Saturday Evening Thoughts

This morning as I was driving through my neighborhood, one of my neighbors was standing over his lawnmower looking a tad bit hung over. As I passed I noticed the back of his shirt read in large bold letters: 100% PURE WHOOP ASS.

You read it here first! Judakris predicted that Gnarls Barkley’s Crazy would be the song of summer 2006. This was confirmed by the fact that not one, not two, but three other musical acts covered the song at Lollapalooza. We were really impressed with The Raconteurs’ version. They also covered Bang Bang (My Lover Shot Me Down) which was awesome. I love now that Jack White lives in Nashville he has a Southern accent. Last year when he was promoting Get Behind Me Satan, he sounded like Katherine Hepburn or Cary Grant with one of those weird Continental accents that you just can’t quite place. Jack, if you're reading, I kid because I love! I’m hoping The Raconteurs will head to STL for a show sometime in the future.

Is anyone watching RockStar: Supernova? It’s like a car crash. I find myself watching every week just to see how ridiculous the performances will be and how often Tommy Lee will tell someone they’re “dope”. The part that amazes me the most is from watching the show I have gathered that the performers have a lot of control over the arrangement of the song they are singing. They have very capable musicians backing them every week, but things sound like crap. Do they mean to make everything sound like muzak? Is it in hopes of pulling in American Idol viewing numbers? Okay, and do we honestly think these guys will pick a woman to front their band? It’s not that I think they are sexist, I just don’t think it would work in this case. The only one that has a chance is Dilana and I really can’t stand her voice. I could go on and on dissecting the performances from this week which ranged from boring to silly but I won’t. Sorry to be so acidic, but it’s been one of those weeks at work where you want to come home and crawl into a fetal position. Maybe I just need to focus my energies towards being 100% PURE WHOOP ASS. --J

Is Anything Original?

To answer the question, no and yes. All we can hope for is an entertaining pastiche (the only word I remember from my mass communications class).

We waffled back and forth as to whether we should go see Living Things at the Creepy Crawl. I know we waffle quite a bit, but that’s how it is when all of your energy is consumed by the 9 to 5 portion of life. We had discussed this band a few times in the past. Their song Bom Bom Bom seems to be everywhere. It’s the soundtrack for television commercials and even background music for a portion of the film Lady in the Water. That’s especially amusing because one of the characters in the movie, a movie critic, states that there is no originality left in the world, how appropriate. When I went to Living Things’ website, I couldn’t believe how much the lead singer, Lillian Berlin, looked like a “Performance”-era Mick Jagger. K also pointed out the obvious T.Rex influences in their music.

The Creepy Crawl is a small bar and all of their shows are all-ages, so for a portion of the night, part of the club was roped off for the under 21ers. The bar also has a 30inch television behind the bar that plays movies constantly. When we walked in, one of my all time favorites, Office Space was on. There was also a sign on the door alerting all to a film crew in the bar. The bassist, guitar player, and drummer for Living Things were on stage being filmed running through a sound check. It was interesting to see the behind the scenes. The bassist and guitarist of The Living Things are so thin. At one point as we watched them during soundcheck , K said, “Does it hurt to be that skinny?” They cleared the stage and made way for the first band of the evening, Victoria. They had great energy, especially the bass player, but as far as I am concerned, they could have removed the quarter of the stage that held their female keyboard player. She didn’t match. I must admit, she might not have had much of a chance with me, because I’m not a huge fan of keyboards in most music. Unless it’s boogie woogie piano or 80’s synth pop, I can do without most. I love the musician who keeps a cigarette lit the entire time they play. The bass player in Victoria was dedicated to the cigarette! The faces that he had to make to keep the cigarette steady as he bounced around the stage kept me enthralled. Before Victoria took the stage, the movie on the television behind the bar had switched to American Psycho. Victoria was told they had about 16 minutes left to perform so they got a little jammy. The guitarist began using a tuning fork to create a wall of sound. At this precise moment that he was trying to be the hardest working man in rock n roll, the threesome scene from American Psycho came on the television and every male in the room no longer cared who was on stage. There were about 40 people in the audience at this point, and after Victoria played, most cleared out.

