Andare, Partire, Tornare
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Ooh, Scary!
Seen at the Halloween party at the State Theater: A Disco Ball Head Man, A giant Q-tip, Mario and Luigi, two other Medusas, one in my costume, several more belly dancers like Cherbear, a group of Hooters Girls, a guy dressed like Princess Leia, accompanied by a girl dressed like Luke Skywalker, many, many, many pimps and their hookers, and assorted other freaks and geeks.
Bemo, due to the assorted travails of the day (the truck will need to go into the shop for about three hundred bucks of repairs to the rear break cylinder), stayed home to sleep, so it was just me and Cher. We had a good time, although the bands were kind of disappointing - the first one, covering the seventies, was good - but dancing to Molly Hatchet wasn't exactly in my game plan. The second band, devoted to the eighties, was just horrible. We're talking simultaneous sucking and blowing, especially since the lead singer fancied herself to be Shirley Manson from Garbage, which doesn't lend itself to eighties music. We had hoped that Gonzo's Nose would cover that part of the decade cover-a-thon, but no such luck. Cher and I actually ducked out of the club at this point, and hiked over to the nearby Applebees to eat avocado spinach dip with chips in full costumed splendor, much to the amusement of the bar patrons (one of whom said, "Bye, snake lady" as we left.)
The group covering the nineties was quite decent, and they did a fairly good version of Rage against the Machine's "Killing in the Name Of," but it had nothing on either the orignial, or on Katsu, who used to always finish their set with it. And, again, I wasn't really interested in pogo'ing to the gangsta rap and Alice in Chains stuff they were covering. They left Gonzo's Nose to cover the present day, and, y'know, they're pretty good, but their eighties stuff seems to be their strongest, and we were just tired at this point, so we headed home about halfway into their set. Ah, well.
Had my first shortened shift at the 'Mart, which was much more managable. I'm not nearly as worn out.
Project for tomorrow, before I go back into work - cleaning out the Bonnie. That poor car is about to collapse under the weight of accumulated crap collected in the passenger and rear seats.
Oh, and shamelessly stolen from Weetabix: go see how your eighties lyrical knowledge holds up.
11:38 p.m. - 2003-11-01
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