HULK PAINT

August 9, 2010 57 Comments read (f)Art, Projects

On Saturday, I was stood up for a date by my supposed boyfriend. I waited and waited and waited for him to show up at my place, and he wouldn’t have ever even bothered to let me know he wasn’t coming. The only way I found out that he’d ditched me to have dinner with some other chick was because they both posted pictures of THEIR get together on the internet (GEE, IT’S NOT LIKE I EVER CHECK THE INTERNET OR ANYTHING), and full of rage and booze, I ended up painting my shower curtain, which I’d intended to do for some time, anyway.

Before:

After:

It’s pirate-y and pleases me enough so that I don’t feel like I have to shake someone down in the street for the money to buy this insanely overpriced shower curtain. At least, for a while.

I actually haven’t posted any pictures of the pirate bathroom since I moved into this place a year ago, it’s quite different from the last place as I have MUCH less counter space here. So, here’s a quick photo-tour.

Eventually I intend to have changeable phrases for the poster so that guests can switch things up as they like–I’ll get around to it at some point.

Hey there sugar, where ya gonna go? I’m goin’ downtown, Daddy-o.

August 9, 2010 5 Comments read Uncategorized

On Friday, I went to the Rendezvous to help safetymonkey celebrate his thirtieth birthday–the last one before he crumbles into dust and memory like that guy who chose the wrong cup at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. He had rented the private room so we could have a karaoke party, and further requested that we dress to moderately impress. I was glad to have been invited, I hadn’t seen anyone in that group since last year’s Black Barbeque and I was beginning to become concerned that inviting a string of douchebags, one after another, to his parties had been the last straw for my attendance. That wasn’t the case–I hadn’t been able to make it to last year’s Halloween party, and then Jon moved and didn’t have a suitable place to throw the sorts of parties he used to, thus there was no Valloween this year to be invited to, and I just hadn’t gotten my invitation to the new location of the Black BBQ yet for this year. If I bring someone with me to the BBQ this year, I may have to administer a non-douche test beforehand.

Anyhow, I got dressed up fairly fancy, save for the flats that I wore because I didn’t feel like wearing heels–usually if I go out dancing in heels, my legs are messed up for a couple of days which makes it difficult to keep with my exercise routine–besides, MODERATELY impressing people does not call for heels. I was surprised at all the attention I was getting out on the street between the walk from my car to the club, I’m not used to getting looks and having strange men approach me to say hi and it happened a LOT in just a couple of blocks. I don’t know if it was the outfit or the makeup or that I’ve lost weight, but if it’s the latter, it’s only going to serve to increase my cynicism about people’s basic natures. Once there, I also got a “you look really good” from an ex, which is one of the best compliments a girl could receive.

At karaoke, I waited to see what sorts of things people were going to sing, to set a tone for the evening–the last time I sang karaoke with these guys, I was drunk off my ass and delirious from latex fumes so I didn’t want to pick something that was overly strange or out of line with people’s musical tastes.

As soon as Jon borrowed someone’s glasses to sing some Lisa Loeb, I knew I could do whatever I wanted.

I put in The Final Countdown and rocked the hell out of it. It was kind of surreal, entirely unlike any karaoke experience I’d ever had before, because the whole room was singing along and dancing and they cheered and screamed for me in a way I’ve never been cheered for before–it was pretty amazing.

Last call/get the hell out came all too soon, but I was glad that I got the time I did to reconnect with everyone and I can’t wait to see them again in a few weeks at Black Barbeque XI!

