Saturday, August 24, 2002

also bizzare/opressive was, near the end of the show, he was talking about coming back, and staying for like 2 weeks or something, and this girl, in the back, is like "yeah this is a great club, isn't it" but for like 30 seconds, there was some back and forth, you know. and it was this very girl who 20 minutes earlier had climbed over the back wall of the club, like in the back, in the smoking area outside, it's 10 feet tall probably, and she climbed over it, and broke it, the wall, but got in.

Friday, August 23, 2002

i feel weird about going to see jonathan richman 3 nights in a row. especially because i ended up standing in approximately the same place at/near the front each night. like i was becoming one of those creepy guys that goes to shows alot and stares and is greasy and shit. i don't want to become one of those guys.

it was also a bizzare night. the other two shows were pretty laid back, fun, and not really really crowded or really really hot. which is weird becuse all 3 sold out.

anyway dengue fever opened. i think they set the bizzare/opressive tone for the evening:
1) just before they started to play, one of the afforementioned guys (greasy, wearing all black but not in a stylish way, more a stagehand/programmer sort of way, long hair to shoulders but badly balding, did i mention greasy?, alone, sweating, and with a multi-pack of earplus that he's had and reused since 1987) comes up and stands directly in between the group of 4 people I was part of, and we have to look at each other and sort of mouth to each other "hey should i come over there, do you want to come over here?" for a bit, and it took a while to decide my group of two would join the other group of two to this guy's right, on the side of the stage, and he deffinitely noticed, and i think he got offended in the quiet "i know i'm creepy but i didn't think i was so creepy that you'd move away" sort of way, but dude, if you're reading this, I'm sorry, but you were pretty creepy.

2. it was a pretty tall crowd. i have no way to explain this. maybe it's because the dengue fever bassist is like 6'8" and he's part of a tall pride support group that comes out to see him every show. i don't know. but i'm short, and i ended up directly behind one of 5 or 6 people there that were above 6 feet. tallness is not bad in this context, just weird.

3. the singer for dengue fever is an incredibly attractive vietnamese girl.. she looks like an erotic ceramic doll. maybe this is why the front 3 rows of the crowd were all sketchy guys by themselves. including one guy directly in front who must have taken 150 pictures during the 40 minute set. like this band was breaking news and he worked for life magazine and was going to get an award for photojournalism because one of those shots would be perfect. but no he was just creepy standing there going 'click''click''click''click''click''click''click''click''click''click' the entire fucking time.

so jonathan richman goes on. the weird/opressive atmosphere continues:

4. it's really hot....and really packed. so everyone's so close together that it's difficult to clap during or after songs or even get into it at all. so people are reduced to standing and staring. weirdly quiet, and opressively hot and quiet. at times.

5. one of the aforementioned tall guys behind me was alternately heckling jonathan or singing all the words pretty poorly to his songs. wierd that he'd do both, opressive because he did it the whole time, and it was also pretty quiet in there (see above, and also it was an acoustic performance in a small space so it was naturally quiet so people could hear, so everyone could hear him going off, and everyone knew that jonathan could hear him going off, and at least i felt bad for mr. richman, and i bet other people did too).

more later.

Wednesday, August 21, 2002

on saturday night a tarot card reader told me that i should keep writing. that that's where my money will come from and that i would get published. this was out of the blue and not in response to a particular question. she also told me that i would soon have an affair with a married woman with strawberry-blonde hair. and that it would be fun and i should go for it.

this was at a party where, as soon as i got there, there was a wet t-shirt contest, with 80% really, really unattractive contestants, and about halfway through the girl next to me turns around to the guy tending bar and screams "Dad! Don't Look!" It was his daughter's turn. another daughter of his was also in the contest. he turned away then as well.

Monday, August 19, 2002

new less-tits background, workers.

new fake blog.

new job? i just found out that the powers that be at the company i work for isn't going to hire anyone permanantly at my position for a while. I am a temp and my position is dues-payer/production-assistant/bottom of the totem pole. and they've been telling me since the end of june that they were going to hire me on. it would have meant a raise, which i need badly, and benefitts, which i can't even spell because i never have had them. so back looking for a new job i go. fuck.

still broke from vegas. this sucks.

tetris is so unrealistic.

so here are a few things.

first off if you click on the 'flying rebholz' picture below you go to the vegas pictures.

second, does my new post-apocalyptic-erotic background mean that you feel weird reading this page at work? if yes, let me know and I'll change it to something with less tits.

third, doesn't being a blockhead and misinterpreting your alarm clock usually lead to more sleep and being less responsible? i pulled into work this morning, then looked at the clock in my car. i was a full hour early, somehow. i checked my cell phone. yup, a full hour early. what the fuck. i don't remember doing anything weird to my alarm clock. . i just managed, somehow, to only look at the last two digits of every single clock i looked a this morning between getting up and pulling into the parking lot. at least i've gon from being a complete bum who's late for everything to a completel nucklehead who's really responsible. or something. i'm tired. i need more sleep, like say one more hour, and i'd be feeling great.

happy fucking monday, people.