What the Fuck Should I Do Tonight: Pumpkin Spice Douchebag Edition!

It's fall. Feels good, right? But here's a thing. I want you to know this. Don't drink pumpkin spice shit. It's so bad for you. Did you know refined sugar is basically crack, the people in charge of telling us how to be healthy have known that for, like, ever, but the people who make money from sugar were like WE CAN PUT THIS IN EVERYTHING AND MAKE HARD BANK, SLUTS!! so they paid a bunch of scientists to be like, LOOK OVER THERE, NOTHING TO SEE HERE! so now sugar is in fucking everything and you can't get away from it? 

On top of how much goddam sugar is in a fucking pumpkin spice asshole, there's all the fake flavoring, coloring, binding and stabilizing agents, and it's ridiculously cheap to make and they sell it to you for like a kajillion dollars. What do those things even cost now, do you need to take a fucking mortgage out to afford one?! 

Look, here's what you do. Go to Trader Joe's. Buy one of those big dumb canisters of coffee beans they have. Then go to Whole Foods and fill a bulk bottle with B grade maple syrup. I know, but it's cheaper than buying pre-bottled maple syrup. Great, you're halfway there. Now, go to Hannaford's and go to the Latin foods section and go to the spices. All that Badia shit. It's like a third of the price of white people spices even though it's the exact same product because, I don't know, why is that? Because white people like bland food so they don't care if they have to pay $5 for cloves because they'll have those cloves forever? Whatever. Buy yourself some fucking ginger, cinnamon, and either nutmeg or allspice. Now swing by the fridge section and get some fucking half and half. Get Oakdale shit, they have solar panels on their distribution center and all of their trucks run on waste-oil-produced biodiesel made in Portland. They actually give a shit about this town, is what I'm telling you. Ok, now take all that shit home, brew the coffee - and brew it strong don't be a goddam pussyfooting lillydick about it, load that brew basket up with them grounds - put some fucking maple syrup in it, add your spices and fucking add the half and half. If you want foam just shake the half and half before you put it in your delicious as fuck and way more healthy pumpkin spice dildo, but seriously, tho, foam? Be a man, jesus christ. Anyway, you have just successed yourself with hot drinks. Stave off that diabetes, save a couple bucks and potentially impress people you want to fuck or just finished fucking with your goddam mad pumpkin spice skillz. 

Then put some rum or some shit in it BECAUSE IT'S THE WEEKEND, YA DICKS!


Before you go out, you can swing by Lincoln Park for a protest and self defense course.  Take Back the Streets is organized by Prevention.Action.Change who are doing the good work of helping the vulnerable populations of Portland learn how to protect ourselves, trust our instincts, increase awareness and build a safer community. It’s pretty fucking incredible. Later in the month they have another self defense class at my beloved Hustle & Flow. This isn’t just for women or trans people or anyone who is at a heightened risk of violence - hetero cis men, I encourage you to join us out here and see what we have to go through to protect ourselves and show your support for self-empowerment. Women having power doesn’t make straight men weaker, it makes everyone stronger. Think about what we’d be capable if we all stopped being terrified of one another and started trusting and working together. That’s some age of Aquarius shit right there, boo.

Hard bitches setting your ass straight. 

Hard bitches setting your ass straight. 

Alright, anyway, after that the Mallett Brothers are at Bissell Brothers! You should take your brother and go see this show, then go home and watch O, Brother Where Art Thou? And then go get fitted for a Brooks Brothers suit! And, uh… then print  out your resume on your Brother printer! I’m done, I got nothing else.


Enjoy this live video of The Mallet Brothers. 

Later in the evening, Dark Hollow Bottling Company is releasing their new album at Blue.

Geno’s has Port City Saints, Zukie Fury, Sonic Libido, The Runouts and Hogan’s Alley all for $5. I only know the Saints, and this is, you guessed it, a punk show.

Speaking of punk and aggressive music though, Preacher’s Fire is now going online so you don’t have to track it down if you can’t find it in the real world. I suggest you do, I’ve been collecting them because the sweet af screen printed art is worth having, but if you just need a show listing and can’t find one, go here. Plus they also cover cool stuff that I don’t. They don’t realize this, but we’re basically working as partners, because I say we are.

And no, I will not stop hanging from a tree outside your window with my infrared goggles on. How else will I be able to watch you sleep?