WXPFL: HOT LEAD

August 9, 2010 29 Comments read Live Shows, Reviews

On Thursday, Tobie and I attended the World Extreme Pencil Fighting Championships VI: Hot Lead at The Funhouse. Pencil fighting started in the schoolyards, but most experienced pencil fighters dropped the sport upon graduation. Only the truly dedicated went on to the Pro Leagues and risked all for the chance to call themselves champion. Many organizations and leagues formed, each claiming to be home to the real Pencil Fighting Champion…UPF…WCCPFC…WWPFW, but the true fan’s choice and gold standard for Pencil Fighting was always the WPFL. In 1995 longtime WPFL owner Silas Ticonderoga III sold the company to his oldest son Silas Ticonderoga IV, who took it to the “Extreme” and rechristened it WXPFL. This move angered and alienated longtime fans, but opened up pencil fighting to a whole new generation of young fans. These Extreme Pencil Fighters – now called “Gra-fighters” – are now touring the world and bringing the splintered wood and bloody knuckles of Pro Pencil Fighting straight to you! In these matches, Pro Gra-Fighters take on each other and some randomly-selected audience members for the highly-coveted Pencil Fighting Championship Trophy.

In pencil fighting, two challengers face off, each armed with a regulation wooden pencil taken from a factory-sealed pack. The only recognized regulation competition pencil is the Dixon/Ticonderoga #2 yellow – graphite core, cedar shaft, latex eraser with aluminum stay.

The pencil may not be sharpened or altered in any way prior to initial combat.

A Pink Pearl Eraser flip determines which fighter strikes first.

The loser of the eraser flip becomes the “Defender” and holds his or her pencil firmly with both hands in a horizontal position.

The winner of the eraser flip becomes the “Striker”, and then brings his pencil down in a vertical strike across the opponent’s pencil with full force, attempting to break it in two.

If the Defender’s pencil does not break from the Striker’s attempt, then it becomes the Defender’s turn to strike.

This repeats until one player’s pencil breaks in two and cannot continue.

If a pencil is cracked, but not fully broken in two, referee determines whether said pencil can continue.

The current WXPFL Champion “Balls Deep” Brian Chesbrough was suspended by WXPFL Officials for using a body-enhancing steroid OTHER than WXPFL Sponsor Buff Nuxx. So, WXPFL owner Silas Ticonderoga IV has vacated the title, and now the tournament was a direct shot at the championship…if the most dangerous pros in the business can be beaten!

There is a lot of crossover in this league from Seattle’s other extreme sport, SST: Ronald McFondle, Big Show, etc. There are even MORE theatrics in Extreme Pencil Fighting, however. The first competitors, the Asshole Brothers, came out to loud boos from the audience–they whipped out pencils from their too-tight pants, broke them, and flung them at the audience. I myself was struck in the vulnerable right boob with a shattered pencil from one of the Assholes. Real danger abounds around every corner in this club. I should consider myself lucky that I took a pencil to the chest as opposed to the lit incense that was chucked out into the crowd.

Two Assholes entered the ring, and only one Asshole left: the remaining Asshole was moved into the next bracket toward the championship. After the Asshole Brothers came Ronald McFondle, who has also taken up MCing in addition to flashing his balls at the audience. He performed a number about fisting his clown hos with the current Top Pot Donut Eating Champion, and then got down to the business of fighting with the first audience member: benzarius.

Somehow, Ben ended up with a crotch full of clown paint and a broken pencil.

The next match was the Yellow Dragon versus the Librarian, in which the Librarian was victorious.

Then came Big Show vs the next audience member, who dubbed himself the Annihilator, I believe.

The Annihilator…annihilated Bill Bates, and then it was time for one more audience volunteer to take on the Hundred Dollar Man.

That volunteer was me.

I stepped onto the stage, informed everyone that I was a dildo barbarian, carefully selected my pencil, which was then inspected by the judges, lost the eraser toss, and held out my pencil for the first strike. It was broken on the very first strike. The referee said he’s actually never seen that happen before, which are words that I am sadly getting used to hearing. It’s my family curse. “I’ve never seen that happen before!” Yeah, buddy? Stick around.

The Hundred Dollar Man eventually went on to win the championship, so I don’t feel as badly about my loss. The swag bag I got for participating helped ease that sting as well. Plus now I have two new classy shirts to wear should I ever have occasion to throw another White Trash Extravaganza.

All of the good photos are by someone other than me who I fully intend to credit when I find out their name. If it is you, please tell me and I will credit immediately, or remove your photos, whichever you would prefer. All of the shitty ones are me or someone with my phone.