Next up was a group called Sexy Robots, a solid punk trio. It was bound to happen though. Before they came onstage, I saw some of the guys who work at the Creepy Crawl who do sound and what-not, break into “the robot” when someone asked, “Who’s up next?” Not only did they answer, but they had to demonstrate through dance. I loved it.

The high point in the evening was when Ghostfinger, a two-piece from Nashville took the stage. K and I were immediately hooked. We were cheering and whooping it up from the back of the club for them. Here is where I would insert the word “original” as far as performances of the night. As K states, there will be more about them in a later post.

Onto what was supposed to be the highlight of the evening, The Living Things. I had read before the show that they were native to St. Louis, which was kind of surprising to me. Here come the bassist, guitarist, and drummer out on the stage, then out struts Lillian Berlin. I told K he kinda scared me a little. I swear every time I have seen a musician or any celebrity in person, they are always these extremely tiny people. Lillian is very thin but also unexpectedly very tall. When he walked out on the stage it was a Tim Curry Rocky Horror Picture Show moment. He was full of attitude. At certain angles, he is a dead ringer for Mick Jagger. He also reminds me a bit of David Johansson. They opened with their single Bombs Below. After a few songs, Lillian mentioned that St. Louis held some very bad memories for them. After three or four songs, without playing Bom Bom Bom, they walked off the stage and the show was over. What the hell? I agree with K’s sentiments in her review of the show. Get bent about the pizza in St. Louis, not the folks who are gracious enough to come and watch you do your thing.

Now it’s Saturday afternoon and I am watching their set at Lollapalooza on the internet. Lillian has on the same outfit as Thursday but a much sunnier disposition. He has the nerve to have local St. Louis celebrity Beatle Bob dancing on stage with him and to also say during the set, “Hail St. Louis”! Yeah sure, asshole. --J

A.F.I. at the Pageant

On July 30, 2006 I headed down to the Pageant, sans J, to watch A.F.I.

I did not expect to love Nightmare of You as much as I did. One of my coworkers, R, considered tagging along that night only because of them.

Next was Dillinger Escape Plan. Very raucous and the crowd ate them up.

A.F.I. sound like every other band in that genre, really, but they put on a great show for their fans who returned their love and admiration with their screams and pumping fists.

In a recent article in the Dispatch, lead singer Davey Havok was described as being “rail thin”. Eh? I have seen rail thin and rail thin he ain’t! But I’m getting ahead of myself.

While Nightmare of You, who sounded very nicely like a punk version of Morrissey, played their set, I stood on the top floor and found a wall to lean against as I drank my gin. I had a great vantage point from where I was because I could see the stage, the audience, and people around me. I hadn’t smoked in a week and wanted to smoke one a mile long. Well, that’s what I did. I went up to the bar and purchased a pack. Not having a lighter (which is unheard of for me) I asked the guy next to me who looked a little drunk to hand me a book of matches, located to his left. As soon as I lit up and took the first drag I felt alive again. I’m not religious at all, but that moment makes me want to drop to my knees and thank someone, anyone. Earlier that day I had purchased a pair of sexy black open-toed platform wedges and that night was their inaugural outing. So, I was feeling fine.

Anyway, once J and I observed that it seemed perfectly acceptable nowadays to wear the band’s t-shirt at the concert. Among the black t-shirt brigade were a lot of A.F.I. shirts. I also saw a lot of parents hanging out in their jean shorts.

As the crew started to fix up the very white A.F.I. stage, I ordered another drink and fumbled to try and light my cig. I had been noticing a group of non-goth kids standing to my left that kept looking over at me. I recognized one of them as being the one that handed me the book of matches. I was uncomfortable. Without wanting to show my insecurity by looking down to see if I had made some incredibly bad fashion decision, I just acted like I didn’t notice and tried to light my cig. The group walked away, but out of the blue comes this hand with a lit match. He was tall, cute, and very much out of place. I looked at him and said “thanks” and he said, “You know you’ve made it when even your crew is color coordinated with the band and the stage”. I looked down at the stage and sure enough, the crew was all in white. He said that with great sarcasm and I appreciated that.

