../Songs the Lord Taught Us"
I have finally taken the initiative to start cleaning my domain as it has become surface clean, yet still unliveable. Sure, I haven't gotten up from my computer chair as of yet but that doesn't mean I haven't cleaned out all the drawers and stuff...I have filled a whole gargabe bag and this room is looking glorious already. I admit that I fear going into my room since you never know what may be lurking within it's walls. I have decided the whole "let's be bohemian and put my matress on the floor" thing doesn't work for me and I want a fucking bed. Therefore, I'm going to have to use my muscles and I don't think they're gonna like what the feel as they've been on a vacation for the past 4 years.
GOOD NEWS... rumor has it that not only is Brett going to camp with me next weekend for that whole punk fest thing that Kill The Hippies are playing (with a post-work Brodie joining us) but BOTH of my boys are going to accompany me to the Chiller Expo in October in beautiful old JERSEY (NEW Jersey? Well, if you're from Jersey, you're from Jersey.) I am filled with nothing but motherfucking GLEE and I can already feel the bile surfacing.
I actually think the bile may be coming from the pizza I ate at Brett's shin-dig yesterday. I motherfucking hate pizza (along with the other top 3 hated "P" foods: pretzels, pineapple, peanut-butter) but I was so hungry, I forced myself through a piece and a half. Well, needless to say, it sat like a rock for the next few hours and I had to haul my angry tummy and sorry self home. A drunk pirate was waiting for me when I got here and we "had lunch". I like lunch. I am a lunch enthusiast. I'm hoping to have lunch with him again today. I only rub this in for the amusement of Brett...amusement or toryure, I'm not sure which yet.
I have to go get some fabric to make heavier curtains because, in the words of the glamorous and seductive Paula "I'm going to be tattooed on your arm for eternity" Prentiss: I'm going out to buy some nice heavy curtains. This place will be quiet as a TOMB (foreshadowing).
6 August 2002---3:18p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: The Gears "Rockin' at Ground Zero"
Oh my FUCK, Brodie just called and refered to us at "The Wrath Pack" and I basically almost threw up because all the glee one human could experience filled my throat like MOTHERFUCKING SWEET BILE. I think that should be the name of our band...not Plastic Surgery A-Go-Go...but the one I've been writing the dirty Psychobilly songs for, fuck yeah. I'm in a great mood, fucking killer.
Brodie called me PsychoPuss today and I decided I'm going to go with it because I have shead some serious skin with cutting my numerous umbilical cords and all. I've been writing songs, painting, playing my bass (all hail Samantha Sour-Strings)...I feel like me and it FUCKING ROCKS.
Songs For "The Wrath Pack" As Of This Moment Johnny Switchblade's Rocket In a Hot Rot Psychobilly Baby (formerlyPsychobilly Sugar)
6 August 2002---1:54p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Guided By Voices "Do the Collapse"
I was e-mailing back and forth with my Mom today and mentioned how the pirate wanted me to meet his Mom. MY mother responds with Get rid of all your tattoos before you meet her. Rolling my eyes as far back in my head as they could go, I responded, You're forgetting where her son works and that all of her kids have tattoos and when I asked him what his Mom thought of them, he said she loves him just the way he is. You know what I got as a reponse from the woman who gave me life and is supposed to unconditionally love me? I love you just the way you were. Classy.
I think I am going to go to this punk festival in Newark, OH, next weekend. It boasts camping, punk rock, and shenanigans, plus, Kill The Hippies are playing. My parents have a huge tent and I thought it might be a kick-ass way to close out the summer in style. If anyone feels like accompanying me, it's only 5.00 for both days and I bet there will be some foxy boys and girls for you kids to kick it with. Just thinking of your libidos.
6 August 2002---12:48p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Hellbillys "Cavalcade of Perversions"
I came across some dopey quiz entitled "Why You Are Going To Hell" and I figured that it was right up my alley since I will eventually be staking residence there. One of the questions was What do you love...the most?. As I sat here and pondered the tough decision between my significant other and ice-cream, I decided to go with the rather obvious Love? Fuck Love. I'll kill the son-of-a-bitch that tries to love me. When asked if I thought 7 was a swell number, I chose Shut your Fuckin Mouth! Can you see the kind of mood pattern that is developing here??? According to this quiz, I am currently SIN FREE. Let's here it for the shock value of that puppy.
