Wordy McTalkalot

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So yay for me! I wrote over a thousand words in my entry yesterday. I do believe that’s a milestone in this here blog. That may even qualify as a “Journal” entry. Woo.

Last night we went to see the Suicide Girls Live!, and well… it kind of sucked, actually. But all in all I’m glad I went, as the experience in and of itself was fun.

The show was at the Metro, and doors opened at seven, so I didn’t see much point in going home between work and it; it usually takes me an hour to get up to the glorious Village of Skokie, and I had to work until six anyway. So Thursday morning, I did my hair all crazy spikey and put foundation on, and threw a big sweater on over my v. clingy top and went to work carrying a veritable arsenal of makeup in my gas-mask-bag-cum-purse. (It’s great for shows at it straps around one’s waist and has a strap that goes around one leg for added security and I love that about it because I don’t end up with a sore back or shoulders from holding a bag all night… Plus, it’s pretty punk, which was appropriate) So. I worked until six, then tarted myself up with said makeup, stashed the sweater and swung my sexxxy self toward the Metro. I got there just after seven, and met up with B. who had told me about SGL! in the first place. We queued up with the few other people who were already there, had an entertaining conversation about my boobs and boobs in general. Boobs! *ahem*

(side note: I really like the word boobs. Regardless of what it means. It’s just fun to say. Boobs! And you can spell it on a calculator both right side up and upside down, and That. Fucking. Rules. Ooh, did anyone else have one of those TI-whatever graphing calculators in high school? I loved the hell out of mine. I still have it. You could write programs on it! You could program them to remember all sorts of theories and formulae and things that you were supposed to remember on your own for the test but couldn’t because you didn’t really care about math in the first place and they DIDN’T TAKE THEM AWAY FROM YOU! And you could draw on them. It was like a frickin’ Etch-a-Sketch! I can’t tell you how many times I ignored math lessons in favor of making all sorts of bizarre line drawings. School Rulez! I :heart: my TI-82. They came out with a super advanced one, the TI-92. It was really expensive. Even the one that I had, which was v. bottom of the barrel was close to $100, which was ridiculous (I borrowed my graphing calculator from the math and science department of my high school. Permanently.) But the TI-92 was easily $200 then. It had a QWERTY keyboard. It was huge and cool, and I really wanted one. I vaguely recall hearing that they weren’t allowed to be used on the SAT or ACT. I never got one, by the way. I have a Zire71 mobile device now. Fuck QWERTY, man, this thing lets you write write on the frickin’ screen. With a STYLUS! Instead of making retarded line drawings, I draw stick people right on the goddamned screen! With stylus in hand I’m an unstoppable doodling machine, people. And you can download entire fricking books on to it. It’s insane. It came preloaded with Last of the Mohicans. Technology is fucking insane.)

So what the hell was I talking about? Ah yes, boobs. We waited in line for a bit, doors should have opened at seven, but in typical Metro style, they didn’t open until twenty after. (I think one of the bands was late; I saw a couple of guitarandamplifier toting boys go in while we were waiting. Jason showed up shortly thereafter, and then we were ushered inside. It was a 21+ show, so we all had to have our IDs ready and available, and I almost didn’t get let in because, apparently, I don’t resemble my picture. But I still have my dimple damn it, and that’s what got me in. I’ve been meaning to get an IL id for ages… I probably should just go ahead and do it. I think they’re only $12. So we got in and got frisked, woo-hoo. We headed upstairs and managed to snag a table, which was novel. Usually when Scruffy and I go to the Metro we try and stake out a spot up really close to the stage. (which, in retrospect, it’s a good thing we didn’t because of all the chocolate syrup flying around. More on that later) So we all hung out and talked, mostly about Jason’s upcoming UK tour. Every five minutes or so, I would run downstairs to see if Scruffy had shown up yet, and as I was getting up the 15th time, he came walking around the corner to where we were. I’m not entirely sure what happened after that… I think we all just kind of made small talk and hung out and at one point or another we each got up and wandered around a little, leaving the others to watch our stuff.

