Category Archives: Music

Mosh Pits And Incontinence – Recapturing Youth

Mosh Pits And Incontinence – Recapturing Youth
Step off, bitches!

Step off, bitches!

I’ve been fortunate to have accidentally lived in certain cities during their heydays. In the 1980’s I was in Silicon Valley and San Francisco for the high tech and new wave music boom. 1990’s it was Seattle for Microsoft and the grunge movement.

I’m not sure exactly which city best represents the 2000’s but for me it was split between Portland (before Portlandia existed) and Santa Barbara.

Not sure there is much to say about Santa Barbara…..Michael Jackson’s pedophile case was tried here. Does that count for anything?

As I’ve gotten older and my kids are no longer the parasites they once were, I’ve been trying to recapture a little of the person I was before I turned into the life-giving drone I became.

So, when one of my dearest and oldest friends mentioned that The Specials were on their reunion tour and playing in San Francisco, I immediately committed to getting my saggy ass back up to The City by The Bay to do some serious recapturing.

Let me start by telling you that I have always FREAKING LOVED THE SPECIALS! I believe they are one of the best but shortest-lived bands ever. I am a closet ska girl. I made the DJ at my wedding reception play all their songs, even though there were only a few of us who would get out there and skank (ska dancing for the unenlightened).

One of the steps in recapturing my inner rude girl is going to a concert that is general admittance where one must stand pressed inappropriately against strangers.  In recent years I’ve gone more the barc-o-lounger route, because I say shit like “Oy, my aching back!” or “Is it loud or is it me?” and “What the hell is that smell?”

But see, with a Ska band, you CAN NOT sit down. It is physically impossible not to dance.

This is a scientific fact. Go look it up.

The next step is remembering all the important concert rules. First and foremost of said rules is that one must never “break the seal.” Meaning, hold your pee because once you go the first time, you will have to go constantly through the concert and no one wants to have to go to a bathroom in a venue that would have any band you’d want to see. So, if you hold it until that initial need passes, you can hold it for the duration.

This is yet another scientific fact. See, I entertain AND educate.

Or, at least that’s what used to work when I was in my 20’s and had not yet had children. Suffice it to say that there is really no “seal” to speak of after that.

But, pissing oneself aside, this was one of the most fun nights I’d had in years. It was easy to get right back to that place of feeling so much joy in music that you love while being surrounded by friends that you love.

Plus, I have come up with a new product idea. Concert diapers for the post-30’s crowd. You can buy them next to the t-shirts in the lobby with the band logo on them. Let’s face it, most of the bands could use these too.

Introducing
Piss Off! Concert Nappies ™

 “Not Your Grandma’s Diapers.” ™

Rude Girl is back.

The Golden Globes – My Lady Parts Are All Tingly

The Golden Globes – My Lady Parts Are All Tingly
Darcy St. Fudge and Damian Francisco of "Dog President"

Darcy St. Fudge and Damian Francisco of “Dog President”

I know there is a glut of Golden Globes commentary floating about the web-o-sphere. I also know that I couldn’t pass any opportunity to barf out my opinion if I tried.

I had a lady boner all night for Tina Fey and Amy Poehler.

(I will give credit where it is due right now – I got the term “lady boner” from the fabulous Jen at http://jeneralinsanity.com. I want it put on my gravestone when I die.)

I believe they are two of the funniest most talented women who ever walked on this crazy blue marble we call earth.

I am in awe of how many amazingly funny women we get to watch these days. Add in Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Zoe Deschanel, Leslie Mann, Rebel Wilson, Lucy Punch….I could go on and on, which makes me…well, get a lady boner all over again! Happy day!

Though, some observations did tend to kill my lady buzz, one of which was Mel Gibson. He appeared to either be highly medicated or just stricken. I believe he was paralyzed with fear being surrounded by a room full of Jews, women, African Americans, and any other group he has abused in the past.

Mel Gibson

There’s one behind me right now, isn’t there? Right…behind….me…..

Along with Mel, I’m going to give another thumbs down to Robert Downey Jr. As talented as he may be, he acts like such a giant self-obsessed tool that I can’t bear to watch him.