While there was no music and the atmosphere was conducive to talking we got to know each other a little bit. The perfunctory, “so are you from here?” type questions we got out of the way early. I was surprised that the small talk didn’t seem boring at all. He seemed young, but was an old soul. At some point I unintentionally impressed him with my knowledge of history. I told him I grew up in Germany and he said “Ah, my ancestors came from there about 200 years ago. Valerius”. I looked at him and said “Romans”. At hearing this one word, he jumped up and yelled “OH MY GOD-YOU KNOW ABOUT THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE!!! HOW THEY MADE EVERYONE LATINIZE THEIR NAMES!” I was taken aback by the reaction and then said “bridges”. What I meant to say was “yes, the long arm of the Holy Roman Empire stretched out and influenced many aspects of life in Europe- look at the architecture, for example.” When I’ve been drinking I can’t always articulate, but this guy knew exactly what I meant to say. In fact, he said “Yes, the architecture, absolutely! MAN! I can’t believe I can talk to you about this. Can I buy you another drink?”

You know, for once I’d like to really impress a guy with looks rather than my knowledge of history, comics, or argue that Queen may possibly be the greatest band that ever was.

When we started discussing what we do for a living, we both realized that we were perpetual fixers. He was a Democrat who maintained a database for a local Republican politician. He would be in charge of sending messages or activating a dozen Blackberries at once, for example. He told me that the Republicans were thanking god when the storm hit. He said “they’re all about distraction right now”. When I asked him how he could take it, he said “this is why I’m a drunk at 23”.

So, then A.F.I comes on. The crowd screamed so loudly we looked at each other and grinned. He said “Wow. They’re here for A.F.I., it seems”. Finally, I turned to him and said, “What the hell are you doing here?” He said he was a friend of a friend of one of A.F.I.’s roadies and tagged along for the night. Oh good- another non-fan!

Back to A.F.I. The cd is called DecemberUnderground and how appropriate that the stage and the band were all in white. As I watched Davey run around in his white suspenders, asymmetrical haircut and glittery eye make-up, I looked at my new friend and asked “do you think he’s gay?” He said, “Maybe. Or, maybe he gets so much poon that he doesn’t have to pretend to be straight.”

When the crowd’s singing overwhelmed the band’s voices and Davey simply turned it over to them, my friend looked at me and said “ you know, if I were the artist I’d be like ‘People your job is to buy the album. My job is to sing’”.

In regards to the show, I wasn’t won over, but I also didn’t walk away hating them. I can respect them now, just because they knew their job is to put on a show for their audience and by god they did.

At the end of the night, I said goodbye to my new friend. I didn’t get digits- too young and a drunk at that age! No thanks. I’ve had an alcoholic boyfriend before, and although he was a wonderful man, I will never knowingly walk into that again.

As I drove home, I reflected on what a fun evening it was. When I looked at the time, I realized I would be home in time to tape a FUSE F*** Ups episode that was going to have Ville Valo getting slightly shitty with a tv producer who kept interrupting him. Say it with a flower pot, baby! I opened a cold beer, taped/watched the show, went to bed happy, and woke up the next day feeling like ass. Life is good. -K

Living Things at The Creepy Crawl

Thursday night J and I were both in need of getting out and so we headed down to the Creepy Crawl. We had heard that Living Things were playing that night and so thought it might be interesting to see what they are all about.

They sounded great, for the three-song set they gave us. Apparently, they were a little miffed that none of their high school friends were there. In fact, there were about 12 people in the audience, including the camera people, who kept shining a bright light in our faces for extended periods of time.

My god, Lillian was desperately trying to look like a rock star. Really, he looked like an insecure dandy unable to contain his disappointment at the turnout. Clearly, he’s a lead singer who doesn’t give a shit about the music as much as his image. He was a classless, immature, and insecure idiot and I will never buy anything of theirs (which, thankfully I hadn't yet) or spend money to see them again.

J said it best to me when, after Lillian denounced St. Louis and everything about it, she asked “if you don’t like St. Louis that much, then why book shows here?” We’re not even from here, and we felt like we were being punished for having spent 12 dollars to stand and watch them in a St. Louis venue. I think not, ya puny fuckers!