Decisions I Have Made All By Myself Recently:
1. I am going to start the official and hardocre job hunt on Monday and I am not going to return to my house without a job, i don't care what it is. I am money hungry and would like to pay back everyone I owe and buy some motherfucking clothes. So wish me luck. I don't care if I have to scrub fucking toilets.
2. I've decided to get two of my back tattoos covered up in order to get a huge black and grey back-piece (including the moon, fog, bats, tombstones, skeletons, etc.). I am thrilled about this and can not wait to spend thousands of dollars I don't have and be in unending pain for hours upon hours upon hours. But being cool is a tough job, what can I say?
3. I am officially starting my band and I don't give a fuck if there's any other members in it. Switchblade suggested that it could just be Brodie and I ala the White Stripes but with bass and I thought that idea rotted, just like the above mentioned White Stripes. I wrote a song last night titled "Johnny Switchblade's Rocket in a Hot-Rot" and I would post the lyrics, but they have adult connotation and suggestive material so I'll spare you. I did use the words "cumming" and "tits". (I also wrote songs about Sugar and my bass, respectively, with far less dirty words but they don't rock as hard).
4. Since there is no way I am going to be able to hitch-hike to the Horror Movie Convention in Pasadena liek I had planned, I am CERTAINLY going to the Chiller Theater Expo in New Jersey at the Meadowlands, October 25-27. I am especially excited about the Saturday Night Monster Party & Dance-Featuring the NEW and Improved Costume Contest (music provided by "The Dead Elvi" and more). I don't know much more about it because they are currently updating the web-page. Who's with me?????????
I've also decided that I will take a shower because I feel icky and I will write the pirate a "note" because I am in the 4th grade.
5 August 2002---5:53p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Nekromantix "Return of the Loving Dead"
When I listen to the Nekromantix, I have to skip over that pathetic "Who Killed the Cheerleader?" song (which I must have been unknowingly skipping the whole time since I didn't even know it was them, but knew I hated it) because I think it is ridiculous and lame. "Prom Queen" by the Automatics is far superior in way of songs about chicks gone wrong. Switchblade and I are trying to rustle up some lyrics from our memories but we are old and when you FSSU every weekend, your mind goes...all I know is it could kick that Nekromantix song straight in the nuts.
Speaking of the Nekromantix, it was brought to my attention yesterday by Miss Kinney (who came to save me from myself after the HORRIFIC day I had...I love you, Miss Kinney, and I love you, pirate, for not letting me lose it and have to go to Belmont Pines...where the pirate did NOT want me to go, only because he wanted me to go somewhere where I could wear a straight jacket. You would be so cute) that my cats were fucking in the dining room. I said to the pirate, They were fucking on your posters yesterday and he went running to save them and I heard, NOT ON THE NEKROMANTIX. Cats like to fuck on psychobilly posters the most.
I drove past the Town Homes today and saw that they had a new NOW LEASING sign. I had a good laugh because the old one had to be removed when some clever hoodlum took spray paint to it and changed NOW LEASING into the much funnier NOW PLEASING HORNY BITCHES. Made me want to live there...made me want to be the responsible hoodlum.
UPCOMING EVENTS YOU MAY WANT TO BE A PART OF Tuesday 8/6 Brett's: Beer, beer, and 15 year olds Friday 8/9 Mantis: Lester, Mikey Machine Go Boom, Self Destruct Button, Rancid Yak Butter Tea Party Monday 8/12 Grog Shop: The Vermin (don't ask, I just wanna go) Thursday 8/22 Tower City Amp: HALL AND MOTHERFUCKING OATES (I missed Huey, so this is a MUST) Thursday 8/29 Beachland: Lords of the Highway Friday 8/30 Mantis: Radar Secret Service, Kill the Hippies, Lester, Sosumi, The Wiggins (MUST, MUST BE THERE)
This entry was bought you by the letters X and P, the number 7, and my "Songs To FSSU To: Volume 1" mix that has not left my car's CD changer in over a week.