Which brings me to our friend Jodie Foster, who, in addition to choosing some odd friends, gave one of the most rambling WTF speeches since Mariah Carey at the Palm Springs Film Festival.

My two main thoughts around this are as follows:

Jodie, it is no longer 1985. You seem to think that any of us are sitting around our groovy condos wildly speculating about your personal life while drinking our micro-brews and wearing our hipster knitted caps. Unless we do it ironically, which is highly possible.

We knew you were gay when you were 10. So, either there is a parallel world were tabloids still care about this or maybe Ms. Foster is under the misguided impression that her sexual orientation is more interesting than Lindsay Lohan’s most recent arrest or the sex (and species) of the Kanye West/Kim Kardashian offspring.

BUT, my polar opposite second thought was that the piece about her mother was so beautifully delivered, so graceful and authentic, it made me cry.  Thanks for the emotional rollercosater J-Fost! Like I need more of those in my life.

Then there was Arnold and Sly. Wow. If someone made candles in the likeness of each of them, then burned it for 30 minutes or so, they would be the actual live them. I think their wicks were hidden under their toupees along with their little horns.

Then, just when I thought my buzz was forever rendered useless and sad, along came Will Farrell and Kristen Wiig. They did a take on Garth and Kat from SNL that was crazy funny! If the space-time continuum didn’t exist, I would want to be their love-child

I thought Sacha Baron Cohen’s sarcastic slam on Russell Crow in Le Miserable was pure brilliance: “Russell Crowe had three months of voice training. Money well-spent!”

If I could just….remove this sword from my thigh…I will plunge it into the chest of my agent.

If I could just….remove this sword from my thigh…I will plunge it into the chest of my agent.

And, as much as I want Danel Day-Lewis to be some sort of a freaky asshole, he just isn’t. He’s an eloquent and humble bastard, damn it!

Though, he has to be a challenge to live with what with all the Method acting. Imagine asking Lincoln to take the garbage out or have Bill the Butcher from Gangs of New York mow the lawn.

Is that a gopher hole I see? I will defeat my enemies! Vengeance shall be mine you son of a whore!

Is that a gopher hole I see? I will defeat my enemies! Vengeance shall be mine you son of a whore!

I’m just saying that Mrs. Day-Lewis is a hell of a trooper.

There were many more noteworthy tidbits from the night but I don’t think any of us need me to ramble on and on. We had enough of that on Sunday.

(Though, Leah Michelle needs a spray-tan intervention, Lena Dunham needs to throw a couple of Dr. Scholls inserts into her shoes, Jennifer Lawrence was a little bit of a shit about Meryl but I love her anyway, and Anne Hathaway, can we all just agree to not say “blerg” anymore?)

Suffice it to say that I’m more than ready for the Oscars.

Seth McFarlane, do us all a solid and slip Ben Affleck in for Best Director, will ya? It’s the stand-up thing to do.

I Am An Oscar Whore

I Am An Oscar Whore

You see, I am a whore for the Oscars. I am. And, yes, I feel a level of shame in this fact. I’m not necessarily a beautiful, shorn, singing, consumptive whore like Anne Hathaway in Les Miserables. But a whore none the less.

image2

Wow, my life sucks.

I know, it’s all fixed, political, not about art, blah blah blah. I get that but, not unlike Lucha Libre and my body fat percentage, I choose to ignore the truth.

Chicken man is totally going to take down Skeleton guy.

Chicken man is totally going to take down Skeleton guy.

I won’t claim to be above loving all the pretty stars, their designer gowns or all the pomp and circumstance. I do love me a red carpet.

But beyond that, it’s one of the rare times that the dirty, crazed, slovenly writers finally get a little love and attention.

Ever since Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, a couple of unknown upstarts, won for Best Original Screenplay for Good Will Hunting, I’ve gotten very choked up when the writers have their moment.

A really smart screenplay with awesome dialog makes me weep. So, either I’m hormonally unbalanced or there aren’t nearly enough good screenplays. My suspicion is it’s both.

As for the actual viewing of the awards ceremony, I’m an Oscar Nazi. I’m not necessarily a steely-eyed, milk-drinking, psychopath like Christoph Waltz in Inglourious Basterds (yes, that’s spelled right). But a Nazi none the less.

