I am blessed. It must be all the good karma. This weekend Ludicra played. I have a truck, no tarp, but when I asked the rain to stop, it did… just long enough to get equipment to the show and to take it home. The show was fun, lots of good friends, new and some very, very old. Other than Aesop’s many technical mishaps with his aging snare, the show went well.
There was a couple of moshers, which I am finding out are not appreciated at the typical Ludicra show. People would rather stand and take it in. So, note to moshers… come and mosh at the Impaled show where it’s all good. Go to the Ludicra show when you want to stare at your shoes or Laurie cradling her mic like a baby. That’s so twisted…
I managed to get 7 safety pins in my arm by myself. No one noticed, but it felt good anyway.
I liked the one girl dancing like a lunatic on my side of the stage. That was entertaining as all hell.
Month: February 2005
Gwar
I went to Santa Cruz to see Gwar again. Having seen Gwar at their lowest point, it was a pleasure to see a sold out show with hundreds of screaming maniaxe blowing their lids for one of my favorite bands. I thought I would play it cool again and just kick back and watch the show. About three notes in, this notion was put to rest as I tore through the crowd lusting for fake blood and bad jokes. Several times, I hanged 10 over the teeming masses and was carried aloft upon waves of hands. Fake blood spurted over my accroutements until I tore them off and devolved into some sort of cro-magnon blood hound screaming and grunting for more. Unencumbered by shame or by duty or by obligation, I beat upon my bare chest and chanted with my fellow Gwar-lunatics as we banged our heads and pumped our fists. It was the best show I’ve seen in years.
Speaking of shows… Ludicra show coming up: Saturday, Feb. 19 Ludicra Enablers Ovarian Trolley Psychlone Warehouse 3rd @ Marin San Francisco Don’t worry. I will have my chest covered at this show. I would hate to detract from my fellow Ludicrans by creating a horny hysteria and causing the audience to either be overcome with the vapors or to surge the stage for a touch.
Queen for a night
Who’s the hottest punk rock / metal head in drag? Me. Damn straight. Last night at the Jesus Fucking Christ / Death By Excess show and Pyrate Punx barbecue, the Pyrate wenches hosted a drag contest. Yes, I showed up in a dress, heels, make-up… God damned that stuff is hard to walk in. I also got a dollar off my admission, so this whole drag contest really appealed to my Jewish side. Right, so the other dude’s in drag… no competition. Except, surprisingly, Snake. He shaved his sleazy goatee even. Damn. And then outside he was smoking with a very limp wrist. Hilarious. So three of us competed, and those damn wenches made us dance. Keep in mind, I am wearing heels. No one else wore heels. Fucking hell… I did my best. And by audience applause, I was declared Queen and honorary wench. Just don’t look under the dress, right? I did my best impression of a Miss America winner crying and hugging everyone… My trophy is something else. After that, Anne and Greg took my drunk ass to Biggum’s. Like a good drag queen / Biggum’s customer, I did a little toot. I then proceeded to dance with I don’t even know who… chicks dig a boy in make-up, I guess. What did I learn from this whole experience? I learned I would be a very bitchy, high maintenance chick. Thanks to my female benefactors for all the help. Let’s not do this again real soon. Coke hangovers suck.