4 August 2002---1:35p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Buzzcocks "Singles Going Steady"
Well, yesterday was a motherfucking hoot and a half and I am damn glad that I didn't let my shady mood, headache, or cough ruin a fabulous evening with Meg-Dog...and Guided By Voices.
Our tale begins after Meg-Dog and myself bought some bottled beer and smokes and made the journey to WRUW on Euclid...a place that Meg claims she had never been before. Now, I don't know if she has been dipping into the medicine cabinet before I got her but SUPPOSEDLY Meg has never been to Cleveland, never been on Euclid, and does not know where any of the streets or exits lead to...which I find off as she lives here, goes to school here, and I have been to shows with her in the area on several occasions. Nevertheless, I managed to get us to the show AND do the worst park job in the best spot EVER. After stopping to have my picture taken at Ozzfest (otherwise known as the most architecturally displeasing building in creation), we were saddened to discover that WRUW allowed no bottles, therefore, we had no beer. Bummer.
Band 1...stupid girl who didn't fit into her top and constantly held one finger in the air as she sand her horrible songs. Band 2...my future husband, an Elvis look-alike, and Meg-Dog's future husband, a man with a hat and a bass who yelped, YEEEEEEEEEAWWWWWWWW, not to be mistaken with YEEEEEHHHHAAAAAWWWWW, which is what I was yelping. I liked them. I liked that half way through their set and a mere two minute walk away, we found beer and we bought it...and we drank it...and one of us drank too much too fast. Band 3...my cousin refered to them as "my dudes" and I refered to them as "Viva Carmel"...I hope they heard me, too, and I wish I would have called them "Viva Carmel Sundae".
A prime spot right up against the concrete slab of a stage, and a few bathroom trips, and we were rocking out with GBV and one Miller Lite drinking Bob Pollard. He sure can swing a microphone, I'll tell you that much. I don't know what the deal was but I was just being showered in heat from some unkown source, which was a pity because it was a goddamn beautiful night and I was really enjoying being at a show outdoors. I wish more shows were outdoors. Regardless, I had to move out of the front and off to the side because I didn't want to sweat...that's not very lady like. I was acosted by Brodie and Larry, and I was escorted to the bathroom right during GAME OF PRICKS, one of the three songs I wanted to hear. I sang it in the bathroom...and I probably sang it loud and offkey. Brodie secured more beer and I secured a good spot of the grass for "Teenage FBI" and "I Am a Scientist". Unfortunatly, they insisted on covering that Who song...blech...but I survived, and it really was the best GBV show I've ever been to.
I think the show also rocked for Meg-Dog who got not one, but TWO drumsticks. She is now officially a drummer and a rebel drummer at that as she likes to drum on property of the Law School. The goofiness continued on teh walk to the car as Meg got her picture with strangers, and I had an actual photo schoot with a stranger that called me an adorable creature, equipped with Meg-Dog posing us. If you want to see the results to our beer-induced and musically influenced tom-foolery, Meg-Dog's site is the place to be.
I drove home with a little too much beer in my system but was WAY pleasantly surprised to see the pirate's car in my driveway...and he was supposed to be in Chicago until late tonight. I walked in the door and jsut felt nothing but joy and relief to see him standing there, in the process o writing me a note...which said he got me a few things and had a surprise. Well, the surprise was that he got a shrunken zombie head tattooed on his forearm, which is cool, but not NEARLY as cool as the tank-top he bought be or the fucking bad-ass star bracelet that I will never ever take off. I was soooo happy to see him and how well I slept was just the best cap-off to a uckign great night.
I never did get my photo taken with the guy who looked like Elvis. Luckily, he is from Cleveland so I will stalk him.
3 August 2002---1:39p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: (still playing Sebadoh)
Someone actually got linked to my blog by seeking out this phrase: Where can I find pictures of the HIVS?
What the FUCK is wrong with people and who the MOTHERFUCK wants to see pictures of the HIVS??? I didn't know anyone called it "THE HIVS" besides Brodie and Oh-So-Sexy Brett Martin.
In retrospect and with the help of editing, I bet that poor sucker was looking for pictures of The HIVES.
