landed in NYC about an hour ago--can't check into the Hostel (the Whitehouse--see a couple of entries back) until 3 or so--so it's time for some wanderin'--
feels like I never left, yo.
Buffalo was, well, Buffalo--cold, cold, cold motherfucking COLD--& I'm sure there're just oodles of things to do, but I couldn't really locate any, except for shivering & bitching about how cold it was. (my first day there I saw in the paper that there was a genuine SG burley-Q & toddled down to the performance space. VERY disappointing, I must say--mostly because I got my dates all mixed up & it'd actually taken place the night before. sigh.--also I went to see Hank III a couple of nights later but it was sold out. I ended going to a bar a few blocks away that had a listing of bands that sounded vaguely punk. at the bar--the Tudor Lounge--there were but a smattering of patrons. I bellied up & ordered a pint of refreshing beverage & while waiting for delivery of same the lad at the door came over & asked if I'd like to see the bands &, by inference, pay a modest stipend for the priveledge. "Are they punk?" asked I. "My penis is little," quoth he. I wasn't quite sure how to respond, so I didn't. after a few ticks of the clock, he said it again. I said something like, "Um," & just kinda figured that this is one of those bars where somebody takes it upon themselves to fuck with you the moment you sit down. I don't mind those sorts of bars unless I am the one being fucked with. anyway, after a few more beats he clarified, "My Penis, they're one of the bands--they're a little punk--I'm not sure about the rest of them. Anal Pudding's more of a jam band. Mr. Ski Mask just kinda screams." Mr. Ski Mask--the first one up, did indeed just kinda scream. he held an electric guitar & played a few notes first off & then put the guitar down & relied on pre-recorded music. also, he had a pink, 4 foot-long paper-mache penis jutting out from crotch level, accentuated with two dangly testicles--also paper-mache, also bright pink, & he messed about with a plastic virgin mary statue & a baby-jesus-on-a-bed-of-straw, also plastic.)
ah, the city awaits. I leave Thursday--any suggestion regarding Things-To-Do will be most welcome.
love & kisses,
Ratsonthetown
feels like I never left, yo.
Buffalo was, well, Buffalo--cold, cold, cold motherfucking COLD--& I'm sure there're just oodles of things to do, but I couldn't really locate any, except for shivering & bitching about how cold it was. (my first day there I saw in the paper that there was a genuine SG burley-Q & toddled down to the performance space. VERY disappointing, I must say--mostly because I got my dates all mixed up & it'd actually taken place the night before. sigh.--also I went to see Hank III a couple of nights later but it was sold out. I ended going to a bar a few blocks away that had a listing of bands that sounded vaguely punk. at the bar--the Tudor Lounge--there were but a smattering of patrons. I bellied up & ordered a pint of refreshing beverage & while waiting for delivery of same the lad at the door came over & asked if I'd like to see the bands &, by inference, pay a modest stipend for the priveledge. "Are they punk?" asked I. "My penis is little," quoth he. I wasn't quite sure how to respond, so I didn't. after a few ticks of the clock, he said it again. I said something like, "Um," & just kinda figured that this is one of those bars where somebody takes it upon themselves to fuck with you the moment you sit down. I don't mind those sorts of bars unless I am the one being fucked with. anyway, after a few more beats he clarified, "My Penis, they're one of the bands--they're a little punk--I'm not sure about the rest of them. Anal Pudding's more of a jam band. Mr. Ski Mask just kinda screams." Mr. Ski Mask--the first one up, did indeed just kinda scream. he held an electric guitar & played a few notes first off & then put the guitar down & relied on pre-recorded music. also, he had a pink, 4 foot-long paper-mache penis jutting out from crotch level, accentuated with two dangly testicles--also paper-mache, also bright pink, & he messed about with a plastic virgin mary statue & a baby-jesus-on-a-bed-of-straw, also plastic.)
ah, the city awaits. I leave Thursday--any suggestion regarding Things-To-Do will be most welcome.
love & kisses,
Ratsonthetown