I Smell Like A Bar

Oh yeah, I don’t like my second adopted hometown, after Stillwater and my real hometown of Fort Dodge. Okay, it’s not like I actively dislike Saint Paul, but I don’t miss it at all. I think that what I miss is what I came to Minnesota for: a big, drafty house with a thousand crazy friends crashing on the couch. So Minneapolis passed the smoking ban right about the time that

I woke up from my life like it was all just a bad dream.

Thanks, Firewater, but you’re getting ahead of me. I’ve seen a handful of shows this summer, but they have all been in Mpls., so thusly, no smoking. I’ve been out to the bars, too, but again, no smoking. I even went to New York, where I spent about 1/3 of my time (or more) stunt drinking in bars. Still, no smoking.

Mother fucking nasty. Why did I ever smoke a pack a day? What possessed me to pick up a cigarette, put it in my mouth, and make out with it like it was the last girlfriend that I would have for four years? Saint Paul needs to clear the smoking out of bars so my lungs can stay pink and beautiful.

STNNNG was just as I expected: loud, fast, and intricate, with a splash of crazed, out of control insanity over the top. The real shocker was Gay Beast, who ripped the air to shreds with their power trio of keyboard, guitar, and drums. Did I say drums without capitalizing it? DRUMS! WOW! I think on the second song the drummer (Angela? Shit, I’m terrible with names, but you know that) took a few seconds to sync up with the keys, but every other impact of her drumsticks and beater left a ringing impression on the rock center of my brain. The whole effect was as if robots had been programmed to rock, but got a virus, broke free of their masters, and decided to produce pure chaos through a mathematical formula. Two for the pink, one for rocking my ass!

After that was Lone Wolf, who basically turned his amp up to eleven and then gestured to the sound guy to bring up the house PA. It was a bit like the beginning of Back to the Future where Marty turns all the knobs up, strikes one chord and blows himself straight across the room and into the wall, except that this dude had pounded giant nails through his feet into the floor. He looked a lot like Glenn Danzig in Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

Danzig: Can we get the blood to flow up the walls?
Cybernetic Ghost: I dont see why not.

The part of seeing a local band in a dive bar that I love is that I was able to accost the singer from STNNNNNNNNNNNNG and tell him how much the band rocked. Later, during the next three hour break between bands, the drummer from Gay Beast sidled up to the bar next to me and I accosted her too. Then, after I ran out of small talk I got a chance to start fresh since the keyboardist (Danimal) and guitarist (Isaac) slid in next to me seeking liquid refreshment. The whole band wanted to know my name, even though I’m just a random dude in a bar telling them that I wasn’t sure what to expect before having my pants rocked to my knees while I stood there with my mouth agape.

I don’t know if I could recommend anything that I saw to anyone else unless they are big fans of crazy. I sure am, so yeah, I had an awesome time, but I left early because the smoke was making my head spin. Also, I’m old.

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Where’s The Beef?

The Google Summer of Code is winding down, which means that (like any software project) activity is ramping up. Ross has a nearly complete theme together, and I’ve given him a partial review. I’m partway through review number two.

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Free ticket(s)

Mitzi

Hooray, I called in on a random “K!” and got “on the list” at Big V’s tomorrow.
Aids Wolf
Arctic Universe
Lone Wolf
Gay Beast
Stnnng

Doors at 9pm.

I have no idea who any of these bands are. Hilarity will ensue!

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I’m Awfully Tired

That’s it. I’m supposed to be doing a code review and/or writing an novella about the craziness of New York, but all that I have wanted to do since I got home was lie down in bed and sleep. I don’t even want to pick out highlight photos (like me holding Beckett aloft, or having my arm around the cute waitress).

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Noah Was Glad To Have Me Home

Ooo, I’m a ghost!

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NYC Aggregation

The Whole Crew at Gallagher's<br />
Photo thanks to Joan

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How Much Will It Cost Us To Break This Union?

I woke up from an expected nap to find my Northwest flight paused on the tarmac. The engines spun up then stopped. I could see the shadow of an “off-contract mechanic” standing below the wing. A heavily loaded electrical motor whined, then paused. Clunk after metallic clunk announced our resumption of travel.

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Open Bar, Dude!

I have been having a great time! Everyone is awesome, and we were all BFF. We are visiting Bharat’s palatial Google estate in Chelsea (just down the street from the Rawhide bar, grrrrowl!) and there will soon be massive amounts of food delivered. My laptop has been unable to connect to the wifi in the hotel, so I’m depending on the kindness of strangers. Well, the kindness of Bharat. Anyway, I have to try and be a little bit social now. HAHAHAHAHA! I gave the first “toast” last night, and by toast I mean long winded, hysterically funny, and completely blue speech. Bharat’s was better, h0bbel’s was amazing, and I was closing out the open bar during Volksport’s speech (which got a lot of laughs, but free wine! Free Wine!).

Dubonnet! Delicious!

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I’m here!

I made it! I got a limo ride from the airport at my own expense. I may have been literally taken for a ride, but I don’t mind so much ‘cause it’s raining and all. Andy (valiant) is here already, and his Swiss accent is charming. I’m bouncing off the walls ‘cause I’m so excited! Hooray!

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Welcome to steerage!

I couldn’t help but stare at the word “RABBI�? embroidered in gold on the yarmulke of the man a row in front of me, cunningly concealed under a baseball cap bearing the words “New York.�”

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