The new face of SARS.
Motherfuckers! That's all I can say about Customs. Blood sucking bureaucratic sodomisers of mothers. I have been waiting for this package of cds for ever and now Customs has detained it pending me being able to prove that I am me and that I have in fact bought aforementioned package. By fax. I want to go and kill somebody so hard, they die until they're dead!
And here I had been planning on writing a pleasant piece - full of reminiscing and anecdotes for you today...
Oh well, why not! I did have a pretty fantastic weekend after all...
Let's start with the mind bending experience I had on Friday night courtesy of some old fart from New York who rightly bemoans the state of the world and is pissed off enough about it to create monolithic slabs of noise art through which to express his disdain and distaste for humankind. The Swans in full flight are peerless, and so perfectly, painfully flawed that they are beyond compare. I was rapt - and in a happy place very few experiences are capable of creating - all evening. With my wine and my undivided attention being soaked up by Michael Gira and cohorts. The sheer scale of sonic power these war-scarred veterans manage to create without the use of things like over driven guitars is staggering. And something to be savoured.
Saturday - after a very successful band rehearsal - the Hot Girlfriend pitched up in time for us to get going to the much anticipated High School Reunion. I was kind of edgy because my best mate from school had cancelled last minute and I am sure that he would have enjoyed it tremendously. I couldn't find the damn venue, even though I'd been there before. Not an auspicious start. But once we got there and I recognised an old face or 70, things got well and truly under way. Being 2 hours "late", by the time we got there some of the usual suspects were already three sheets to the wind - refreshing for a bunch of fogies, but having witnessed the very same behaviour from the very same people back in the day, not entirely surprising. After literally wading through about 30 minutes of handshaking, hugs, kisses and some sincere, some not so sincere "hey, how you doing, great to see you"s, it was time settle into some beers and conversations. Typically, those people with whom you had the most in common in school proved to be excellent company - it was as if you had seen them yesterday. Booze flowed, people shouted over each other as everyone fought to get the last chunk of their life's achievements condensed and delivered above the next one and a wonderful time seemed to be had by all. Well, except for the "plus ones", who, as expected - kind of mulled around and took up space next to their husbands, wives, etc who were all happily reminiscing and remonstrating. Luckily I made a point all evening of introducing the Hot Girlfriend to everyone I greeted (I'm useless at that usually...). It was an absolute pleasure to catch up with some of my old buddies - the only pity was that I had to leave after about 3 hours to go and DJ at the Halloween party at Mercury.
I ended up not DJing. These things happen. There was a tap on the bar and a friendly bartender who was only too eager to serve the contents to me. Black Label Draft and I have a longstanding arrangement that involves amnesia, poverty, a roaring good time, and monumenstrual hangovers! It didn't disappoint.
Sunday was very chilled, with the exception of pushing a car up and down my street. With aforementioned hangover.
Which brings us to today and my wildly successful shopping spree at lunchtime. I went out to price materials for Tarty Farty Tequila Party's custom foster puppy play pen. I obviously overdid it a bit on the design and staggered out of the hardware store barely able to breathe - gasping and spluttering. Abandoning that idea, I thought it couldn't harm to see if there was something suitable at Cash Crusaders. Lo! And behold! An infant's play pen, cot maggafter absolutely perfect for her purposes and at a mere fraction of the cost. I have now done my good deed for the week. And speaking of which, I need to start arranging the next Lovecats show.
Add to that the fact that I found a copy of Van Wilder and my day is made.
Now if only someone could find the dimmer switch for the Cape Doctor.
NGDG: Will Smith needs to make another movie. With Jason Statham. And Claire Danes. Set on Earth. At the time of the Crusades. With an Armada and fire. Lots of fire. I don't ask for much.
Spread The Love. But None For Customs. Fuckers.