I can't be bothered to check, but I can see these guys being the kind of band that references their St. Louis roots to make them more credible or hardcore in the music industry. Yet, in reality, when here they cower and show their asses like they did Thursday night.

Getting to perform in front of people is a privilege. At least no one was yelling obscenities or throwing piss bottles at you. If something like turnout bothers you that much, then you should probably rethink what you do for a living. You lost two potential fans, guys. This early in your career you should be a little more careful. You never know who is in the audience and word of mouth gets around fast.

Also, if you're going to try and be political, don't take steps to alienate yourself from your target audience, no matter how small or large. If you just act like a stupid rockstar wannabe group, then you need to forget about people giving a shit about what it is you're saying. Lillian, I'm disappointed. You claim to be so well-versed in your political reading, but you haven't a clue as to how to communicate or relate to people. You were clearly too young to understand all that lofty literature from Chomsky, Malcolm X, etc. Live a bit more and reread your precious literature with more mature eyes, but don't come back too soon.

Thankfully, Nashville’s Ghostfinger was there to save the night. They get their own post because Judakris loved them that much. -K

N’Sync, N’Sync Everywhere

I am so glad Justin Timberlake is bringing SexyBack. Geez, it's been out of style for too long! Joking aside, I love the new single, and I am sure it will be my guilty pleasure for the rest of the summer.

Now on to Lance Bass… Lance Bass came out this week. This announcement reminded me of a story I like to have our friend M tell over and over again. About four years ago, M had to go visit a client. Keep in mind this is a business setting. One of the clients that he met with at this organization was a 40ish woman who showed up to the meeting in a mesh top, N’Sync buttons, and an N’Sync lanyard that held her work badge. M was intrigued and at break, he tried to engage this woman in an N’Sync conversation. One of the things she said in a very gruff voice was, “My favorite is LAANCEY”. I love that she was out and proud about being an N’Sync fan. You know, it’s not illegal. --J

My Two Cents on Muse

Like K and M, I’ve given Muse’s Black Holes and Revelations a spin or two. My two picks are Starlight and Supermassive Black Hole. I don’t know if I would recommend watching the video for Supermassive Black Hole though. You know how sometimes a video can fuck with the perception of a song you have in your head? This video does just that for me. Supermassive Black Hole has a sexy quality and except for the unmistakable Muse vocals, could be another track on Depeche Mode’s Violator. Watch the video and the sexiness is gone! You’ve been warned! --J

Muse's Black Holes and Revelations

One might think that I would be annoyed at the amount of vintage Queen I hear on this cd, but I can’t be. I pose the question to the gods: Is there anything truly original anymore anyway? The answer: No.

I can respect any band that is out and proud about their obvious influences. And no, M, that is not a comment on Coldplay or Keane (see Random Thoughts on a Friday Morning post below). I will forever be in trouble for that.

In my opinion, Muse has created a brilliantly bombastic fantasy piece. Beautiful melodies aside, a comb-through of the lyrics reveals a strong distaste for American culture, politics and corrupt leadership. It’s interesting because I’m so used to fantasy providing a bit of a veil for social commentary in the comics that I read, not so much in the music I listen to. Once I realized what this cd is really about, I developed a stronger appreciation for it (if that was even possible). I won't spend too much time commenting on the tracklist because politics has no place in this blog, but I decided to include a selection of lyrics from each to give you a taste of what I'm talking about and to "throw it out there". I strongly recommend this cd. -K

Take a Bow: …cast a spell/ On the country you run/…Now freedoms concealing itself/what we’ve become/ is contrary to what we want...
The crescendo of the music halfway through the song makes my little Bug vibrate. Happiness.

Starlight : Our hopes and expectations/ Black holes and revelations...
I wish I had written and composed this one. J and I went for a Starbucks the other day and blasted this on Olive. M likes to perform parts of this song in the office, haha.

Supermassive Black Hole: The first time M played this for me was the night of High Eyes. I was drunk and hated it. I couldn’t believe that Muse was writing that kind of crap. Now, I can’t get enough of it. When will I learn?

Map of the Problematique: /…Fear and Panic in the air...
Somewhere in any decent city, a gay bar will or is playing this song along with Interpol’s “Slow Hands”. I would love to be there when it does. (You and me, Lance Bass. You and me.)

