Monday, February 27, 2006

I'm a cookie motherfucker.

This hour is certainly not unfamiliar to me but having tricked my body into only about four hours of sleep last night, it may as well be 6am. Perfect time to write really. In any other state I might write something halfway intelligible or concise and who wants that? I'll stick to my somnambulist prose.

Last night began with RJ, Shalon and the Circus. Although I find the standing Vegas shows a bit more outstanding, the touring companies are still quite spectacular and I've always found the tents to be romantic. Seeing them dropped amidst the cities at the feet of the highrises or glowing, striped, in the industrial outskirts always gives me a strange sense of longing. Please forgive me for sounding a bit silly (and this feeling may very well come from a longtime love for Darks Carnival) but they really seem magical to me - they seem to expound that age old call of "come join the circus." I have very much already done so in a way, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish I could do a triple flip off a giant bed into a handstand on the head board all while avoiding three friends executing the same feat. The performers are amazing. Whenever I witness a show I truly feel I've failed in my role as human being. The things our bodies can do are unbelievable...and by "our bodies" I do mean those of the living super heros who bring cirque du soleil to life. Watching it always brings tears to my eyes, whichever the show. (Last night's event was Corteo.) If one comes near you, you must go. If not, get yourself to vegas sometime. "O" is one of the most amazing shows of any kind that I've ever seen. Ever. Ever in my life. Seriously.
All the performers are painfully hot too, so that doesn't hurt.


After recovering from a bit to much popcorn, RJ, Shalon and I pulled our awestruck selves from out the tents and into their Element to make the trek back home. We were exhausted by the time we arrived. It was midnight. They went to bed. I grabbed the boys and hit the club.

The blacklights set Francis and I aglow. White pants on him and white eyeshadow and polka dots on me allowed for either of us to be spotted by our entourage in any event of separation. Shem and I were the proud recipients of much love from two separate but equally lovely drag queens. New Madonna was in rotation so I was in deep Snoopy form but Millertime (don't judge a man by his name) owned the floor as usual. Sing this Corrosion, and Miller's hurting heart inspired me to give him a brief lap dance while Ms. Charlie made out with an american Golita but inches away. Squoral, dancing just behind us, was too lost in the "sing" choral stabs or he most certainly woulda made one of our duos a trio. All of this with the bonus of seeing the beautiful DJ Adrian and our now ex-Friday-night-radio-show host, Ben, were all part of the good times. Unfortunately I couldn't make it outta the club without encountering some older drunk woman who just wouldn't get her camera out of my unpresentable and sweaty mug, nor without having a slight dancing mishap. I made the mistake of dropping it like it was a bit too hot in some pants that I had never danced in before. I really liked the pants. They are now crotchless pants and though they may be a good look for some, I am not a part of the crotchlessly inclined. I miss those pants.

I drug my sweaty self and my airy pants into the house around three am. I chatted with my dearest Dan a bit and he shared with me a demo of one of his new songs. I heard a bit of Plimsouls and Ned's Atomic Dustbin in my first exposure to The Dear and Departed that morning. I'm certainly looking forward to more and can't wait to see him step up to the frontman position I know he'll naturally own. I fell asleep around five but was unfortunately awakened at nine. I was in the midst of an inexplicable dream where I was laying on a couch with Britney Spears when I heard two identical, haunting noises. They were somewhat similar to the "whoo" an owl makes yet they sounded somehow human. It certainly seemed as if they came from within my room. I have a feeling they were in my head but, either way, I blame this unsettling spectral alarm clock for my current exhaustion....and you may blame it for this writing. Perhaps I need to get me a salt circle around the bed.

and in the mundane... Mr. Sheric D, in his typical late fashion, has stood up his bay area family this evening. I'm quite disappointed as I love his company and have missed it very much since his defection to Portland but I understand. He's been working on something exciting that will bring a bit more of Sheric to everyone - yourselves included. Tommy Love will be having dinner with us all tomorrow. Timmy Stardust still has what it takes (as Valentine's at Mr. Aoki's night made clear). Mr. Adam Carson and I have found ourselves on each other's sides of the bay at the same time, twice this week. It's a shame, I miss that man as well. Sammy had an amazing last show with ABO and I'm looking forward to an amazing show from both the Wolfchild and Mr. Eldritch in the near future. Our beloved Nick 13 is touring with the one and only MOZ ( I need not explain how phenomenal that is) and NYC had best prepare itself for a visit from Ryan Wilson this week. He's gonna make shoes look like candy and I'm sure you'll want to eat them both.

I love the Buff Monster. I'm going to go flirt with that pretty lady from Your Enemies Friends now.



Don't ask why...

DXH

Currently listening :
Either/Or
By Elliott Smith
Release date: By 25 February, 1997

2:41 AM