3 August 2002---1:21p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Sebadoh "Bakesale"
You know, I haven't listened to this album in awhile and although some of the songs rock in the tamer sense of the word, a majority of them are really sad and depressing and probably not the best selection for me to be blogging to today.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY WEN-DOG and HAPPY ANNIVERSARY SCORCH-CAKE SANDY AND SIZZLE-CHEST RICHARD. Don't ask...I'm in a wacky mood. I think it's my wisdom teeth. Meg-Dog suggested this cocktail in order to ease my pain: Urinary Tract Medication that turns my urine orange, muscle relaxers, Advil, a shot of liquor, and I believe Valium came up at some point. If I ingested all of that stuff, I would either feel I was qualified to remove my wisdom teeth on my own or they would just try to escape from my mouth. Creepy.
I once read a book in my dentist's office about all these teeth walking through the woods...along the way the incisors met the molars and they met the bicuspids, etc., and they were all looking for a smile. Well, they found an old woman who made a pie but didn't have any teeth to eat it (bad dental hygiene) so they all climbed inside her old, crusty mouth and nestled in for life to be her smile. She ate the pie. I wondered how the teeth on the top didn't get dizzy from being upside-down. Then I realized that the story was fucking sick.
I may have very well botched up the best thing in my life (being my relationship with the pirate) by letting my EX get under my skin and mind-rape me. Miss Kinney told me not to sweat it, that the pirate will back me up when he retunrs from the tattoo convention...IF he comes back. His tone when he said, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE SENDING ME TO CHICAGO LIKE THIS, followed by a slam of my bedroom door was NOT encouraging. I'm just experiencing a little bit of mental retardedness that I think everyone goes through when a bad relationship comes back to haunt you. The Ghosts of Boyfriends Past seem to always come back for one last scare (that would be a good band name).
Speaking of bands...ARGH MOTHERFUCKER, ARGH. I was also happy to hear "Skulls For Balls", "Walk The Plank" and "We're Pirate-Core". It would have been better if I said more than two words to the pirate and didn't eat so many gummy Life Savers. Hopefully, going to GBV with Meg-Dog tonight will help me get my mind off the possible demise of my relationship, as long as they play "Valuable Hunting Knife".
Brodie came up with fabulous stage names for our Plastic Surgery (spelled correctly) band:
Sinatra Sutures or Sutures Sinatra
Dialysis Davis, Jr.
Don Fallopian Knots (though it doesn't follow the Rat Pack theme...maybe he should be like Menengitis Martin).
2 August 2002---5:04p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: AFI "Very Proud Of Ya"
I'm always around you to show that I care but I don't know what for. It seems to me that you couldn't care less so I'm not going to do it anymore. I see no reason why I've placed such a value on you, but my thoughts have changed now, I've opened my eyes and now I'm through. Lookin' back at my short life, the few pleasures that I've found, all your misconceptions pummel me into the ground. Now, I look at your small life and it doesn't mean a bit. I pick myself up off the ground 'cause I don't give a shit. They say all good things come to an end, I wish this didn't apply. You were once someone I called my friend but that's all now changed and I don't know why. Things are very different now. You've got nothing to say. It's sad when someone you know very well decides to fuckin' die and go away. Lookin' back at my short life, the few pleasures that I've found, all your misconceptions pummel me into the ground. Now, I look at your small life and it doesn't mean a bit. I pick myself up off the ground 'cause I don't give a shit.
Can you believe I was ever in love with this guy??? (And yes, the one on the left that I was in love with IS in fat a guy...at least he WAS and I think he still IS). See...even in my gloom, I have a sense of humor.
2 August 2002---1:47p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: (still playing Dead Kennedys)
Here is some fucking hilarious (Switchblade might even call it "hilararoo") material from the OFFICIAL NINJA WEBPAGE that you can all use to educate yourself on the Ninja, straight from Meg-Dog, the motherfucking Ninja Goddess herself:
NINJA FACTS:
1.Ninjas are mammals.
2.Ninjas fight ALL the time.
3.The purpose of the ninja is to flip out and kill people.
NINJA TESTIMONIAL: Ninjas can kill anyone they want! Ninjas cut off heads ALL the time and don't even think twice about it. These guys are so crazy and awesome that they flip out ALL the time. I heard that there was this ninja who was eating at a diner and when some dude dropped a spoon, the ninja killed the whole town. My friend Mark said that he saw a ninja totally uppercut some kid just because the kid opened a window.