Now, vat did vee say about noise? You disappoint me.

Now, vat did vee say about noise? You disappoint me.

I will abide NO chatting, visiting, commenting or mumbling during the actual show. Any Chatty Cathy’s will be throat punched. And, I don’t give a shit if it’s during the best Lithuanian Foley Artist acceptance speech. This is a fucking huge night for Jurgi and by God, let the man have his moment in the sun!

I haven’t seen everything yet but plan on it before the Big Show. In the meantime, here are some of my impressions thus far.

And, don’t worry, I WILL NEVER BE A SPOILER! If I lack integrity everywhere else in my life, I solidly maintain it in this one thing.

Les Miserables  If Anne Hathaway doesn’t reduce you to a quivering jellyfish of tears, you sir, are made of stone and I wash my hands of you! However, a word of warning – they actually SING everything in this movie. Just be prepared. And, if you are even partially  human, bring a gross ton of tissue to sop up your eye juice because you will be dehydrated by the time this thing is done.

I will ask though, what the hell were they thinking with Russell Crow? He was clearly as uncomfortable in that movie as a nun with an STD.

Argo  A friend of mine put it perfectly – “It’s like Jaws without sharks.” It’s true, the tension is stroke-inducing before the opening credits have even begun.

Wonderful to see Ben Affleck getting his shit together post Gigli. It was an awesome movie – loved it!

While it did get a best picture nod, I’m annoyed Ben was passed up for Best Director. But, again, I will turn a blind eye to this slight and be dazzled by whatever Halle Berry is wearing.

Silver Lining Playbook   Great movie. Finally seeing Robert De Niro act again instead of phoning in crap like Meet The Fockers was refreshing. He plays OCD lunatic with a heart like no one ever could.

He’s married to a perfectly quivery and uncomfortable Jacki Weaver.

Bradley Cooper is awesome but looks like he smells like wet feet.

And Katniss Everdeen is even more sulky than during the reaping.

Lincoln  Oh, Danny Day, what planet are you from? The planet of insanely good actors who are probably impossible to deal with in real life? Mr. Method nails everything he does but can you imagine being married to him and asking Mr. Lincoln to take the garbage out or burn a damned match in here when you’re done?

I bet a dead Civil War-era president can really stink up a bathroom.

Life of Pi  Light up a spliff and see this thing with a gallon of popcorn. It’s the prettiest damned movie I’ve seen. And, if you see it in 3-D I think you may see God.

Beasts of the Southern Wild   The little girl in this movie, Quvenzhané Wallis, cannot be for real.  She acted the crap out of everyone on the Best Actress list. And she’s like 5!! And this is her first real movie role!

My kids are double that age and can barely function like a human so I choose to believe she is a 30-year-old midget and my parenting skills go unchallenged.

So, to wrap this thing up, I am a hormonal Nazi whore who has a fondness for good writing. Sounds like the start of a fantastic screenplay!

Yes, Another Annoying Best of 2012 List

Yes, Another Annoying Best of 2012 List

imageI know there are easily a gazillion best-of lists out there so I totally forgive you if you are getting to the point where you can’t take one more. But, as you know, your comfort has never been my paramount concern so…..and, I’m just a huge, lazy ass.

One of my favorite things from 2012 was the realization that there are a million exceptionally non-famous funny people in the world. Many of these lunatics are just as funny as the most famous comedians out there. It’s really the number one thing that keeps me somewhat hopeful for our species.

So, without further ado, I present some things that made me happy this year.

Noo Yorque Times Top 5 Left of Plumb Posts (because I am learning about shameless self-promotion)

Hobo With An Attitude

Scenes From a Coffice

Dear God; RE: Anne Hathaway

I Was Plucked By The Original Jersey Girl

Glitterati In The Mist

My Favorite Pop Culture Travesties

50 Shades of Gray – The revelation that middle-aged women are horny nymphomaniacs changed the way I look at all middle-aged women.

Magic Mike – See above entry….forgive the pun.

