So, here is a piece from the Gottfried Helnwein exhibit that nearly knocked me off my feet. If I had the $90000 that was being asked for it, I would have dropped the money right there. When I stopped to look at this piece I felt like I had stepped sideways out of time; it was like seeing a perfect dichotomy. Terror and beauty, love and hatred, everything right and everything wrong. It was like I was a stringed instrument and it was playing me with a meat hook.



Went to a show at Bottom of the Hill last night. Girl Band (pretty damn good), Black Furies (good rock & roll, if a little Turbo A.C.'s derivative... standard Gearhead label band), and Helle's Belle's, an all-girl AC/DC cover band that rocked. The chick who played the Angus role was fucking crazy. A good time, if a little annoyingly crowded. Having a camera gear bag slung behind you is a recipe for trouble in a space that tight. Every asshole who wanted to muscle by me got caught on it and started dragging me along for the ride. I had to tell one jackass what I would do to him outside after the show if he didn't stop spilling his fucking beer all over me. His eyes got wide & he moved on quick. Suggesting that you'll do things to someone that would make Jesus feel like he got off easy and impressing upon them the fact that you have no moral qualms about doing those things to them is usually a good way to get someone to fuck off in a hurry. It's not that I'm unwilling to make concessions in a crowded space, but when he's being an asshole + hanging around next to you + spilling shit all over you and laughing about it, my patience runs out quickly.

On another note, I finally got a bed. Now I just need to get someone to deliver it for me.

So, here is a piece from the Gottfried Helnwein exhibit that nearly knocked me off my feet. If I had the $90000 that was being asked for it, I would have dropped the money right there. When I stopped to look at this piece I felt like I had stepped sideways out of time; it was like seeing a perfect dichotomy. Terror and beauty, love and hatred, everything right and everything wrong. It was like I was a stringed instrument and it was playing me with a meat hook.



Went to a show at Bottom of the Hill last night. Girl Band (pretty damn good), Black Furies (good rock & roll, if a little Turbo A.C.'s derivative... standard Gearhead label band), and Helle's Belle's, an all-girl AC/DC cover band that rocked. The chick who played the Angus role was fucking crazy. A good time, if a little annoyingly crowded. Having a camera gear bag slung behind you is a recipe for trouble in a space that tight. Every asshole who wanted to muscle by me got caught on it and started dragging me along for the ride. I had to tell one jackass what I would do to him outside after the show if he didn't stop spilling his fucking beer all over me. His eyes got wide & he moved on quick. Suggesting that you'll do things to someone that would make Jesus feel like he got off easy and impressing upon them the fact that you have no moral qualms about doing those things to them is usually a good way to get someone to fuck off in a hurry. It's not that I'm unwilling to make concessions in a crowded space, but when he's being an asshole + hanging around next to you + spilling shit all over you and laughing about it, my patience runs out quickly.

On another note, I finally got a bed. Now I just need to get someone to deliver it for me.