Quiet Storm
Roxie 77

Pittsburgh ?
Bi and Proud ?

Monday, Sept. 27, 2004

What a weekend!
Friday I got a lot of things done on my list. (well, to be completely honest, I did not do all the following on Friday, but I am going to pretend that I did in order to get all the housekeeping stuff out of the way)
I moved the music into the livingroom, which ended up including moving the DVD player and moving the turntable and unhooking and rehooking the stereo speakers incorrectly, so that I thought I had broken them and I was a VERY SAD girl for a few hours, until my honeygirl came and fixed them. (truthfully, I figured out what I had done wrong before she fixed them, since contrary to popular belief I am a SOFT BUTCH according to the online quiz I took recently!)
I also alphabetized the CDs and records, and I catergorized the cassettes in some manner, loosely. I celebrated by listening to ALBUMS which I have not listened to in a while.
Also paid a little something to everyone who currently wants big pieces of me, and even left a little something for me to live on for a little while. Not in the manner to which I am accustomed, surely, but meagerly. Sigh. Any day now, that wealthy benefactor will be beating down my door.
Friday night I went over to Herbie's for some Tivo. First we had dinner at Lot 17, which is never disappointing. Bass and a steak sandwich and sweet potato fries. We drank ginger beer and watched my rock star boyfriend, and Heavy Metal Parking Lot, and The Kids Are Alright. That made me tear up, just as I predicted. Things were so simple back in the olden times, when the sheer blue of Pete Townshend's eyes sent me into rapture. OK, they still do. Especially when he is saying something extremely pretentious. Herbie and I had some good convos and then I came home slightly drunk and sleepy.
Watched the Saturday morning shows and then headed to Barbs, where it was civil war reenactors day. Weird. We ended up going to Dave's Music Mine in search of Dad's Porno Mag, which I did not find. (OH! That's what I forgot! I had bid on a copy on ebay for $5.00, and the auction ended Friday night with someone outbidding me by 50 cents. Someone who is no doubt never going to listen to it, as I read his profile and he is a "music collector" Dammit! It was even signed by Roxie. My honeygirl figured that I can probably get him to send me a copy at some point after I help him to rule the world. We'll see) ANYWAY, I took the opportunity to raid the 99cent cassette tape racks. I got Whitesnake(not THE Whitesnake, but the one with "Slow and Easy" which is almost as good) and Babes in Toyland, and Concrete Blonde, and Cibo Matto, and Visage, and Psychotica, and Sir Mixalot, and that album that Peter Buck made with the Troggs, and one other one which I cannot remember. It will come to me. Then we went to CD Warehouse where they also didn't have Dad's Porno Mag or even Appetite for Destruction used, and then to Brave New World, just to continue the Drrty South used CD crawl. (of course, if I had prescience I would have brought flyers for the Bolan Birthday Bash, but as I did not I did not) While there my honeygirl found Flush the Fashion, the extremely rare Alice Cooper does Gary Neuman CD. She got it and it is just silly. If you've heard "Clones", you know what kind of Casio-infused good times I am talking about. She also got "Creatures of the Night" which is the KISS album she has been wanting, so it was a pretty successful crawl for her. I was REALLY wanting Appetite for Destruction, or even Pretty Hate Machine, but to no avail. Some day.
So then we had pizza for dinner and then we went to the Dirry(Penn Aiken Dairy for the uninitiated) and got big beers and headed for the movie show.
Which contained some great films by women, and some extended masturbation on film by men. Almost all of the films by men had some potential but got bogged down in doing the same COOL thing over and over until it became painful. By the end of the evening, between how hot it was and how much the seat hurt and all the technical difficulties and all the masturbation, I told my honeygirl that I was going to die of experimental film. But I made it through.
Of course, since I was so near death by the end we didn't make it down to the QS to see the Working Poor, making probably 6 times I have missed them now. Oh well. I continue to have good intentions.
Sunday morning was biscuits and gravy and then doing a few things around the house. And then suddenly it was nighttime and we stumbled upon the Fashion Rocks! Show. It was very oddly put together, or perhaps just very oddly edited, but it did afford me a glimpse of Johnny Rzeznik, lead singer of the Goo Goo Dolls. I LOVED that band in the day, and I still love them. Unfortunately, Avril Lavigne turned it into a bad kareoke performance. Have mercy.
The most notable thing about that show was the fact that the performance list was only slightly different from the award show I saw recently from Vegas---I think it was called the World Music Awards or something. Beyonce, Andre 3000, Avril Lavigne,'s like they are a package tour of media whores. I wonder if they all have the same publicist or something.
The other notable thing was the almost complete and total lack of ROCK involved in the Fashion Rocks! show. It rocked less than me, and as you may remember, I no longer rock very much at all.
Despite this(or maybe because of it?) I have decided to try my hand at rock journalism. Gail Worley is my new hero.

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