Quality Time with Friends

P.:  I need coke.

Me: You don’t need coke.

P.:  I do, I do need coke. I totally need coke and I need it right now.

Me:  You’re not doing coke! Don’t be an idiot.

P:  Goddamnit, just one line! You bitch, I know you know where to get it!

Me:  No! I hate coke, I’m not getting it and you’re not doing it.

P. (grabbing me by the shirt and shoving his face into mine):  Please, please, PLEASE!!!!

Me (slapping him across the face):  Snap out of it, you big mary! You’re not doing any coke!!


P. (visibly calmer, mouth wide open in shock):  Oh my God, that was amazing. I love you.

Me:  I love you too. Now sip your damn drink.

Random Nightlife Encounters

Skanky, sloppy, wasted girl who keeps trying to kiss Drew and grab his ass, holds her fists up in front of me and says: “If you come to my 80’s prom themed birthday party we might get in a fistfight.”

Me: “That’s a distinct possibility, yes.”

Skanky girl: “Yeah, cause we’d be fighting over who’s the hottest.”

Me: “Um…right. I don’t really fight anymore since the whole jail thing. But I am thinking about making an exception.”

Skanky girl: “Your boyfriend is hot.”

Me: “Can you back up a little bit, please?”

Drew, behind her and making kicking and boxing motions: “Git her, honey! Come at her like a spider monkey!”

Mike: “I’ve been farting this whole time, can you smell anything?”

Killing Time on a Friday Afternoon

When I’m supposed to be working (shut it, Denise!)…

I see this ad on a billboard every day on my way to work and I am living for it:

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In the immortal words of T.G. Warrior, they all prefer beige wallpaper:

Proof positive that even if you are Dita frigging Von Teese you are not immune to the suffering shit-storm. Ladies, if you have a good man who appreciates your non-beigeness and above-foetal age bracket, make sure you let him know what a champ he is, because it’s a jungle out there and the apes are in charge.

I think these people are balls-to-the-wall, BAD-mothafucking-ASS. And yes, I am aware that featuring the ALF and a Gucci ad in the same blog is a bit contradictory but I think you know which side of the fence my heart belongs to.

Transcendant Moments

These are off the top of my head…

–When the Levee Breaks: the millisecond pause behind the beat that Robert Plant takes before kicking into “If it keeps on raining…” 

–Panda jumping into my arms when I reached down to pick him up.

–Go-go dancing to a favorite song, in sync with the crowd below, feeling connected and in control of the energy on the dance floor.
–Falling asleep in clean sheets, everything silent except for purring cats.
–Standing on the balcony watching the show: he looks up from the stage, I whisper “See me.” And he does.
–The intro to Bela Lugosi’s Dead.
–That second that it dawns that you are finally over a broken heart.
–In my 20’s, in the passenger seat of Kim’s giant 50’s Buick, cigarette in hand, music blasting, Kim waving at strangers, feeling too cool for school and knowing the night’s only going to get better.
–Smelling and feeling your lover’s hair when he leans in to whisper.
–Hearing my two-year old nephew ask hopefully, “Mary’s coming?”

Now give me yours…


First, thank you to those of you who have kindly sent me get well wishes. I am fine and know I owe some emails and will get on it shortly.

Evil from The Independents sent me a message today that this video was up on their page. It was the last project I worked on with Joey Ramone. Joey loved the Independents and was funding and helping direct this video, but he died halfway through its making. I thought the footage would never surface but the band took what they had and made a pretty fun video out of it.

I play the vampire queen, of course. I spent the day baring my fangs and walking slowly and menacingly through the cloisters while my minions chased Evil around. It was really fun and now special to me because it was the last day I spent with Joey.

For those of you who don’t know me well, the full on face shot of the girl crawling up the stairs is not me, its my friend April playing a minion. She’s in my friend list if you happen to fall in love.

Hey There Posers!

I am horribly sick today, an attempt to get up and get ready for work this morning failed miserably before even getting to the bathroom. I got out of bed, went to the couch, stared into space for about three minutes and then crawled back into the bed again, face down. I am fevery with aching ears and throat and a hacking cough that feels like it’s shredding my throat further every time it happens. I’m shuffling around the apt in my nightie with uncombed hair and circles under my eyes, imagining myself as Camille or a lovely dying gothic wraith but truth be told am looking more like a thinner and less energetic Anna Magnani in the Rose Tattoo. 
I did manage to make it to work yesterday to finish payroll, knowing full well that my absence on a payday already postponed by the holidays would cause a pink riot. But I left right afterwards and except for that brave foray into the outside world have pretty much been in bed since the end of New Year’s Eve, which for me was at 9:30 am on Monday morning. I will leave you to draw your own conclusions on that particular correlation.
So there’s been a lot of action in my little world on myspace lately. Every one of my friends has created a myspace page for their dog and each one of these friends is now bugging me to do it. I simply cannot. I barely have enough dignity as it is, I can’t keep up with my own page, and though we had someone running the CSFH page for us, that person has since fallen by the wayside and it’s up to us to answer the mail and read the comments. So I am terrified that if I buckle and create a page for my dog I will pretty much have to give up any semblance of a social life and simply admit that myspace IS my life. Argh. And then I will be Tila Tequila (perhaps an apt name considering the current state of my health).
The other myspace tale I’d like to tell has to do with the aforementioned CSFH page. I acquired a comment generator, one of those things that puts a comment on all your friends’ pages for you, in order to save some time and hassle and send greetings to all the lovely CSFH fans that are always sending us messages and comments that we are unable to respond to (see afore-mentioned trying to have a life). I figured this would be an easy way to say happy new year to all the CSFH friends out there in the world, many of whom ask for responses and never get them.
But of course, me being me (i.e. the rock equivalent of Lucille Ball) I set it up REALLY quickly without pondering consequences. So the comment consisted of the phrase, “Thanks for being our friend, poser. Happy New Year from CSFH!” and an old photo of the girls doing the “I’m crushing your head” thing that I thought was kind of funny.
WELL! First, I never considered the fact that when you put out 3500 comments, half of those people are going to comment back. So my clever scheme for making our lives easier actually created the comment approval equivalent of the time Lucy and Ethel work in the chocolate factory. Deluge! Make it stop!!