Liz and Dick – In the ongoing train wreck that is La Lohan, we got to watch her barreling toward the brick wall for a full 2 hours.

Hulk Hogan – Ish. I never did get around to doing a post about this one….I think I’m still throwing up in my mouth when I think of it.

Hunger Games – Hatefully addictive. My personal skeleton in my closet of shame.

My Online Humor Discoveries

KidFreeLiving – Amy VanSant is so freakin’ funny it completely pisses me off!

TheBloggess – Has anyone on the planet NOT read and fallen in love with Jenny Lawson? She is the sassy matriarch of blogging!

Bad Lip Reading – I weep uncontrollably with laughter at every one of these and check the site like a rabid stalker to see what new videos they have posted.

Twitter, in general

I really really really really hate to admit this but have been exceptionally entertained by Twitter. Before this year, I looked upon it with scorn and malice as a place for whiney, needy people to talk about the consistency of their morning constitutions. I now see that, if you follow the right people, it is HILARIOUS.

My Favorite Tweeters (though the list could be pages long….)

God @tweetofgod

Amy Vansant ‏‪@KidFreeLiving‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Jim Gaffigan ‏‪@JimGaffigan‬

Kevin Seccia ‏‪@kevinseccia‬

Dave Hill ‏‪@mrdavehill

Best Political Tweets

What a sad day for legitimate and illegitimate rapists. ~Matt Roller ‏‪@rolldiggity‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

If you have never had the misfortune to be raped, fight the urge to put on a suit and talk expansively about its’ meaning. ~Uncle Dynamite ‏‪@UncleDynamite‬‬‬‬‬‬

Enjoy your gay marryjuana, Seattle! ~God @tweetofgod

IT IS NO LONGER A PROJECTION. IT IS OFFICIAL: I’m kind of a fan of Sea Breeze cocktails! ~Ted Travelstead ‏‪@trumpetcake‬

Has Michelle won First Lady yet? ‘Cause if SHE loses…. Awkward. ~ Dana Gould @DanaJGould

Why is the same show on EVERY CHANNEL? ~ Mike Birbiglia ‏‪@birbigs‬

THE RESULTS ARE IN IN OHIO: my step-cousin Jaden is OFFICIALLY the new day-shift manager of the Hardee’s on Coleman Road. ~ Ted Travelstead ‏‪@trumpetcake‬

Sleep tight, America, and know that – no matter who you voted for – tomorrow we will wake up united in our hatred of wobbly tables. ~ The Bloggess @thebloggess

There are more of these, that I love, here: My Election Hangover

Tweets That Made Me Wet Myself

Who wants to see my wiener? Shit. How do I delete on this thing? ~ Dave Hill ‏‪@mrdavehill‬‬

Jedediah leaned upon his rake and said to Isaac, “Thy wife makes a goodly pie.” “I thank thee,” said Isaac. “Most humbly.” ‪#AmishErotica‬‬‬‬‬‬‬ ~ Uncle Dynamite ‏‪@UncleDynamite‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

I just tripped, fell and then farted while walking up an escalator and now I have the ability to move objects with my mind. ~ Jerm Himselfish ‏‪@JermHimselfish‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

If I had a dollar for every time my dad questioned my sexuality I could afford a bad ass Harley and probably some super cute riding boots. ~ Jeffrey Hadz ‏‪@Hadzilla‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

The thesaurus on Microsoft Word is not very… how do I put this… “good” ~ B.J. Novak ‏‪@bjnovak‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Are humans the only mammals that blow each other? I’m asking for a friend. ~Dana Gould ‏‪@DanaJGould‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

HOLY SHIT. Is there a sign on my office door that says ‘C’mon in and fart the place up?’ ~Evan ‏‪@evanrhorne‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Whenever someone invites me to go golfing I always think, “Wow, this person knows absolutely nothing about me.” ~Jim Gaffigan ‏‪@JimGaffigan‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

The downside of having a bad memory is occasionally forgetting and then remembering the existence of Mr. Holland’s Opus. ~Kevin Seccia ‏‪@kevinseccia‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

