Sunday, September 16, 2007

pack behaviour



also, in unrelated news,
whatever scene i seem to be breaking into this time seems to hate me. seriously.

first off, a friend of ten years offered himself to me sexually so that he could live down here with me in my tiny-ass room and be able to play with the band i just joined. he pretty much wanted to take the spot these guys had just offered me -- i don't even think he understands the concept of me having actually joined this band and not just being eye candy with a violin. he also keeps trying to get ahold of me when i have made it very clear that he needs to give me space if he intends to keep his balls. he has continued to demonstrate that he knows nothing about me at all after ten years of friendship. need i even say how his attitude makes me feel sick to my stomach? he just keeps calling me. grrrrrr

secondly, the landlord who owns the building where we rented practice space went into a fit because the fire inspector was coming to check out the place (which would go up in smoke in three seconds flat), ripped all of our posters off of our walls and left our door unlocked for at least a week. good point: nothing was stolen. bad point: our shit is all fucked up and we have no place to play.

since we had no practice space, we couldn't do the first or second shows offered to us. my singer ended up fronting a sort of 'all-stars' reunion band instead, and they sang songs from his old band. i showed up because, well, that's what i do best. it was actually a decent show until the second to last band played. these guys were pretty good, but the lead singer decided to make an example of me. i had made an effort that night to wear a nice tight shirt to show off my boobies because honestly, if these stupid scene guys are so amazed and incredulously insulted about me being female, i figured i ought to emphasize the fact just to be a passive-aggressive bitch. and sure enough, in between sets, this hulking boob looked me in the eyes and said into the mike "i have never in my life seen anything as pathetic as that little girl right there". and spit beer all over me.

i was standing right up in front next to my singer and his girlfriend. my singer stole this guys yet-untouched new beer, and gave it to me. i was laughing, simply because that was the first thing i could think to do. since it also seemed like the right thing at the time, i spit a nice big mouthful all over his crotchal region, so it looked like he'd pissed his pants. i managed a good spray into his face, and then i smiled and flipped him off. he looked surprised, flipped me back off, and finished the set. and then i went home.

to be honest, i'm not quite sure what to make out of it all. searching for practice spaces.

3 comments:

emily2 said...

ah, it seems that some of these scenester enema bags were a hair's breadth to being skinhead gangster thugs but picked up a guitar just in time, as evidenced by the misogyny and general boorishness displayed by these sad excuses for human beings.

emily2 said...

okay, i have another possible theory. to arrive at this theory, i had to take myself back to elementary school. back in third grade, boys had not yet developed the social skills to approach women that they took a liking to. instead, boys resorted to tossing spitballs in the hair of the objects of their desire, as they high fived their buddies.

so, he may have a crush on you.

still, this boy does not seem to have evolved past a pre-pubescent mindset and, notwithstanding any type of affection he may have for you, i would avoid him at all costs or be sucked into a vortex of stupidity.

emily3 said...

dude, i hadn't even met this guy. as far as he's concerned, i'm just the chick who's been asked to join a band. it is rather third gradish, somehow, no?
i know i was wearing a tight shirt, but jeez.