Ass rash and neck thrash
I'm feeling like the definition of procrastination...
So, I'm getting behind on some homework, delaying the much-needed cleaning of my room after laundry day and not writing as much as I should, aswell. As you can see here, there isn't much available yet. And who is reading? No one that I know of yet but I am determined to keep writing, it's what I do, so it shouldn't be that hard but oh well. I browsed around the U of S people on here and left some comments on a few interesting journals, maybe they'll check me out.
Anyway, as for the title of this entry... I usually don't compromise the intent /content for the rhyme but it seemed appropriate this time. Just for humour sake really. Something to lend the crappy day a sense of justice and something to laugh about. I thought of the name when I was walking home from The Holly Springs Disaster show... I was excited to come home and write this entry and then grew too tired and sore by the time I got to my room and so I abondoned it until now.
I had a pretty good couple days before the show and was really looking forward to seeing The Holly Springs Disaster but for some reason, the day of the (gong) show, was a kick in the nuts, really. But I've decided that in celebration and in the spirit of the those two good and all too rare days before the show, that I would not let the small stuff get at me as much as it used to and so far it hasn't. I mean, That was a shitty day and I am about to rant about it but I'm still ok with it. It was just a shitty day and it didn't really darken my mood that much as those days usually do.
On that day, I had finally decided to get the other side of my lip pierced and the appointment was set and I was pumped. After class I headed down to Schmata and got it done and only upon my arrival home, noticed that it was actually through my lip. Not below it. She fucked it up and it was really noticable and not where I wanted it at all. I felt like a dick for not noticing right away in the shop and went downtown right before the show and got her to take it out and we scheduled an appointment for a re-pierce. (Which was yesterday and it looks good so far, let's hope it doesn't float.)
So, after she took it out, I walked the few short blocks to The Bassment and nervousness and excitement began to build. I hadn't been to a show in about two years. Concerts, yes but not shows. I was pretty sure I wouldn't know anyone there and for some reason, I knew I'd feel quite akward because I was really only there for THSD and most likely would remain seated for the other performances unless they really caught my attenion. Within entering the vicinty I felt immediate nostalgia arise along with discomfort. As I looked around the room, everything had changed. Not much in the physical aspect of the venue but the people and attitudes. I remembered a place where even if I didn't go to a show with people, I always saw people I knew or people that were at least approachable... My thought was that I must be getting old. It used to be about being unique and indivuality within creativity, embracing oneself and uniting with others that do like-wise. Unity and knowing that the majority of people were there for the same reasons as you. The love of music and getting together with creative, unique individuals. What I had entered was a mockery of that. The initial shock was enough to mute me and let me take my place, seated. Besides the horrid people that called themselves an, "audience", one of the bands didn't even show up and the two sets that I had to mentally drag myself through both had technical problems that tested my patience. During this time I bought a T-shirt which turned out to be too small for my comfort. (Concert sizes are always fucked up.)
Finally, my moment had arrived. Bears Attack limped off the stage with their tales betwen their legs and now it was time for the big boys to show their shit. I took a defensive stance up front and noticed that a guitarsist was missing. This was not good... It seems that he broke his hand in some misfortunate round of horseplay earlier in the tour and they would play the show as a four-piece which greatly limited their already limited song selection. They played four songs in total and one was a cover. The headlining band only played four songs... What the band lacked in a second guitarist, they made up in the intensity of the remaining one. (Guy, is fucking nuts.) During the last song I ended up on stage with about four or five others, needless to say that THSD fucking rocked the spot and showed those who already didn't know who's who, who really was who. (Did you get that? I don't know if I did...) At the end of the short-lived performance, there was a call for an encore at which, Froh responded with saying there was no way they could and that they would be back in a couple weeks and would then play all their material. Had I known that to begin with, I truly wouldn't have gone. I really did have other things I could have been doing. Oh well...
As for ass- rash and neck thrash... The title was conjured because of me reflecting on how my body couldn't keep up with me anymore and how sore I was from really letting loose on those sorely indiviuals who never saw it coming. Oh and the fact that some girl had not-so-subtlely grabbed my ass before the first song even played. I never did find out who it was, frankly, I don't want to know, who know's where that hand's been. I guess that's where the first part of the title was from... And no, I don't have ass rash. I don't even know what it is but I find it amusing. Wow, this was quite the rant, shit. I just fell in love.
