during the introductory waiting period of the night, darren and i consumed drinks as he told me about hall&oates and i spilled my new-found woes onto him.
the opening band consisted of four members appearing to be of such delicate age it was endearing. they were from philadelphia and happy to plug their inclusion on a compilation cd available at our nearest Urban Outfitters. the guitarist on the left sported a wavy chili bowl haircut that reminded me of a friend from high school. it was so authentically 80's that it crossed the line from "modern day hipster retro 80's hair" to "just 80's hair". the guitarist on the left was the most fresh-faced of the bunch and frequently resembled a fish delicately gulping for air as his face struggled to sprout its first downy hairs of manhood. in a couple of months, once he's old enough, i'm hoping his parents will let me babysit him. i'll gleefully feed him pringles, grape-flavored pop rocks, and pepsi until his stomach is ready to burst.
even though he was feeling under the weather, the killers frontman still donned his track jacket and eyeliner and took the stage.
as is usual, i managed to not pay attention to about half the show as a result of patrons in my immediate vicinity. the visuals were interrupted by a string of football players who had stopped in front of me and darren.
but what i found really upsetting was the male in the horizontally-striped tee to my left who enjoyed bumping into me every time he turned or lifted his beer for a drink... which was ALL THE TIME. my hateful stares did nothing to slow his behavior down. and he was obviously a terrorist because he wasn't speaking english and he was hell-bent on humping my elbow with the firm blubber of his protruding belly and it wasn't even in rhythm with the music. unless, of course, the music he was hearing was being played by a hyperactive jack rabbit. besides, who has any need for placing his armpit above my head and taking photos every 20 seconds of the exact same thing but a terrorist in need of floorplans?
gypsy ballroom: night 2, skinny puppy
i tried, in vain, to locate a pair of fishnets after arriving home from work wednesday evening. they were a requirement if i was to wear the platform boots which would give me a "leg up" and relieve me from battling more crowds of tall people. disappointed and sapped of all fashion energy, i donned the smoky, stinky clothing i had worn the night before and headed out with nakedjew.
the opener was "interesting" to say the least. we moved off to the side in an attempt to save a portion of our eardrums and each time we glanced up, there was a new spectacle to behold. i found myself wondering how this individual had secured such a prominent gig as his shirt came off and the literal "breast plate" came on. then there was the giant, red velvet crown topping his head which continued to pour out an endless stream of distorted and deafening vocals. i asked NJ if he believed this person had any friends and if so, were they present and acknowledging of their friendship to those around them? were they pounding their heads along to the "music"? in a nutshell, here is my evaluation of him as a person: a man in his 30's who still lives in his parents' basement imbibing in the creation of electronica that might have been perceived as "cool" if he were still 17 and the year was 1986, but has not yet managed to just let it go.
though i had difficulty seeing as much as i would've liked, it was apparent that skinny puppy still has just as much energy and gusto as ever. with the body of a 20-something year old, ogre started out his performance in a bird-of-the-holocaust-like get-up. once that was shed, he aimed a stream blood into the crowd from a gas pump and evaded a beheading from a terrorist-turned-george-bush. the screen behind at the back of the stage showed computer animated sequences of futuristic bio-mechanical units performing suggestively-sexual actions including repeated puckered bio-mechanical anal intrusions. needless to say, toward the end of the show ogre was a mess. after squeezing handful after handful of blood down on himself (likely from meaty organs of some sort), i looked up to see he had covered himself in what i can only hope was mud. i felt a twang of sorrow for the ballroom employees.
as i had predicted, i recognized very little from the songs performed. i hadn't listened to much skinny puppy after too dark park. however, they were giving enough to close with smothered hope and that made me happy enough.
though several people i know were supposed to be there, NJ and i had been able to find any of them. i did confirm the very tall girl with the cigarette 10 yards away was my co-worker jamie and as i was attempting to escape the post-show madness, salty_c_dog snagged my attention as he was waiting for vishvakarman to close out his shockingly enourmous tab at the bar. there wasn't much time for meaningful conversation as NJ and i were already engaged in being highly retarded with one another and it was strictly a two person game.
i'm sad and disappointed to report that, as a result of far too many coincidental activities, i managed to miss the entire deep ellum film festival this year. i had scheduled myself to catch one of the very last showings (eulogy), but due to a lack of interest from everyone i know and my inability to stay awake at that point, i decided it would be more prudent to spend that $10 on coconut curry tofu and nap on the couch instead.