“Maybe we can sell more clams if we put them in a liquid that looks like vomit?” – Inventor of clam chowder. ~Jim Gaffigan ‏‪@JimGaffigan‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Realized I was still chewing a piece of bacon as I sat on the toilet, hence discovering the elusive EIGHTH Habit of Highly Effective People. ~Amy Vansant ‏‪@KidFreeLiving‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Got my wig caught in my braces again. ~Ted Travelstead ‏‪@trumpetcake‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

If I’m ever on life support unplug me,, and then plug me back in again,, and see if that works… ~Gordon McCleary ‏‪@ASouthernYankee‬‬‬‬‬‬

Our son HATES the rectal thermometer. Ugh, teenagers! ~rob delaney ‏‪@robdelaney‬‬‬‬‬

The worst part about being omniscient is that I can never not know what Newt Gingrich looks like naked. ~God ‏‪@TheTweetOfGod‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

In closing, if I can continue to find even more to laugh about in 2013, I think I just may survive! And, here are some pictures to leave you with that just simply made me smile cuz’ they are kinda weird.

dancing sheep

Look at me! I’m one sassy ewe, girlfriend!

You do know I'll kill you in your sleep for doing this to me....right after I eat these Cheetos.

You do know I’ll kill you in your sleep….right after I eat these here Cheetos.

I’ve gotta feeling…..that tonight’s gonna be a good night…..

 

Celebrity Vomiting: Bad Food Choice Or An Evil Plan For World Domination?

Celebrity Vomiting: Bad Food Choice Or An Evil Plan For World Domination?

None of you can possibly think that I could pass up the opportunity to comment on the rash of celebrity vomiting we’ve seen in the past two weeks. It would be no more possible for me to stop the flow of snark than it would be for them to stop the flow of spaghetti and milk they had before going on stage.

I’m sure Bieber and Gag (sorry, forgot that second “a”….what was I thinking?) are not the first to toss their cookies in public. Hell, a lot of them throw up while laying down and end up dying so….just putting a positive spin on the whole thing.

I have a few theories about what’s going on with all this spewing.

It’s highly possible that retching is the new re-hab. I’m really hoping this is not going to catch on as some sort of publicity stunt like anger management or anti-Semitism. I’m waiting for the moment Mel Gibson pukes all over a CHP officer. Though, I highly suspect that may have already happened at some point.

I have a fairly healthy case of Emetophobia, which is a fear of vomiting…which I just looked up because I literally have information at my fingertips, thank you Bill Gates and the Google Guys! But, doesn’t EVERYONE on the planet “suffer” from this perfectly reasonable disorder?  I don’t get why we need an actual word for it.

If you don’t suffer from Emetophobia then we have a whole other blog topic right there.

I just pray we don’t get inundated with reality shows like “Celebrity Horking” or “Hollywood Vomitorium”. Cuz’ that would just be wrong….yet possibly profitable.

(Dear TLC, call me.)

I also think it could be a new terrorist strategy. Forget the Zombie Apocalypse because this is WAY more frightening than slow-moving brain-eaters. It’s a sadistically brilliant plan. They are making a mockery of our cultural icons which in turn will break down our entire social structure. I’m not sure how this all links up because I am not a brilliant terrorist mastermind. But I trust they have a good plan.

I believed their first test run of this new strategy was the incident with Bush Sr. and the Japanese Prime Minister.  But, we’ve all had bad sushi so I’m going to let that one go.

I wouldn’t want to come across as a whack job conspiracy theorist after all….

This terrorist group probably knows that none of us will help each other out because the chain effect would be too devastating to comprehend. They are strategically using our nationwide Emetophobia against us. Classic divide and conquer tactics.

So in order to prepare for either of the above mentioned scenarios, I decided to look up all the different terms for regurgitation. Well, it was probably less about preparation and more because it would appear I’m a 12-year-old boy and it’s kinda funny and super gross.

Anyway, here are a few choice cuts.

You’re welcome.

  • Barffalo Bill
  • Buick
  • Chorkle
  • Chow shower
  • Chumming
  • Disembarking dinner
  • Gale Force Burp
  • Gurping
  • Hwark
  • Involuntary personal protein spill
  • Laughing at the ground
  • Liquid scream
  • Mouth crying (a personal favorite)
  • Rooping
  • Uneat
  • Vurp  (a burp with a little vomit, see also; Shart)
  • Yark

 

Sexual Delusions in Portland – Who Wouldn’t Want to Tap This?