Soldier’s Poem: Throw it all away/ Let’s lose ourselves/…It’s a shame we’re all dying...
When I’m alone I sing this song. And sometimes, when I forget that I’m not alone I sing this song.

Invincible: Follow through/Make your dreams come true/ don’t give up the fight/you’ll be alright/ Cos there’s no one like you/ in the universe...
Call to arms.

Assassin: Oppose and disagree/ destroy demonocracy...
“doodly noodly” guitar style, according to M. Music is painfully close to vintage Queen, but updated and still good. I almost suggested to J that her brother M (no relation to blog’s M) listen to this song since he is a Queen fan. We both agreed it was for the best that he doesn’t.

Exo-Politics: I am waiting patiently/ I’ll wait for a sign...
Last week, while J and I took her nephew D to the Pageant, I played this song and asked her if she did not hear “Like a Stone” by Audioslave. Anyway, this song references the Zetas, a folk lore race of aliens supposedly come to Earth to provide guidance. It's not them. Turns out it's just our leaders in disguise.

City of Delusion: Choose to hide from/All-Seeing Eye/…destroy city of delusion/break these walls down/I will avenge/and justify my reasons/with your blood...
Gee, I wonder if this is the All-Seeing Eye as in the freemason symbol on our dollar bill? The fictional enemy is talking here. The spirit of the chorus reminds me of the nationalistic music my Jordanian ex-bf used to play in his car in Huntsville.

Hoodoo: And I’ve had recurring nightmares/That I was loved for who I am/And missed the opportunity/ to be a better man...
The voice in this song is concerned about not standing up for what he believes in. The music is mysterious and oppressively tranquil.

Knights of Cydonia: This is a call for resistance. Cydonia is referring to the area on Mars that contained the notorious “Face of Mars”. The wild west music provides an interesting backdrop to an obvious reference to the god of war: Mars.

Glorious: Rose tinted view/And satellites that compromise the truth/…Faith, it drives me away/But it turns me on/like a Stranger’s love/It rockets through the universe/It fuels the curse/and leads me to be/glorious...
This is a bonus track on the album.

Colorado Bound

Comedy is around every corner! This morning on my way to work there was a moving truck towing a car on the expressway. The car had its windows shoe polished with the following message:

Colorado Bound

Up Yours Tennessee


There’s some really good stuff in the new August 2006 issue of Blender magazine, like the article “Stop, This is a Nightmare!” It describes various tantrums and/or mishaps of musicians on stage. There are some hilarious anecdotes including Scott Stapp’s drunken performance in Chicago that led to fans filing a lawsuit against him. My favorite, also in Chicago, took place at 2003’s Summer Sanitarium, where the audience yelled “Fred Sucks!” at Fred Durst. “Calling the set to an early end, Durst berated the crowd from the wings, boasting that limpbizkit was the greatest band in the world, until his microphone was taken from him”. I feel somewhat vindicated now that everyone is anti-Fred Durst. I always hated that band and the whole genre that spawned them.

They also have a little Q & A with Tommy Lee at the end. This was my favorite Q & A:

What would an ex-girlfriend say about you?

“He’s fun, he’s charming, he’s intense, he’s hyper, he’s passionate, he’s retarded”.

Self-aware? I think so. --J

A Pair of Drumsticks

As stated already, D did not like The Dresden Dolls set at the Panic! show. At some point during the concert, he texted me to tell me that he had a gift for me. I texted back, “Don’t spend your money!” He texted back, “Oh, I didn’t”. At that moment I was thinking of my husband H’s story from 1978 when he went to see a White Sox game and brought his sister home a pet rock. Because he had spent all of his money in the ballpark, the pet rock was a rock he found in the parking lot.

D came out and proudly presented me with the drumstick from The Dresden Dolls. We had a big laugh. Now I have a set! So when I get my drum kit, I can seriously rock with my left hand (Taylor Hawkin’s drumstick) and razzle dazzle with my right (Dresden Dolls).

Panic! In Herre

What the hell, St. Louis? We had a storm Wednesday night and it’s the following Monday and power has just been restored. Is that crazy?

