02.23.06

There's a smug, cat-that-ate-the-canary look on my face today. Last night was great fun; Bad Poetry Night II was well-attended. The Colonial Vipers! (heavy metal hands and screech as you say that, please) were loud, full of heart, and took the piss out of themselves every time they one, two, three, four'd.

Didn't play roadie last night. Though I did help unload at the acme. JR came out to help, but we'd gotten everything.

Inside, we beered and chatted. People showed up and booth musical seats started. Every time someone came in or left, the seating plan changed. The DarkLord appeared in a puff of brimstone and wormed his way to my side. People continued to come and go. Eventually, Stuff was on my other side.

What's amusing is that the DarkLord loves to makes suggestive, uh, suggestions. He all but waggles his eyebrows. It's as if he gets off on the mere hint of naughtiness. But when confronted with reality, he doesn't quite seem to know what to do. It's as if he's all theory, but no practice. Don't get me wrong--I'm at the same place. However, where he's content to circle the edges, I'm willing to explore.

Chris's sister arrived with camera in hand. Lots of flash shots. I still see dots.

The Colonial Vipers! (heavy metal hands and screech) played a full half-hour set. Then the suckage started. Chris read some terrible stuff, then asked for volunteers. Could I contain myself? Could I hang back? No and no. Not Xat.

I read some horrible, horrible things that I found in my journal from my senior year at high school. Horrible. The rocks flew. Yelps of pain blistered the air. I'm surprised no one's liver attempted to strangle his or her brain in a desperate bid for survival. As long as the rocks flew, I could stay on stage.

I read something written for Bad Poetry Night II called Vulva Doom. I'd share it, but I like y'all. It's putrid, pestilential, and bad, bad, bad. Rocks rocketed. People shrieked. Civilizations crumbled.

I continued with selections from a book of teen angst poetry that I'd found. After four poems, I was boo'd off. And I had to tell the audience to do it.

The follies began. Spent a fair amount of time on my hands and knees picking up foam rocks to distribute and throw. JR suggested that the thrill was in metaphorically throwing feces. *?!* He's got a point. I think, also, that the pressure to validate every so-called artist in this town needs to be bled from the pipes. It's a relief to boo and hiss and throw stuff.

Later, I walked Stuff out to his truck. As I left I told Chris I'd be right back. Oh dear. A little snogging and he suggested a little jaunt around the corner. "Oh," I said, "Don't tempt me."

He did.

Mind you, he's got to get up at stupid:o'clock for work. I'd arranged for Thursday off--because I knew it was going to be an ugly, ugly, fabulous night.

The quest began with a bad location choice. It was recognized before we, uhm, started. I suggested further back in the warehouse area. It worked.

We wrangled with stick shifts and soft drink bottles and other vehicular detritus. We fogged the windows. We rocked the truck--ain't nothing like the sound of leaf springs creaking. Oooo, handles; how handy.

Later, the windshield took ten minutes to clear with the de-fogger blowing. Stuff drove me back to the acme. As we drove up, I saw JR's car with its lights on. And the bar was closed.

Ohhhhh dear. We'd been gone for about an hour and a half. Oops.

Time to ball it out. Stuff stopped next to Tora Toraku, and I climbed out sans coat. (As an aside, the super short hair is great. All I've got to worry about is getting the clothing together.) JR's passenger door opened. Chris leaned out and said, "You said you were going to be right back."
"I lied."
"You won." What could I do but throw my hands in the air?

Yep. I AM the Empress of Suck. Today I get to see who has my books. Maybe I'll pick up my prize.

I can't imagine the comments as my first-among-equals-at-suckiness status was announced. There will be raft loads of shit given. The only thing worse (funnier?) is that I know Stuff'll be getting even more.

*snort*

Today is a quiet day. Now go. Be fabulous.

I already am.

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