2 August 2002---1:33p MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Dead Kennedys "Plastic Surgery Disasters"
In music news, I just realized, after making my blogging music selection, that I have been spelling the word "surgery" wrong all my life.
In less embarrassing music news, I heard "More Than a Feelin'" by Boston 3 times already today, and had a good laugh when "My Life" by Billy Joel came on as it is one of Brodie's new favorite sing-alongs. I can make up for missing OKGO a few weeks ago because they are coming to the Agora on September 4th with Superdrag (didn't they sing "Caught By the Fuzz"?) and Phantom fucking Planet. Who's with me?
And in final, and most important, music news, tonight is the big bad pirate show and I hope you will all be there to rock out with me (except Switcharoo who is just as sick as me but less of a rocker, contrary to popular belief). I need protection from people who stare too much and those who can't stare because their faces are too squinty.
My hero of the day is Meg-Dog who stopped me from sending an e-mail to my EX that was at least a mile long and, in her words, would do nothing but fuel him. I was informed yesterday that he not only hates me, but never wants to see me again, and hopes that at the end of the night, I am satisfied with myself. I almost let this bother me, but after a dose of good old fashioned compassion and a pep-talk from Meg-Dog, I decided that yes, I am satisfied with myself at the end of the day because I have kick ass friends who know me better than anyone and a pirate who loves me and gives me poseable rubber skeletons. This doesn't mean I'm in a top-notch mood, it just means that after some of her advice and wisdom, Meg-Dog helped me realize that I am a bigger person and will just have to utilize my skills of both ignoring and walking away from those of less maturity. THANK YOU MEG-DOG.
Who wants to pull out my wisdom teeth???
1 August 2002---9:48a MUSIC TO BLOG BY: Lords of the Highway "Haulin' Ass"
Happy August everyone and a big rockin' thank you to Paul Cox for putting my July entries where they belong...in the archive graveyard. I can't believe it's already August (G.G. and I are thinking o having a "Good-Bye Summer/Back-To-School Luau" at the end of the month...hopefully at HER house) as the summer is just flying by, which is A-OK with me because I hate summer and can't wait for hoodies and winter hats, like my favorite winter hat: my Cavs skully that I got when Switchblade and I went to cheer on one of my future husbands, Z. But I digress.
I've had a rocky past couple of days, including a trip to the emergency room to watch my EX have brother inflicted wounds on his arms stitched up by a doctor who also worked on Vanilla Ice. I tried to be my hard-ass self and watch the stitching but this thick layer of yellow fat that was just hanging out forced me to turn my head and be a pansy. I'm guessing my EX is alright and will have use of both of his limbs...I wouldn't know for sure because he kicked me out of the ER and we haven't spoken since. All I know is that he thinks he's going to leave for tour on Sunday and I think that is a ROTTEN idea (stitches pop, you know), but I have no say so...rock on, I guess.
Speaking of rocking, I am REALLY looking forward to tomorrow's trip to El Mantisto to see the pirate band. I want to FSSU with my dudes, especially Switchblade, who has been doing his fair share of rocking since we got back on a regular schedule of hanging out. I must say, and I don't say this a lot, but I've been impressed, and I was even telling his EX yesterday how much of a rocker he's been and how he's my favorite person to FSSU with. She suggested that things like that were part of their problem and eventual demise...not enough in common, different interests, no compromise. And I ask you this: what kind of person doesn't like to FSSU????
However, I am worried that my rock-star capabilities will be limited by the black death I am suffering from (DAMN YOU BRETT). My sore throat tends to go away throughout the day but this cough, MAN, it sucks. I'm really dragging and couple all this with a visit from "My Girl Flo" (which is better than a visit from that stork that brings babies), and you've got one tired and carnky mother over here. This illness kind of wrecked a visit from my Florida dude, Marshall, who appeared in town last night. I wanted to be social and party but I was just so exhausted and figity. I couldn't even make it all the way through "Muppets In Space". But I have faith that tomorrow will heal me...there's something about Tall Boys and the Mantis that can cure my ills.
Props to Brodie who did NOT get fired and didn't even get in trouble for some lame-ass co-workers retarded mishaps. I will salute you at the Mantis tomorrow.