The power outage dovetailed into my nephew D’s first solo visit to St. Louis. This same week, one of his favorite bands, Panic! At the Disco (with The Hush Sound and the Dresden Dolls) were playing at our favorite local venue, The Pageant. When the tickets first went on sale, K and I had considered going but in the midst of our waffling, they sold out. D was able to buy a ticket outside of the venue the night of the show. It was 102 degrees outside that day and the kids were lined up down the street waiting for the doors to open. They seemed to be unaware of the heat. Looking at the crowd, we all noted a predominance of 13 to 16 year old girls. This must have been a first concert for many. D texted me when Panic! was hitting the stage. Seeing as all we had to do was sit in a sweltering house with no electricity, my daughter A was anxious to go down with me to pick up D when the show was over. I called K and asked her if she wanted to ride down with us and check out the after show scene and she willingly came along. I figured a band with one album wouldn’t play long.

When we were standing in the back of The Pageant with some folks ready to hand out promotional stuff when the concert let out, we were approached by a homeless man, who, no joke, looked like a dust-covered, human version of the muppet, Animal. You know, the one that played drums. He launched into a life is real rough right now speech as he attempted to straighten his severely crooked, but unexpectedly trendy glasses. I gave him a buck and then he launched into a “Are you from around here?” speech. How does a homeless person have the latest in eyewear? His frames were more up to date than mine.

When D came out, I asked him if he wanted to wait and maybe see if he could meet the band. He asked if the electricity was back on at the house. When I told him, no, the wait was on. The security guards were assholes, telling the fans that the band was going to eat and relax and then MAYBE come out for autographs. K and I got yelled by security at three different times for standing in the wrong place. One time, the security guard kept yelling at us and we were oblivious that we were the point of irritation. K snarled back, “We aren’t even fans!” How dare he try and tell us to get in line. They informed people waiting for autographs that they could take pictures OF the band but not WITH the band, they could not kiss or hug the band, but they could “high five” the band. High five? Is that the most retarded thing you’ve ever heard? Do people actually high five each other, besides maybe when playing beach volleyball? I wanted to yell back at the security guards, “Fuck you!” because I knew the teeny boppers waiting in line were too nervous waiting for their chance to meet their heartthrobs, but I didn’t think that was a good thing to do in front of my kid. The “high five” only policy dashed the dreams of the 13 year olds waiting behind D. I heard one of them tell her friends, “I want to kiss all of them, and I hope ALLLL of us get to kiss all of them”. Eew.

I noticed that the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, tired of reporting on the blackout, reviewed the show. I was surprised to read that they covered Smashing Pumpkins and Radiohead. I bet most of their audience has no idea who those bands are.

D got his shirt signed and we got some pics. He enjoyed the show except for the two opening acts. It is hard to believe that the members of Panic! are 18 and 19 years old. D and I were discussing this. He thinks it would be so cool to be them. He said something like, “I’d give my left arm to be them!” Then he one-upped himself and said, “No, I’d give both my arms to be them!” I said, “D, no you wouldn’t. You couldn’t be them without arms”. He said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’d give my left toe”. Yeah, maybe that useless baby one on the end. --J

Panic! and A.

My Daughter, A, is in the right corner, oblivious to Brenden Urie, lead singer of Panic!, behind her.

Poker Face in Lansing

My brother S called me when I got into town a few weeks ago to invite me out to see our local favorites, Poker Face, in Lansing, Illinois. A good time was had by all, as you probably read in the K post “A Little Drinkie”. The band was trying out a new lineup. After several shots of tequila, my sister-in-law, M, was yelling to the new guitar player to “Zip It!” She didn’t care for his small talk between songs.

You know how sometimes you can be sober enough to tell you are being obnoxious from drinking but not sober enough to control yourself? That was me, when M, our favorite lead singer came over to chat and my sister-in-law took a cocktail and began writing several songs down for the band to play. I didn’t get a good look at the list, but I am sure they were country songs since that’s her fave. I told M that there was only one new dance tune the band needed to learn – “Train in Vain”, as I obnoxiously scrawled that on a napkin. I think M’s response was something like, “We have new guys in the band. If I tell them we’re gonna play The Clash they’re gonna freak out”.

