A rant that could only have been written by someone old and unhip.

Yesterday, I went to see Rasputina at Neumos. The last time I’d seen them perform was nearly a decade ago on Halloween, when my boyfriend absolutely refused to drive up from DC to join me at Dracula’s Ball, we had a huge fight about it, I decided to go anyway, took the train, got off at the wrong stop, got lost in a very bad area of Philadelphia where it’s probably a miracle I didn’t get stabbed, and I ended up getting a ride back to campus from some stranger in vampire teeth, but that’s a story for another time. Wait, that’s pretty well the whole story.

My intent was to see Rasputina; Rasputina was the band I’d paid for the ticket to see. I’m merely attempting to clarify why I was in the area, and therefore express my utter bewilderment that on a weeknight, with doors opening at 8, somehow the band I’d paid to see did not go onstage until after 11pm, forcing me to miss the majority of the show as I have to get up for work at an ungodly hour in the morning and cannot drag myself in dysfunctional or late, particularly when the boss’ boss is in town. Had I still been taking the bus to and from the city, I would have missed them entirely, stuck with only the miserable experience of the godawful opening bands. And I do mean GODAWFUL.

The first band was ‘The Curious Mystery’. This band should be renamed to “Jesus on Bass with Dude on Sitar while Token Female Yowls and Performs a Pee-Pee Dance”. The three male musicians were competent, which is the absolute nicest thing I can say. Singing off-key and incomprehensibly while you pose dramatically like a stork and play some manner of electric zither does not make you edgy. For the record, you suck. Also, can someone tell me WTF instrument this is? It is some manner of keyboard with a tube attached, and it was played vigorously in a pee-pee dance fashion, yet I could not discern what sound it was actually making.

The second band was Larkin Grimm, whose music I could have enjoyed had they not played their entire goddamned back catalog and had an obnoxious rambling explanation for what EVERY song was about before it was played. “This song is about when you clean your cat’s litterbox and the worms crawl into your brain.” “This song is about walking your dog and thinking about death, only your dog is smarter than you and you meet a butcher.” “This song is about an alien cat god from outer space.” “This song is about sex and decapitation except it’s actually about Iranian poets and let me go into a backstory on that.” “This song is about a bodily fluid, guess which one? I’m addressing all of the under 21 year olds in this 21-and-up audience, gosh I sure hope some kids snuck in with fake ids.” They went on in this fashion, I can’t even remember the rest. I believe I began to block them out, though I expect that had I listened, I would have heard “This song is about a clown murderer who turns out to be your stepfather only not really because he takes off that mask, too, and it’s actually your one true unicorn love who is full of the light of the song of the colors you can’t remember.” YOU ARE NOT ON VH1’S BEHIND THE FUCKING MUSIC, LADY. SHUT UP. GET OFF THE STAGE.

Finally, FINALLY, at quarter after elevenish, Rasputina finally, FINALLY got onstage. Except whatever dillhole was running the ‘stop the audience from getting restless’ overhead music just kept going. Eventually the band had to tap the mic and say “Yes, hello? We are ready to perform.”

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It’s a shame that the stage was set up in such a way that I could not see Melora at ALL.

It was at this point, the annoying goth contingency began to press against me. I should not have to explain to someone standing behind me that my pockets are for my personal use. Also, look, Seattle Goths: It is not ‘goth’ to neglect personal hygiene. I understand, your mind is consumed with more important things, the futility of life, the fleeting nature of love, how much longer the sale is running on black hair dye, but seriously, brushing your teeth and putting on some deodorant won’t kill you. The tooth brushing, in fact, may help prevent heart disease, so you can continue annoying people, lo, with your very darkness, for years to come. You’re welcome. Come back sometime. We’ll talk about eyeliner and its proper application. And then we can talk about how you’re trying much too hard to be ‘spooky’ and your strict conformity to non-conformity. Whoa man, like, the establishment is freaked out by your dark nature. But mostly your lack of deodorant.

I got to hear only a few songs before I had to leave to go home. I don’t really feel that I got my money’s worth because I didn’t get to see the show I paid to see. I should have stayed at Po Dog and continued to eat fried pickles until I exploded; at least that would have been satisfying. In MY day, if we didn’t like the music the bard was playing, we would have stoned him outside in yon courtyard and ’twas a better place for it.

My house looks like a goddamn werewolf!

Saturday, I intended to hang around home and chill out since I was out late on Thursday and was so busy on Friday and I had plans for Sunday as well–plus, given that this week had been turned into a five day workweek due to a corporate inventory audit (AAAAAARGH) as opposed to my usual four, I knew I would need to relaxbe lazy as much as possible when I had the opportunity.

I spent the majority of the day falling asleep watching Babylon 5, and would likely have wasted the entire day in that manner had I not received a text message from a friend saying she was in the area and would I like to meet for dinner at the Indian place that is going to be the death of me? Yes. Yes, I would. I seriously don’t even care if I die with veins pumped full of tikka masala because it will have been worth it, damn it.

After stuffing my face with entirely too much food, we went to the nearby cheapy theater and saw “Get Him to the Greek”, which completely defied my expecations based on the trailer (“Oh, that looks painfully stupid.”) and was actually very funny and entertaining, which was extra surprising since I didn’t care for “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” at ALL. I also clued into the fact that my period is rapidly approaching, because I almost cried near the end, and really, the only time the imaginary problems of the attractive affect me that much is when my blood is chock full of hormones.

And chicken tikka.

P.S. How is it that Russell Brand is so utterly disgusting and yet so attractive at the same time? Like that thing about Tootsie Pops, the world may never know.

Alllways I want to beee with you and make belieeeve with youuu and live in harmony, harmony OH LOVE

On Thursday, Kiki and I were supposed to go to Bearaoke at The Cuff, but stopped in at The Unicorn for a prefunk and ended up having so much fun that we stayed there. We eventually wandered over to The Cuff, but were so late that we missed everyone. Kiki introduced me to her friend who had changed his middle name to Megatron, whose mortal enemy, Optimus Prime, is friends with my friend shadowstitch, because we live in a very, very small world.

The Unicorn may well become my new favorite Seattle bar, home to many pieces of ironic taxidermy, circus food, and light shows made far more entrancing with the ‘Unicorn Dumb Eyes’ they hand out. Wearing them made me want to sing Erasure. Wearing them outside after drinking too much Unicorn Jizz made me want to prance out into pretty, pretty traffic with its pretty, pretty headlights.

We finished out the evening at the Wildrose, where it was sadly NOT Tuesday so there was a very sad lack of tacos, but there were some cheap drink specials which more than made up for it. We’re thinking about making Night at the Unicorn a regular thing, with glitter and feather boas and ironic taxidermy hats. Yes? YES.