Sexual Delusions in Portland – Who Wouldn’t Want to Tap This?

Back when I was super cool and lived in Portland, Oregon, Jim and I used to go out to tons of music venues to mix with the tattooed, pierced and alternative Portland element.

We were in a limbo of wanting to be those people and yet ensure our kids didn’t grow up to be them.

We would attempt to go undercover, hiding our suburban, parental underbelly but we missed the whole “ink” craze so our consistently flesh colored flesh made us stick out like Amish at a car show.

We began to compromise a bit because we couldn’t find babysitters who would stay until 3AM and, let’s face it, we were just too tired.

Enter Aimee Mann. I do love her. She has that mix of catchy tunes and pissed off lyrics that make you feel like you are retaining some sort of edge. She does say fuck so there is some street cred there.

So, we went to see her perform at one of the groovy, divey spots PDX is known for.

We took our seats and struck up a conversation with the nice couple next to us. He was all sorts of Portland middle-aged cool sporting a shaved head and a soul patch and she had a veritable kaleidoscope of colors streaked through her hair.

They were very chatty and we talked about all the liberal politics we wanted.

By the way, it is illegal to not be liberal in Portland. Go look it up. They put you in a re-training camp if they catch you at the city border.

This keeps the citizenry safe to have deep political conversations in line at the grocery store without fear of debate.

The night was off to a great start. Except for this one weird thing.

Jim and I both got this decidedly weird vibe. It was nothing anyone said but we both just had this feeling that they were a little too into us….in a kind of pervy way.

I have no idea where this came from. If you know us, you know we are not normally the types to go around with delusions of our sex appeal.

Maybe we’ve seen The Ice Storm too many times. Or maybe they were super high.

We were both oddly suspicious of this perfectly nice, if not overly friendly couple and assumed they were trolling for a wife swap/swinger situation.

Keep in mind that this has NEVER actually happened to us before.

Once the lights dimmed and Aimee was introduced, we settled into the concert and for 90 minutes or so forgot about our vortex of sexuality.

After the concert ended, our new friends/lovers said they would like to get together some time for a meal. Jim and I shot a nervous look to each other.

Is “meal” like a secret term similar to tapping your foot three times on an airport bathroom stall to indicate you are open to a BJ?

The man handed me his business card and said to give him a call to set up something. I took it and slid it into my pocket. We said our goodbyes and off into the rainy night we went.

They did seem a little dodgy about what they did for a living, as tends to be the case with Portlandians in general, and there was an odd symbol with very little explanation on the card.

We were intrigued so proceeded to Google stalk them.

A few searches later we came up with what the symbol was….

It turned out they were Freemasons.

See, we clearly get our information about how the world works from movies because all I could think of was The Da Vinci Code.

Why was it a “secret society” and what exactly were the “rituals”? Did they have a room in their split level suburban house that was dedicated to afore mentioned rituals?  Were they looking to take down the Catholic Church? Did they wear hooded robes and chant?

And, more importantly, were Freemasons swingers?

Sadly, we never found out. Day to day life swallowed us up and we never got to do a wife swap with the Freemasons (who has the time, really?) and to this day we are still sketchy on what Freemasons even are. Which I suppose is the point of it being a “secret” and all.

We also are relieved and yet a little disappointed that we are not, as suspected, utterly irresistible to anyone but ourselves. So rest easy, for you are all safe from our vortex of sexuality.

At least for now….

Why I Love Talking Monkeys

Why I Love Talking Monkeys

I love any talking monkey. I will watch all the Eddie Murphy Dr. Doolittle movies a million times just for the drunk French monkey. Same goes for that Kevin James zookeeper movie….I love me a chatty monkey! Put clothes on them and I’ll wet myself.

Oddly, I don’t like George Bush though so clearly all talking monkeys are not funny.