Well Clash or no Clash, I’ll be happy to see Pokerface again next time I’m in town. --J

RFT Approved!

Judakris was picked as the "Local Blog O' the Week" by Riverfront Times, our favorite local paper. My brothers however, no approval there, but that's okay (single tear running down my cheek). --J

Message Boards, Fanfiction, and Insane Poetry

When I finish a task at work and am in need of clearing my head I like to visit some mindlessly entertaining websites. I'm especially fond of message boards and live journals. I'm a lurker which means I don't actually post anything, but I get a kick out of reading everyone else's posts. For those that do what I do, you know that there are fans that post just for the sake of imparting information, like when the next tour is starting, for example. There are also those that post to belong to a community. The latter posters usually want to connect with others out there in the virtual world who share a commonality or just get attention. There are also those that create mindboggling fanfiction in which fictional stories of the subjects of interest are entwined in some bizarre love triangle or perverted situation. I'm not judging here, but sometimes I am amazed at what is created in the anonymity that the internet offers.

One of the sites I go to is a live journal dedicated to Ville Valo. The requirement of this site is that if you post, you must post at least one picture of Ville as well. This talented musician, I have learned since becoming a fan, has a private life that is open to such public scrutiny that I almost feel pity. Some of this has to do with his antics and some just has to do with the fact that the majority of his female fans love discussing who he's dating and why he shouldn't be.

This afternoon, after discovering some fangirl poetry that was written in reaction to news that Ville has recently gotten back together with old flame Jonna Nygren, M and I decided that we need to finally create some sort of emotional poetry of our own in response. As you will see, we've tried to mimic one of the more outstandingly strange posts, but have taken it one step further.

Disclaimer: Don't even think we're being serious here with this poetry. And also, people, what he does in his private life is no concern of ours. And, chances are, he doesn't go anywhere near boards or websites dedicated to worshipping the Ville Valo persona. Let him be with the private life talk, but keep posting the lovely pics 'cos that man's beautiful face has healing powers.;) -K

Untitled K

Die
Die
Die
Die motherfucker
until you know that
Just one look into your eyes
and I want to stab them until you see
the truth [for sooth!]
that I see:
That she doesn’t love you like I do
No one will love you like I do
And I do
And I will
And I do

Untitled M

I pray for
Mercy
For your Vampire Heart
as I cry
a Fortress of Tears
You say join me in Death
as you use
and abuse your
Self
Light another cigarette
as you kill yourself slowly
hate yourself to death
and chase another
who loves you less
than you love yourself.

A Little Drinkie!

So, yesterday after work I headed down to the Pageant to pick up a concert ticket. When I parked my car behind the venue, I was immediately approached by a U City local who asked for some money. I had no cash and honestly could have just said so, but for some reason I decided to start speaking German as though I didn’t understand English. I don’t know- it was just a reflex. It worked, but only after he decided to speak louder to me and held up three fingers to try and communicate what he needed. I’m an idiot.

Can I just say that I always get little butterflies when I walk around The Pageant? Ah, bliss.

After I completed my task, I texted J that I got my ticket. She didn’t reply right away. I knew she was probably absorbing this information. It was a trip to the grocery store, a movie and a meal later when I received a reply via text:

I can’t take it if u become an afi fan.

Look, the ticket I bought yesterday was for the July 30 AFI show. The only reason I’m going is because I want to see these guys for myself before I totally judge. I am not a fan, nor am I in danger of becoming one. However, I know not to be too emphatic about it because the last time I declared my strong resentment for a band my black VW bug ended up with their heartagram sticker on it. J has never been on board with HIM, and well, whatever, that’s FINE!

What cracks me up about receiving this text when I did is that J was out with her brother at a local bar in Indiana watching a band play. It seems a little alcohol was needed before she could reply.

Just for comic relief, I thought I would include a few more texts from J last night that made me smile:

Yeah I wish u were here. A little drinkie!

I’m being shot down for my [musical] taste. But we’re doing shots so its ok now

I’m gonna be so hungover

Anyway, I will go see AFI on July 30 at The Pageant without J who will conveniently be out of town that weekend. A review is guaranteed.