Kitty Power

Rock And Rolling With The Randoms

Saturday was kinda hectic. The End.

Nah, just kidding.

The other week, I won tickets from Flavorpill and I was pretty stoked since I never win anything and a certain other blogger has made them her bitch ever so thoroughly. I invited Jenny to roll and we decided to make a CMJ day of it since we both had been skimping on the shows. We got here about 4pm and discovered by being there until around 10:30pm that there actually might be something as too many shows -- or rather, you can overload on standing around being crushed, suffocated with smoke, and having your eardrums ring. There was a lot of good music and that dungeon of a basement surprised me by being a nice (if potentially dangerous) space for music. I got my winning Ace Fu swag of stickers and CDs plus Jenny and I can both parade around saying we're Miss Rheingold candidates since we've got the miniature ass tank tops, buttons and all. We could win. Since free is my favorite price, I was persuade to break my anti-beer stance and have one. I really spent about 2.5 hours drinking that one Rhiengold. I was taking the incredibly small sippy sips. Disgusting, but doable. I couldn't work that Bud though. It was the first beer I ever tried that made me put the "looks like piss, smells like piss, tastes like piss, not for me" rule in effect. Still makes me want to vomit. But, for future reference, if I don't want to get drunk but am feeling orally fixated, Rheingold is how to go.

We passed the time observing the hipster trends. If I was playing Bingo for money, I would've been a rich ass. What I'm despising has to be the porn star moustache. Eww. Just eww. Is that really flattering on anyone? It makes the hat thing almost bearable. I never actually believed that people were really doing that until I saw about 3 band members sporting it. Shave that shit! There and later on that night, I also found that everyone but me (and perhaps 5 other people) seem to be coke snorting fuckers taking the 80s revival a bit far. Jenny and I concurred that the powder is wack. My poor nose only half works as it is, so if I further fuck it up, I might as well cut it off and leave a hole in my face to breathe out of, which isn't so appealing. Still, here at Kitty Power, we pride ourselves on being non-judgmental and blasé in the moments of illicit drug activities, even if we don't partake. My highlight was this group Man Man (aka Magic Blood aka Gamelon) from Philly, that seemingly appeared out of nowhere to be a B-52s/Talking Headsesque colossal bit of wonderfulness. They've got a fucking xylophone! It's two keyboardists and two percussionists, but everyone also plays percussion too. Dude, they've got a song where the chorus is "Meow Meow." Man Man can have all my kids. I'm in love. But, we'll only consummate after the singer guy cuts that damned poor excuse for a moustache off. I don't tolerate that shit. And they need more user friendly website. Sheesh.

From there, it was off to the shindig at Grandmastah H's. The two of us walked in to see GH, his roomie and another guy in a room full of girls, most of whom only had eyes for GH. Then again, it's him. Something like that is inevitable. The man's a charmer. I never hate, only congratulate. Soon, Jenny was off to continue her rock adventure in Williamsburg and I stayed with the kids where too much vodka was consumed and unspeakable things were done with a freakish inanimate object. There might be pictures floating around somewhere, but I'd like to preserve some dignity thanks.

From there, off to the club. Girls were panting after GH like a steak on a deserted island and I made a little cute conversation with him where I handicapped the race to see who to put my money on. Soon after, he bounced kinda suddenly, supposedly "alone." Uh huh, do you, player. I found myself with randoms, still hyped up and wondering what to do next since it was early for me. I was taken under a wing and spirited uptown where I drank wine, got licked in the face by a dog (eww), observed activities but didn't partake, and lounged around in comfy pants until about 6am rolled around I started doing that blink and 5 minutes disappear thing. I strolled myself to the F train and was doing pretty well on the staying awake tip until Roosevelt Avenue when I blinked and woke up at Union Turnpike. In my disorientation, I got off and realized I was fucking up as the train pulled off. Damn. My stop is Parsons. So, I sat down on the bench and waited 25 minutes for the next one to come. I did a little blinking, but woke up when the E (I hate that one) pulled in and rode it to my stop, feeling like a stupid. I strolled in the house around 7:15 feeling like a crackhead. All in a night out I suppose.

Posted by Candicissima at October 28, 2003 12:20 PM