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.

to all the people…

To all the people at the Gates: Thanks for the beer and pizza. Sorry about being bad luck. Sorry about how my balls drop 3 feet and my machismo goes into overdrive when I get around a bunch of Dommes. I’m like a feminist for men… 


To all the people at the 40th St. Warehouse Eviction Party: You all dance to sped up country music disguised as punk rock. But at least you know how to have a good time and dance like idjits. To the guy in the tutu… nuh uh. To the woman asking Krystal to move… go fuck yerself. To the woman asking for too many cigarettes… it was fun making you uncomfortable. To Matt… God dammit! I couldn’t find you to get the new Mass CDr you promised and I’m bummed.


To the people at the Rats Fight Party: Let’s see, I vaguely remember running into Dolores, Joannowar, John, Taija, Rooster, Julie, Crystal, and Justin. I kinda remember drinking too much. I kinda think I probably was really really drunk. I’m just SURE I was charming! Thanks to Georgina for watching me puke and not letting me drive. Semen-puke dred. Bleah. Sorry to John for ditching you, but at least you got a slurry phone message where your car was. 


To all the people at the Scum Angel show: HPG was in the fucking hiz-house! RESPECT!!! That was an awesome surprise to see Aime’e, the Queen of smiles herself, and the other folks there. Come to think of it, Wasted crew was there, too, and guess what? They were wasted. Scum Angel and Jesus Fucking Christ were pretty good, too, definitely getting some solid shit together, the both of them. To Brian… you didn’t really sign a 9×12 photo saying “Thanks for the Hardest Lovin” for me… I was just joking. I know it seemed plausible…

Irony and nostalgia

So in California, there was this train wreck that killed 11 people. It was caused by a suicidal guy who changed his mind, but couldn’t get his car off the tracks. Now, they’re charging him with murder and seeking the death penalty. Irony? A culture of life? A fucked up Tales From the Crypt story? Or just god damned hilarious? I went and saw a reformed Cruevo last night along with Blown to Bits and Old Grandad. So many old friends, had a great time… man that sent me back in time. It was like I was 26 again! Granted… that was just a three years ago… Fuck you. Don’t fuck with my nostalgia. Some girl was getting fucked with by this twerp, and she kept pushing him away. I asked her, “Is that your friend?” And she said yeah… but added “That was nice of you to ask.” This keeps happening. Girls keep weird friends these days. And by weird I mean stupid. Gud speling is untervalud thes dayz. Peeple shud uze spelchek mor. Thatz whut it is fur.

MANJA, MANJA!

Eat drink and be merry! The new day is upon us! Three weeks into this year, and one out of one crazy doctors agree… it’s sure to kick ass. Smiles, my children, as the glorious rays of sunshine beam down onto your glowing faces… unless you’re in New York in which case they sunshine might be good for thawing you out. But praise be to ME! Lo and behold, the only Democrat with balls is a woman! Thus a miracle was made… and a crush for yours truly to replace with the one on Martha Stewart. And lo, did a crazy German make us drink Pabst until our eyes did run with the Blue Ribbon ale of punk-rockitude! Eddie… Bush still sucks. And even in the land of sunshine, the snow drifts blow, and blow, and blow into everyone who’s heart aches and fills them with the spirit of Robert Downey, Jr. And behold, as money owed is paid and our coffers fill with heavenly lucre to buy more beer and cigarettes. And this Wednesday, the Bass Players That Matter numbers grow as our prodigal brother doth return to the stage. PRAISE BE TO THE FOUR STRINGS THAT DREW BLOOD! Praise be to my mirror soul! Praise be to my family! Praise be to my friends, even the cracked in the head ones! Praised be to my loved ones… and praise be to me! That didn’t make much sense. Actually, I meant to type a big long political diatribe… but my fingers slipped.

Body Worlds!

Fucking awesome! This exhibit kicks ass. I finally was able to go and see it with friends, and we were all amazed. The muscles, the ligaments, the DEAD FUCKING BABIES IN JARS. I was in hog heaven. If you don’t go see it, you’re a big puss. People are dumb and thought it was fake. FOOLS!!! Gunther Von Haagen is a ghoul, and god bless him for it. 


My trip to LA was pretty rad… good times, good people, good friends. Joey and Jeff put up with our asses and housed us. Some LA friends came to the show… Vile, ya sicko, and my little treasure Janis. I was looking everywhere for her all night once I heard she’d come, and eventually found her right before we were leaving. They wouldn’t let her in the club, because she was too drunk, haha! I held her until she stopped crying, and then were able to hang outside for a long while and catch up. Got her some water so she could sober up, and eventually found some other friends of hers to sneak her back in so she could hang out. Hmmm… she probably got drunk again! 


Fucking cool to meet our label folks, too… none of them knew who the hell we were when we stopped by the office, but they seemed cool as hell after we played. It’s rad playing and kids sing along and know the words. Fuck, we don’t, so it’s actually helpful. Oh, and I drew a pink zombie with a heart for Century Media. I hope they appreciate my sweetness! I drove back the whole way from LA and am at work now… I’ve been such a puss about driving for awhile now with Impaled and Ludicra trips. I’ve been so damn exhausted! I seem to be getting my game back. Niiiiiiice…