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Quick one today, since I'm due in Seattle in just over an hour.

I've got chocolate in my hair and a welt the size of a pack of playing cards on my right thigh.

Yesterday at work was interesting. I started trying to knock things down, but learning Crystal Reports on the fly doesn't involve much knocking of anything in any direction--let alone the desired down. Hot Marketing Girl came and visited me and setup camp in my office for a little while. Despite this and the fact that she literally danced in, I'm not sure what's going on. She's attached after all. I'm a strict "don't shit where you eat" kind of guy anyway.

I bailed out of work early to head for the pre-burlesque show gathering. On my way there, PunkJr called and left me voicemail. Apparently he was at the shitty dive I'd suggested and was scared--something about hobos, sodomy, and kielbasa as far as I could understand through the sobbing. I gave him a reassuring, verbal pat on the back. I don't think it helped.

My celly started blowing up then quite as if I were a rap star. MisterSatan had collected our guests from north of the border--including topbanana66 who was apparently a terrorist threat until he'd shown one form of id--and was en route.

People slowly started filtering in to the restaurant, and we all ate and chatted. Adore wasn't feeling up to the normal level of abuse she takes and ended up hating me for a few minutes. I offered to let her hit me some more, but she declined since it obviously wouldn't hurt me. Roxy showed up sporting her new and interesting surface piercings, and we all had reason to stare unabashedly at her sparkly boobies.

After dinner, we realized that we were many, many hours too early for the show--my bad for not understanding that the time on the tickets were for doors and not when the show actually started. While standing outside the restaurant contemplating what to do, I flicked a penny at MisterSatan. Given my incredible skills, it's little wonder that he soon ended up staggering around, clutching his threat, and glaring at me.

Then all we could do was go to the venue. On the way in, someone spotted Roxy and whispered, "That's a Suicide Girl. That's so awesome." Then Roxy, of all people, was too shy to go meet the other SGs, but they came around on their own eventually and were absolutely the sweetest ladies--especially Siren. PunkJr went and dragged Teagan over. She looked a little scared but handled it well. PunkJr wasn't able to complete his obsessive mission to meet Snow, but I think that might be fore the best.

The heat in our little corner of the world got too much for me, and I couldn't find a place to sit either on the bench that kept wanting to tip over or in the booth, so I squatted down and tried to collect myself. One of the bouncers interpreted this as sleeping and came over to roust me by tapping me twice--hard--on the join between the neck and the shoulder. Predictably, this brought my head up quickly, and he stepped back a little. He said something about not sleeping. I tried to tell him that I hadn't been, and he said something typically goony and wanna-be sarcastic in response. I told him that no one touched me like that was why I'd been startled. He said something else goony, and everyone around me was starting to try to figure out whether or not to hold me back or move the tables. I kept lucid, though, and offered to leave if he was going to keep trying to make a problem. Predictably, he said that, "There won't be a problem unless you start one." I agreed that I wouldn't, and he left. After a few good punches to my inner thigh and a walk around, I was drained out.

Two things: One, MisterSatan's assessment that the bouncer had "said the wrong fucking thing to the wrong fucking person" entirely made my night. Two, I'm glad that for once in my life I managed to keep calm and not start a fucking riot when provoked.

I will cop that it annoyed the living fuck out of me that my friends kept telling me why the bouncer was in the right. I understand that there's no sleeping in bars and he was doing his job. However, I wasn't sleeping, there was no need to tap me on the join of my neck and shoulder that hard, and his attitude fucking sucked. He was trying to pick a fight.

After things calmed down, we hung about and did a lot of nothing. The first band kind of blew. I thought that they had mixed in the drummer too loud on accident. Then I realized he was the best thing about the band. At the end of their set, I went outside with AngelVanilla and MisterSatan to get some air. After being outside for a few seconds, one of the girls ran up and asked if any of us had a pocketknife. I offered my keys, but they were unsuitable to the task at hand--opening a tin of sardines to decorate their tour-mates' van. After a few seconds, I was able to pry the tins open and the befouling began in earnest. Thus, I reentered the club after seeing Violet tap gay porn all over the outside of a van, which was oddly novel. While in the bathroom trying to scrub the sardine nasty out, someone recognized MisterSatan. I'm going to have to start paying him the respect due such a public figure.

Yeah. I probably won't change.

Somewhere in this time, I also bought a round a Jager shots for MisterSatan, monkeypox, and PunkJr. I missed AngelVanilla, which I feel bad about, but the shot was partially just for my boys.

At the end of Bloom's set, I got a little four person mosh started with my SGSeattle brethren MisterSatan, DreamMaker, and PunkJr.

Then it was showtime. Much has been written about this so I won't belabor the point. However, I'd like to say that I have a rare love for a girl smoking a huge cigar. Fenris23, MrDeity, and PunkJr took heavy damage in the chocolate and whipped cream portion of the affair. The girls were incredible, though.

There was some drama when a short, chunky guy started trying to force me out of place. I tried to move him after he hit me in the gut with an elbow, but he fought that gentle push, so I grabbed him by the throat and just moved him. He didn't do a thing.

Kara was too cute as the stage helper, but she's too cute pretty much all the time, so what can you say? Roxy, Freckle, and girl made for great tip collectors. The ever-reclusive Ivy showed up, and DreamMaker drug her over to meet the goons. I'm kind of sad that she had to meet us when we were at the tail end of a long, hot night and were a little grumpy. I hope she'll come out when we're more normal.

As always, planning what to do next was like pulling teeth, and I find that my patience gets too thin these days. I need to work on that. Eventually, monkeypox volunteered his house, so Volks and Kara wouldn't need to risk eviction by having all our drunk asses over again.

After all the herding, we managed to make it to QFC with minutes to spare so that I could do my proper duty as beer fairy. We stayed at monkeypox's house for a while, but everyone was getting tired. When it became obvious I was on my last nerve, MisterSatan, SupremePizzaMan, and I bailed out.

All in all, it was a fun night. We could still do with a little more organizational skill--this is no knock on you, Hercule--but the group are still good kids.

Now it's time to visit Seattle with the Vancouver kids, have some lunch, and head for Portland. I expect there'll be another long write up after that and the Emerald City Comic Con on Sunday, which I'll be attending with the ever-lovely Adore, PunkJr, and whoever all else might be drug out.

This turned out much less quick than anticipated, and I'm due in Seattle in ten minutes now. Whoops.

Everyone else have fun, and be good to each other for fuck's sake.