Now, I wasn’t really sure what to expect with the show. I knew that the Suicide Girls had brought a couple of bands with them, and I was kind of under the impression that the bands would be playing while the girls were dancing (even though I’d read earlier that afternoon that they used canned music. Scotch, though, makes me forget things like that… or my own name. *ahem*) But this was not so. The first band came out and well… no one really paid attention. I don’t even remember what they sounded like… Except for at one point they were openly aping The Afghan Whigs. I don’t know if the whole set sounded that way though, as I wasn’t really paying attention. Nor was the rest of the crowd. At one point the singer thanked “[us] all for showing up and talking.” I can’t really blame him for being annoyed, we (collectivly, as a crowd) were being really rude, but then at the same time, they should have been quite aware of the fact that no one was there to see them. (Or maybe it was just us in Chicago that were rude… who knows?) So they finished and tore down their setup and the second band set up and played, and they were much more entertaining than the first band, sort of Nu-Garagey-punk. Again, though, no one really paid all that much attention. They were much better sports about it than the first band… my guess is that they’d had more experience in playing out than the first band (who looked like high freshmen) and knew how crowds could be. At any rate, they finished, and we moved down to the main floor, in the back and to the left of the stage. Couldn’t see for shit, really… but we were standing with a couple of pretty funny guys, and at that point, I was pretty lit and we were all just being rowdy and loud and so it was fun, just not for the reasons I expected it to be fun. It was clear (by the shouted things I was hearing throughout the Girls’s set) that most of the men expected to see a lot more flesh than what was being offered. ie. Boobs! (see, it’s a theme!) I was pretty much not expecting to see any naked boobies, one because of laws (you can’t sell alcohol and have completely bare assed naked ladies at the same time) and two, because it wasn’t a strip show, it was a burlesque show (supposedly) and they’re two different things.

I guess the whole thing that disappointed me about it was that (from what little I could see, anyway) it didn’t seem like the Girls were having all that much fun up there. Maybe I’m wrong, I couldn’t see that well, one because of all the taller than me people and two, all the cigarette smoke was fucking with my contacts. Maybe they were having a blast… Also, because they used a lot of liquid on stage, I mean for each song they did (“gasoline” during the Reservoir Dogs inspired dance to “Stuck in the Middle with You” and much PBR flying around) between every song, a couple of guys would fly out on stage and mop up the floor with towels and it really messed with the momentum and pacing of the night. I would have to say the only part I really enjoyed (besides the drunken banter with they guys standing by me) was the finale which was performed to “Chocolate Salty Balls.” They basically just gyrated and squirted each other with chocolate syrup and whipped cream in a can and slipped and slid and fell all over each other. It was pretty hysterical. The reason I’m glad we were in the back is because during this routine they kept squirting said chocolate sauce into the audience, and I’d’ve been pretty pissed off if i ended up with trashed clothes. (I don’t know… does chocolate sauce stain?)

After it ended, Scruffy and I went and joined back up with B and Jason (who had gone off to meet up with some other friends who had showed up) and got to meet the owners of the Lakeshore Theatre, and I almost got to meet Toots L’Amour (of Lavender Cabaret fame), but she walked away when I wasn’t looking. Bummer! We left v. shortly after that; S. had worked a ten hour day and was exhausted, and I was ssstaaaaaaarving. And quite drunk. I asked Scruffy if he wanted to stop somewhere and eat on the way home, and he said if we could find some take away he’d be all for it. I agreed and then he said “I know exactly where to go.” I asked where and he told me that I’d see. I though he had taken the el into the city, but he drove, which was super cool. Even cooler was that he found parking that was resonably close to the Metro. So we got in the car in search of food. I had no idea where we were going. We had been driving for a few minutes and there, lo and behold! A White Castle. Scruffy fucking rules, y’all. He took my stupid drunk ass to White Castle. I love him more than you could possibly imagine. We got some burgers, drove home and ate then fell into bed.

Tonight we’re going to see FemmeTV over at the Lakeshore Theatre. This’ll be my second time seeing it, and Scruffy’s first. I’m curious to see how he’ll react.

peace.

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