SuperSatellite ||

Well, a friend of mine pointed out last night she enjoyed reading my blogs because they were funny or entertaining or such.  I forget the actual word used, but being the thesaurus that I am, I was assured it implied  they were enjoyable, if nothing else.  But it got me thinking, that of recent, I’ve become somewhat dry.  At least I think so.  So, this is for you.  Enjoy.

So the concert last night wasn’t bad.  Without going into a full on show review (I don’t do that anymore, SuperSatellite never paid me enough, heh), I will comment briefly.  First, Razorwire Halo.  Well guys….I’ve never heard okay music come from seemingly such little effort.  I mean, if they were much more energetic, they might have fallen asleep on stage.  They weren’t bad, what they did, they did well, they just sounded lazy.  Really it sounded like late gen Manson.  Not that Manson is bad, I loved Antichrist Superstar.  But that’s the thing, I loved Antichrist Superstar.  That album is a decade old.  His new stuff….eh.  And thus Razorwire Halo…eh.  Find a unique sound guys (and gal.  To their credit they did have a hot, however married bass player), and try putting in some real effort and turning down the distortion a little, you’d be surprised.

Muddpuddle Dive wasn’t too bad.  Definately more lively, though that’s not saying much.  Fairly generic Godsmack/Staind type rock.  Worth four sentences at the moment.

The Lonely had a lot more going from them.  I won’t give them much credit in the singing department.  But what they lacked in melodious ramblings, they made up for with enthusiasm.  How this techno rock meshed with an audience that occasionaly let our little 12 year old schoolgirl squeals is beyond me, however.  You’d be listening, nodding to the phat beats yo, and all of the sudden a screeching noise would rise from the front rows like a Backstreet Boy had just snuck up on stage.  I don’t get it.  Then I am reminded that I fear even talking to a girl outside of The Fence without carding them first.  I think the average age outside The Fence is probably fifteen at the oldest.  I felt really bad for the mom in the pink sweater who was clearly only there because she brought a son or daughter to the show.  Kudos for the watching of the kid, but I’m not sure pink ever looked quite so out of place.  Except maybe that one thong I keep in my shelf for the occasional sniffing purposes.  Moving on…

Foxtown is great because they have this big fishpond thingy in the middle.  It’s the most disgusting looking thing in the world.  Camels would look at that water and say “Fuck you, I’d rather just use up my hump and die before drinking that,” then they would spit on your for suggesting such a thing.  Apparently recently they decided to fill it up with toilet bowl coloring, or some similar article, leaving the water blue-green and oily looking.  And the frightening part is that there are actually fish in the water.  Demon fish which have been known to eat spit, cigarettes, paper, severed toes, and anything else they can get into their mouths.  They will fight over these things like pirana, despite a lack of any apparent nutritional value..  Moving on, like any Foxtown regular, I found it to be my duty to find a moment to “feed” the fish.  I spit into the water, I saw them rise to the surface, but they didn’t eat the spit!  The implications are frightening at best.  It is obvious that the combination of nonedible articles, toxic blue water, and human spit has resulted in the fish becoming smarter.  They are making decisions, judging things….plotting.  I for one welcome our new fishy overlords.

The night concluded with dancing at Mooreman’s.  But that, my friends, is a story for another day…But I can say, at least this time, the dancing didn’t end with anyone falling on my penis.