Now, my husband is having an aneurism because he is a science geek extraordinaire and, technically, I love talking primates, not monkeys alone, monkeys being a sub-order of primate and blah blah blah blah. So, I’ve given him a resounding whack across the head and told him that I am not Darwin so shut up and make me a lemon drop.

The crowning glory of the talking ape genre (that I just made up) is Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp. Why hasn’t some brilliant Hollywood exec (I know, I crack myself up too!) remade this inspired artifact?

For those of you not yet enlightened on the beauty of Lancelot, Mata Hairi, Dragon Woman (where the creators cast an exceptionally politically incorrect Chinese villain), APE (Agency to Prevent Evil) and CHUMP (Criminal Headquarters for Underworld Master Plan), please do yourself a favor and look at this. You will be a better person for it.

And, because Lancelot had time on his hands after saving the world from CHUMP domination, he put a bitchin’ band together: The Evolution Revolution. It’s fucking epic.

Just watch Mata Hairi shred on that tambourine. Take that Susan Dey, you candy-ass percussionist. Though, why do they feel it’s necessary to put a beard and mustache on a chimpanzee? Seems redundant somehow.

Glitterati in the Mist

Glitterati in the Mist

 

This story is the stuff of legend among my peers. They’ve heard it many times and I hate to repeat it but also feel it belongs in the annals of history as one of my more humiliating moments.

A friend of mine, who is clearly better connect than I am,  was able to get us into the Elton John post-Oscar party one year. Turns out there is also a party within a party for the select few who are closest to him. We actually had to be on TWO lists held by snotty people with clipboards.

I had not really been out of the house much over the two years or so before this event as I had been held hostage by small twin boys and had experienced something akin to Stockholm syndrome. So, my social skills were lacking unless you needed your diaper changed or some barf cleaned up. These skills had been perfected back in college and came in handy now that I had these two terrorists in my life.

When we arrived we had to walk the paparazzi plank past no less than 50 cameras with the longest lenses I’ve ever seen. Even with all the primping, exfoliating and waxing (twice) I did, not a flashbulb went off. In fact, the disappointment on their faces was just awkward. I’d be paying with ingrown hairs for weeks, you bastards.

We had to be very careful when roaming amongst these special colorful animals. We had to assume the somewhat bored vestige of our fellow partygoers. One spark of giddy recognition and we’d be left to wander the unfriendly night of West Hollywood. You must philosophically squat amongst them, mimicking their actions like Dian Fossey in an evening gown.

Once inside, I was introduced to Sir Elton and was very graciously hugged and kissed… on the mouth. This took me aback, as you may expect. I chalked it up to being gay and European. I find both do things with more panache.

Being surrounded by so many famous people is too much for the normal person to bear, let alone me. I was profoundly uncomfortable and did what any self-respecting human would do – I got good and liquored up. My blood alcohol level and 4-inch heels were a lethal combination. Keep in mind that most of these people are either on their way to rehab or have just gotten out so the sight of me swaying in the wind on my stilts may have made them a bit skittish.

Like all really great ideas when one is tanked, I decided I needed to let Sir know exactly how much I loved him when I was in Junior High and what Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy meant to me. I had been sitting on a low chair just a few feet from him and as I went to get up my dress got caught under one of my heels. This sent me tumbling directly toward Sir and, to break my fall I grabbed for the nearest thing, which happened to be his orange-colored head. A beefy hand caught me a mere centimeter before I would have tumbled fully into Sir’s lap. Sir squealed and gave me a look of such horror you’d think I was bathed in blood. He was promptly herded back to his pack by his wranglers.

Suddenly there was a buzz in the crowd. The herd began to get skittish again. I noticed a very small man in a very bright red suit. An alpha had just arrived. I can’t type his name, it was formerly one thing but now is a symbol that my computer keyboard cannot duplicate…though an elaborate calligraphy set might. He took up residence in a corner in classic defensive position so he could see his enemies approach.

Luckily, his entrance had taken any attention away from me and the intervention I’m sure they were all planning. So much for blending in and studying these creatures in their habitat. I found my colleagues and regrouped.

Now that my cover had been blown, we left and went back to the real world where I had an appropriately undignified end to the evening as I spent it on the soothingly cool tile floor of my friend’s bathroom.