Shower Your Love

I started my new job on Monday and I love it. Basically I'm paid to sit up here for a few weeks, look cute, and answer the phones until I "get used to the way the company operates", and then I'll have real duties and actual "work". Until then, it's all the free internet time that I can handle! Yowzah.

Tuesday night was the infamous Donnas show at the Galaxy Club. Delta 72 opened for them and made my knees go weak from all of the soul in the room. Imagine a skinnier cuter Jon Spencer, wearing a vintage Stones shirt, brown trousers, white belt, and white buckshoes. Hormonal overload! He climbed on speaker cabinets and hung from the rafters and did the splits WHILE playing the guitar. That's what I call entertainment, baby.

One song before their set finished, Leigh-Anne and Amanda ran up to me in the front row, where I was psuedo-dancing, and told me there was an emergency. There were no tampons in the bathroom. And Leigh-Anne needed one. So I ran to the doorgirl and asked for some help, she said she didn't have anything. I looked for the Donnas merch girl (hell, they're bound to have some if four girls are touring together) but she was nowhere to be found. So Leigh-Anne insisted that I go out with her to find some. ONE SONG LEFT! I was not happy, but I figured it was just one song and she really was kind of in a bad place, so I ran a block to Cafe Brazil, telling a guy hanging off the roof of the Bone to fuck off when he said "shake it baby", and discovered that Cafe Brazil was also out of stock of the essentials. She checked our purses in the trunk of the car but couldn't find any, so we hopped in the Altima and drove to a VERY bad part of town where I knew a 7-11 was. Situation resolved. We got back to the club a few minutes before the Donnas took the stage so it was no big deal.

The Donnas were next and I can't stress this enough, but I LOVE THEM! They are cute and fun and everything I want my own band to be. I am jealous of them and love them with all of my heart all at the same time.

On Saturday I went with Amanda and Erin to the Chomsky CD release party. It was sweltering outside, even at 11 pm, which caused for some misery on our part. Before we went, I sold a couple of CDs at CD World to get some money to get in the door (thank GOD payday is only a week away), and made a new "friend". Let's call him, oh, Crusty. (Not far from his real name, and much more apropos.) Conversation went as follows:

Me: Can you buy these from me?
Crusty: I dunno. Maybe. (wink) How old are you?
Me: erm, 21.
Crusty: (eyes lighting up - aha! she's overage! no jail this time!) Let me take a look to see if I can buy these. In the meantime, why don't you take listen to my band's album?
Me: I've heard your band. (thinking back to abhorrent pain everytime his band gets onstage as an opener for a number of bands I've gone to see)
Crusty: Oh, really? (sleazy laugh)
Amanda: Yeah, we saw you open up for D Gen. (*The show where Crusty's band told us all that we sucked because we weren't getting into their set. Because THEY sucked.)
Crusty: Oh. Cool. That show was bad.
Me: Yeah. So can you buy those from me?
Crusty: We should hook up sometime. Can I get your number? (starts pulling money out of the register, pulling out more dollars for the more I'm willing to talk to him)
Me: Okay. 972-664-0**0. (Which is not my number. It's Johnny's -he screwed a friend of mine over and for that I give the number out to anyone that tries to pick up on me. I can only imagine the surprise that Crusty had when Johnny answered the phone and said wrong number.)

And wouldn't you know it? I ran into dear Crusty on Tuesday. Nasty short punk boy. He winked at me and my friends just laughed and sneered. I wonder if he's tried to call yet?

Tonight I pray Operation Sneak Into Marlboro Sponsored Cheap Trick Secret Show Without Enough Marlboro Miles works. Send me your good vibes.

And my heart goes out to NARDWUAR who is in the hospital right now. At first I thought the news of his brain hemmoraging was a joke, but no, he really is in the hospital undergoing tests. I think I'm going to cry. The man is my hero. While you're at his site, read his interview with Paul Gallagher. And with Cheap Trick. And Quiet Riot. You will laugh. Actually, instead of sending me good vibes so I can see over-the-hill rockers, send them to him instead. I want him to get better.