GREETINGS PERVERTS! HAHAHA don’t even try to hide from me I know you spent all morning on Tumblr looking at some SUPER SPECIFIC porn page about, like, ciswomen who… wear cat ears and then get… sprayed by a garden hose filled with goulash before, like, fucking your neighbor with an egglplant while you watch and finger your own butt. RIGHT? Yeah, I know. And you were late to work because you jerked off like four times.
My point is not to share how disgusting I am… wait, no, maybe it is. Am I turning into some kind of mental exhibitionist? I might be. Maybe I’ve been one THIS WHOLE TIME. SHE’S CALLING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE!
Ok, folks, wow. I just referenced the Bud Ice penguin.
I’ll see myself out.
No but anyway my point is not that the whole goddam world is fucking burning down around me and there is no future and nothing matters and I’m about to have to stand on bread lines despite the fact that, like, all of my peers are married with children and big houses and perfect lives and lawns that they maintain and wives who can afford Lululemon without having a fucking job and husbands who wear Banana Republic and coach soccer teams and secretly vote for Trump and somehow I’m over here being smarter than all of them with a pretty good education but like, instead of SUCCESS I ended up depressed, lonely, isolated, terrified and broke AND DESPITE ALL THAT, STILL the only thing I really want to figure out in life is how to get some idiot to fuck me properly? I mean, like… we’re OLD now, guys. Can you not… are you still really fucking like you’re in high school?
You’ve heard that women can have orgasms right? Like, somewhere along the line between having to find old damp porn magazines your cousin hid in the woods and waking up every day to your phone’s AI reminding you cheerfuly that it’s time for your balls to perform their daily internet-induced expulsion of unused genetic detritus, THANK YOU ALEXA ALL HAIL OUR NEW OVERLORD JEFF BEZOS AND HIS ARMY OF TRAINED CEPHALOPODS, you probably read somewhere that sex really isn’t just for your dick, right, and that vaginas aren’t made of bulletproof fiberglass and maybe you should stop jamming your hands and other stuff in there with the same force that it takes to expel a SpaceX rocket from the fucking earth’s atmosphere? Like… you know you’re not trying to punch through the wall of a sweet vagine, right?
I don’t think you know. I’m a slut I have proof.
I know, I know. The Patriarchy. He did you dirty, I get it, all of this is just to keep us women unhappy and silent and consuming rapidly to fuel the economy. We’re so scaarrryyyyy ooohhhhh!!!! Those boobs are weapons! But, truly, boys… here you go, and you’re welcome in advance: make out, do a little bit of stuff (SLOW DOWN IT ISN'T A RACE), and then when you finally get in there and peel the old drawers off and you’re eye level with the grand gilded double doors of Fuckingham Palace OR the elevator doors from The Shining depending on what week of the month it is, stop what you’re doing and say this: “Baby, tell me what to do.”
Trust THIS, she’ll be dickmatized for the rest of your life, so I hope you like restraining orders, douchebag. You’re a fucking idiot. Yes, all of you. If we fucked, I probably have, like, zero respect for you. I’m a real bro that way.
*vomits forcefully into a bucket marked “self hatred”*
Good lord. I am deeply troubled. And here I was just getting angry at men for acting like they’re in high sch….. *vomits again*
*wipes mouth with shirt sleeve*
ANYWAY, SO ANYWAAAAYYYYYYYYY THAT is not my point.
IT REALLY SOUNDS LIKE MY POINT DOESN’T IT. Lol, it might end up being the point. Life! It’s so unpredictable!
My point, truly, is that there is just something for everyone, you know? And THAT, my friends, is the message I want you to carry with you into this weekend as it appears that our wee hamlet of Portland has come back to life after the soul-crushing cold of last week with a well-stocked arsenal of shows.
Seriously, though. Y’all need a workshop or something. Like, some kind of thing where you go to a multipurpose room at a community college and a woman named Gail with a tie dyed muumuu and super long gray hair demonstrates the art of touch on a stuffed toy cervix she named “Trixie,” and then her husband Bucky is her “special guest” to demonstrate foreplay for the group.
Happy weekend, everyone, fuck more consensually, practice makes perfect and being scared because of #metoo and #timesup is not how we should be reacting to replace negativity with positivity. Anyway.
Friday January 19
Tonight Weakened Friends, TheWorst, Crystal Canyons and Crunchcoat are at PCMH. They’re all local bands fronted by women, and they made this promo video for it, which made me feel very uncomfortable the first few times I watched it and now… now I can’t stop watching it. Look how miserable Sonia and Brooke look and look how participatory and enthusiastic Lynda, Danny and Annie look. Also the Hollywood star pillow. Also Brooke’s bizarre attempt at “normal” pajamas. Also the fucking fortune teller that someone spent SO MUCH time on. AND WHO’S BASEMENT IS THAT!?!?! It’s my favorite thing in the world. Please you to enjoy with me. I can't embed it, but here's a link:
Plague has their Midwinter Masquerade Ball downstairs at Aura. Still so confused as to why Plague, a party that plays host to so many in the sexpos community, hasn’t found a new place for their dance. Yeah there’s the whole Alex Grey thing but also, like Aura just has the worst vibe. And you have to like, meander out through the fucking sports bar in your kilts and fucking black nail polish and shit, like… why not a different room? Ok anyway. Upstairs at Aura they have a Rolling Stones cover band.
Hella Good Tacos, the restaurant that by virtue of me not working near it anymore no longer torments me on a daily basis by being totally awesome or frustratingly terrible depending on what day and time you visit, is back on the concert game with 10801, Daisybones and Shwill.
Pardon Me, Doug is at PHOME. Also this facebook events reads like it was written by Yakov Smirnoff working on new material during the height of his career in 1987. “What is this “live phish”? In Soviet Russia, fish use bait to catch YOU! WHAT A COUNTRY!!!!”
Saturday January 20
Oxbow has another of their killer dance parties with DJ Hi Duke, Deep Cuts.
The Devil Makes Three and The Huntress and Holder of Hands are at the State Theatre.
Ja Rule is at Aura. Seems a fitting venue to go ask for you money back for that stupid Fyre Festival he put on last summer.
The Andrew Bailie Double Trio (so… like, six people then?), Beards and Bootstrap Cannonball are at PHOME. Jungle Bell Hop dance party is at Bayside Bowl. The Keeper Class, No Good, Gant and Random Ideas are at Geno’s.
Ben Caplan is at OLS. He looks like hipster Matisyahu.