And no, I will not stop hanging from a tree outside your window with my infrared goggles on. How else will I be able to watch you sleep?

Viva is at Urban Farm Fermentory for their Harvest Moon Dance. I always get a kick out of people who comment on fb invites that they can’t make it to an event, and post a reason why, like anyone gives a shit. “Wish I could be there, but I have such a great life that your event is dead to me!” Who are you, again? I mean I’m just saying that if you were so close to the organizers that they’d notice if you weren’t there, you’d have their cell phone number and could just text them. Or like, PM them. So. Here’s a thing, then, that we’ve just discovered: no need to ever comment in a fb event that you can’t make it. Because it is dumb and wrong.

They are showing Jurassic World on the prom tonight, how charming.

Plague is happening in the sports bar again. I can’t even with this.

Years go by, Dark Rain, Mile 22 and Enlightened Strangelink at Live at 212. Serious question: why haven’t I ever heard of any of the bands that play this venue? Is there an entirely different, sequestered circle of southern Maine bands that play just 15 minutes away but never breach the perimeter of the city? If so, why? New York had a thing like that, like Long Island bands often never made it onto the island of Manhattan or anywhere really farther into Queens than a couple of miles, but traffic and tolls are a nightmare so I get that. But why are you scared of us, BANDS OF WESTBROOK? Come closer, we don’t bite!

Unless you are mean/self-important/racist/misogynist. Or a bunch of sheltered white dudes making “reggae.” Or maybe you’re all of those things, I don’t know!  Then I will bite you, verbally, quite hard. COME AT ME G_________ F________ D___ B____!!!

Flask has Friction Fridays, which is their dnb/jungle night, and Salvage has Jerks of Grass.  

Alright lastly but not leastly, The Red F are releasing their new album Balm of Gilead at SPACE tonight. The Red F is Tim Burns and Jacob Chamberlain from Phantom Buffalo, along with Vince Nez. It’s folk music, I guess, but it’s so much more than that. I reviewed this album for Dispatch, so I’m not going to tell you what I thought of it here because that would be dumb. However, I can tell you that I am going to go to this show, and you know that means something since I’m basically living in self-imposed solitary confinement because life is terrible and HAIL SATAN.  

They’re doing the second annual Queen tribute night and everyone else was smart enough not to really book anything to compete with that, so it’s kind of slow out there. Oh, also by “they” I  mean Sean Slaughter and his Queen Tribute band Master Stroke. This is at PCMH. Fun, right! Maybe I’ll go and try to find me somebody to love.   

This amazing house party for Mayo Street Arts is a thing I’d go to if I weren’t spending all my money prepping for Sacred and Profane and also inexplicably getting my Christmas shopping done early.  I just don’t have $50. But if you do, you might consider it.  

Rustic Overtones, a band who has clearly invested in the best skin creams money can buy, is down in Biddeford tonight at the River Jam Festival

There’s some other stuff, Blue has Jazz, Salvage has King Day’s New Imperials, Thirsty Pig has some patio jams earlier in the day, and Dogfish has nothing listed on its calendar. I was at Dogfish last night and there was some dude there talking loudly at the bar about how Dogfish makes no money and it’s their catering business that keeps the bar open and afloat. Since this guy was SUCH AN INSIDER and KNEW WHAT WAS UP, he was totally 100% sure that the bar is always empty and loses money every time there’s a band there because nobody shows up and nobody drinks there.

I fucking hate people like that.

I’ve been having this issue lately: I’m a woman, and was raised to be polite and unobtrusive, particularly in situations where some drunken blowhard is talking out of his ass about shit he doesn’t know about, and even if he did, it’s fucking private. The financial situation of a small business is GODDAM PRIVATE. Have some class, you fucking Artie-Fuffkin-on-crack-looking motherfucker. But even though I’m supremely irritated by this Hard Anus, I don’t say anything. Maybe a little shade, an eyeroll, a sideways glance at my buddy. But no actual words. Why? WHY. I’m so annoyed at myself. I have to learn how to do it Ouiser Boudreaux style a la Steel Magnolias.

OK anyway, have a good weekend, and watch out early next week for HOT TRASH: HAUNT!, my compendium of excellent Halloween shit. I love you, you know what, so hard, I love you so hard, because I wanna be good for you, I didn’t mean to be bad, but darlin’ I’m still the best that you ever had, just give me a chance to let me show you how much I wanna give you my love touch.

Love Touch.