LOVE RHYMES WITH HIDEOUS CAR WRECK

Okay.

Um, to start out with, I'm not dead. Or maimed. Or injured. Or whatever. And my car is not totalled, mashed, gone, destroyed, or anything of the sort.

That goes out to those of you who be asking. It was just a misunderstanding.

Okay?

Okay.

SO.

This weekend went from sexyuberawesome to eh in the space of a few hours.

So on Friday, Cooper, Dom and I (and later, Rosalie, Kai-ou, and Lucy) journeyed back to the long forgotten land of Chapel Hill to hit the Cat's Cradle. To see Be Your Own Pet. The sexy teen-punk band. And... wow, what an interesting show it was.

The intro band, to start with, whose name we didnt catch (I dont even think they said what they were called, they just started playing) were... um... strange. They were like some hardcore power emo trio, with a guitarist/screamer, a keyboardist, and a SPASTIC drummer. Seriously, it looked like the drummer was about to hit himself in the face most of the time. And all the keyboardist did was crank out some EARSPLITTING chords on the keyboard, while the guitarist played a few notes now and then, and wailed about love and life and Cheerios. Then, they just left. Gone.

Next band, The Black Lips, topped out the first band on sheer WTFness, however. It seemed like the entire band was composed of highschool/college dropouts and who had turned to a life of heroin and music to get by. We had Luigi (yes, the Mario Bro.) on bass, a completely stoned lead guitarist, a rhythm guitarist who looked EERILY like Stefan (only, like, if Stefan were a crack fiend) who had a strange fetish for hawking loogies up into the air and catching them on his face. And another spastic drummer. So they played some strangely poppy sounding metalish stuff, the dude in front of us would not stop dancing, and inbetween songs they lectured us on staying in school and not doing drugs and how their band SUCKS.

Yeah.

Finally, Be Your Own Pet, the most, um, normal band of them all. We have screamy, sorta attractive singer, bassist with the afro who we saw preshow walking into walls (who also had a wierd affinity with shooting out loogies, only this time, into the crowd,) guitarist with too damn much hair, and new drummer who was not Jamin, because Jamin left the band, and that makes me sad. They played through their entire CD in what seemed like 15 minutes (including a song that was literally maybe 45 seconds long, I didn't even recognize it, they went so damn fast) and then they left. No encore. Aww.

All in all, not the greatest show I've seen at the Cradle, but still worth going to. Hanging out with mates is always worth it, and I hadn't seen Kai-ou in like forevers. Yep.

Then I went home and passed out.

Couldn't go to soccer the next day, because I had to go see The Lion King (the Broadway show) for Andrew's birthday. Most people would leap at joy to see the show, but A. I've already seen it, and B. I'd much rather hang out with friends than go sit through a 3 hour long show.

Eh.

Then I slept, played Tekken, and basically lounged around for the rest of the weekend.

Classes for three days.

Fall break starts Wednesday night.

Woo.

Oh yeah, for the video...



This is an Inside Edition from 1988, covering the NES. Remember those good old days? When video games in the media didnt equal death, sex and destruction.

Also, I totally still have my pair of Super Mario underwear.

~meh!~  ¶ 1:07:00 AM