Secondly, I totally forgot how seriously many rockers take the word “poser”. Not all, thank you Jesus, but some take it very, very, VERY seriously. In fact, they don’t like the word much at all. Back in “the day” I used to think this was all quite hilarious, primarily because I was the one member of the band constantly dating the “posers”. I loved those skinny guys in makeup and scarves. Hell, I still do! Ancient history trivia: My end line in Wish You Were a Beer instead of “You look good” was originally, “I dunno, I think he’s kind of cute.” I changed it when we recorded the song because back then no one was supposed to admit they actually enjoyed the company of posers and certain members of the band didn’t appreciate my sense of humor about the whole thing.
Ha! My argument was and always will be that the non-posers were just posing at not being posers anyway. It’s rock and roll, it’s all a pose, fer Chrissakes! The whole argument was so unbelievable silly, people taking strong sides on either side of the fence and getting all heated with one another over who was and who wasn’t. It was all very sneetches with stars on thars to me (and to Donna, who wrote the lyrics to Beer). I was absolutely thrilled when members of Metallica came out wearing black nail polish in the 90’s. I KNEW it!! There they were, the kings of the non-posers, posing it up nice. Don’t think I didn’t lord that little tidbit over certain old friends!
Anyway, most people got the comment joke and responded pretty funnily, but a few people got extremely dramatic, some taking the crushing your head thing to be a further slap in the form of a “your dick is this small” pantomime. I was shocked at how upset they got and it was a good lesson for me. I must remember that not everyone gets our asshole sense of humor, and that if or when posting comments to strangers, make sure you keep it nice and polite.
In the meantime, since I’m too sick to blog about anything really deep, I would like to share some CSFH mail with you for entertainment’s sake. We have always received the most demented mail you can imagine, but the holiday comment spiked things up considerably. Unfortunately the deluge of mail was so large that the one at the top is the only poser complaint I could dig out from the the pile in my weakened state, but I thought it was a pretty good representation of the outrage that that two syllable word can create:

From a TRUE BITCH ov Hell
Body: To whomever reads this shoit,

My friend called me today and up in a fit because you posted something on her site about her being a poser. She is a true rockn’roll woman who has made a name forherself playing in the scene etcetc fuck. I’m not here to defend her, but I am totally disgusted that you can’t even support another woman in the scene, its hard enough doing this without being shit on further.

I know, I know, suck it up be tough it dog eat dog and all that drivel – I can pretty much take a lot of crap but some can’t. My initial reaction was to give a long profane tirade ending with my own “Kids in the Hall’ version of squishing, but fuck it just ain’t worth the hassle. You women need to take a long hard look at who you are saying a big fuck you to.

A big waste of my time, but I needed to stick up for my Metal Sister -from Lunalamentis – in the TRUE NORTH

If you have the decency to bother with a reply, I’m not the one to send it to, send it to her space SUCK MY VOX -c/o Roxy Rola

I wanted to write her back and say that she should shove a tampon in it and stop the PMS whining, but I guessed that might just add fuel to the fire. So I simply responded that it was a joke. It’s my own opinion that one of the reasons that some guys aren’t that keen on women in rock is because a few of us bleed all over the place like teenage girls whenever given the opportunity. And then you know what happens—Bears! We attract bears!
But here’s another one that cheered me up immensely after that last hormonal tirade:

No Subject
Body: Can you lot kick my ass? I’d really love it if you kick my ass!! please please please please please please kick my ass
I love you

And here’s a response after I posted a bulletin explaining that the comment was meant to be a friendly joke/greeting and that we weren’t actually, seriously accusing people of being posers:

RE: One more time for the sensitive peeps out there…
Body: I thought it was funny. Personally, I think people who are offended by such things are faggots. I think that people who are offended by the words faggot are faggots. If you are into metal and get offended by a group of women saying ANYTHING then you’re a fucking fool. Fucking loads of sluts, and drinking loads of booze. Yeah, I’m drunk. People who get offended by myspace can fuck off. It’s fucking myspace, faggots.

I think that one sums it up quite nicely. Hope everyone’s having a great 2007 so far. Later, posers!
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