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Ben's Zen Section
Well, we got into our new place with as little casualties as possible. it's allllllllll good now... for the most part. All of the problems that I was having in the sublet are over, and we're all a happy bunch of people that aren't getting laid except for one. No, I'm not the one.... dammit.
At any rate, sooner or later, I'll get to writing a rant about being unemployed, leaks, hiding from roommates, and all of that sort of thing. Also, I'm gonna write one about where I currently work, Hot Tamales. It's a horror story in and of itself. Gross unprofessionalism, cut corners, and tricks against the IRS abound. I have to admit, I'm thankful that these folks are giving me money, but I really wanna get the hell out of dodge before this gets any hairier. |
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Nevertheless, I went to see Mindless Self Indulgence with Stefanie and one of her friends, Pat, on Saturday. We waited for like... three hours for the show to start, while some rather... uninteresting goth music played, and a bunch of idiots with claws were given free reign over a camera and stuck onto the screen before us. We had decided that around midnight, if the band didn't show up amidst all of this crap, we were gonna split, but lo and behold, some silly bastard came out and did the whole audience pumping bit. Okay, yeah, whatever. Well... then Lindsay (sp), their new bassist walked onto the stage. All of the guys and half of the girls were just like... "Yowza." She, the drummer chick, and the lead guitarist got to starting up to this wicked hard tune, and then the lead singer hops up with a bag of chips, saying "All the bitches love me cuz I got chips." Potato bits evvvvvverywhere. Well, as with most shows of this high energy, the audience swelled forward, and the barrier fell into the monitors, so all of the club's security had to rush up to secure them and keep kids from suffocating. I was Left side front during all of this (this is a wicked tiny place, so it's not like I was miles away from the action), and I get bumped off to the side and into a speaker tower, which proceeds to wobble. Instead of squirming through the crowd in hopes of meeting up with a girl drunk enough to maybe want my phone number or a brisk screwing, I had a sworn duty during that show: Keep the speaker tower from falling on the attractive girls behind me in hopes that they will show their gratitude in a carnal fashion. That came to no avail, but Pat managed to toss his hat down Jimmy's pants, which counts for something. Those two were Front and center for that, and Pat got smacked with a loogie from the lead singer. In all, I have to say that they were one of those few sorts of bands that I liked more after seeing them live. Chris would probably hate them, but I'm a fan now, if not a fan of Lindsay (sp). |
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