S.H.A.W.T.A.Y.

Above: Lady GaGa show in Tampa, Florida - taken with my camera by a tall person.



“They won't see us waving from such great
Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away,
'come down now,' but we'll stay…” Such Great Heights - Postal Service


As a rule, I won’t pay to go to concerts where the performer finds back up dancers to be a necessity. I still haven’t violated that rule, but I did attend Lady GaGa’s gig last night. Yes, she had her “crew”, but I didn’t pay, so all is still right in my world of music snobbery.

HAD I paid, I would’ve been soooooooooo pissed because I couldn’t see a damn thing. Were I wheelchair bound, I would be accommodated in places that there was a view, but since I’m just a bit shy of 5’3, my eye line was armpits and elbows (poke her face?). Especially at a GaGa show where the fans emulate her wears in the giant tranny shoe department.

After ½ hour of tippytoe trying, my brain bore the whim to start the “S.H.A.W.T.A.Y. Coalition”.

Sorted
Height
Acclimation
Warranting
Two
Aisles
Yo

At “general admission” seating, I think the floor should be divided into halves; the left side sectioned by heights and the right can be how things are now - anything goes, first come, first serve.

Section one on the left will be for 5’4 and under, Section 2 for 5’8 and under, and backed by Section 3 for 5’11 and under. 5’4 and unders will be permitted in all sections since they don’t obstruct the view, and Section 2’s can go in 3, but not 1. Yeah security will have its hands full, but fuck it! My shorty cash is just as good as height blessed money; I should be allowed at least a glance of what I pay for no?

I think the reason why there were so many tall humans at the show is because Shawtays have just given up altogether and quit buying tickets. The general admission concert has evolved into a heightist event that even the promoters couldn’t witness (their short asses were behind me).

When my tall bestie tried to lift me for a peek, security was on us like I had just tried to behead someone. Of course, they were nowhere to be seen when a gigantic, fucking beast unnecessarily crashed into me, bending back my pinky fingernail, which exploded my drink upon my velvet and the pissy queen next to me.

Oh yeah, I lost my shit on him, but he just stood there, blank. He was bartending later at the after party, but I still had fun in between moments of fantasizing about his grizzly death, and giving him the stink eye. I don’t love easily, but hate and I get pretty cozy at the smallest of prompting.

I hope fire ants colonize his penis with a fervor never before seen by human eyes.

I hope his bones turn against him and jump out through his skin only to beat his remaining flesh into an unrecognizable goo.

I really should’ve just sold my ticket for $200 and attended the after festivities - it was an option. At any rate, if you are 6 ft and over, GaGa puts on a good show - I’ve heard.

Cinnabeer?

“Sometimes all I need is the air that I breathe” Air That I Breathe - The Hollies

Yikes, last night was weird.

I met up with my friends for drinks and to shake our bones to some tunes, but all day I had this feeling of dread. Just like something wasn’t right or like how you feel if you’re in trouble, or someone is being insincere… something, though I couldn’t put my finger (or thumb) on it. Not that applying an appendage onto an issue ever remedied it or made it any less real - I digress.

Someone my crew all thought was gay lunged at me while I was talking about sewing my outfit. I wasn’t scantily clad (see above) or flirtatious in any way, I mean, he’s cute and stuff, but EW. That’s so not cool to begin with, but as he attempted to smash his face into mine, his breath nearly brought me to suicide. NASTY like what I imagine an anchovy’s ass to reek like.

Diverting his attention elsewhere (by screaming “NO get off me!”), I wriggled away and ran to the nearest car wash and then had a chemical peel, followed by seven hundred courses of Tic Tacs.

After making an appointment to get a face transplant, I became engaged in a low key discussion about Russian literature with someone else who also had death breath.

Both of these guys were drinking beer, a beverage I’ve never been really fond of as it makes men eventually get breasty and pregnant looking (it is highly estrogenic btw), but lately I’ve been noticing it really kills your exhale in an almost ambitious manner.

Maybe it’s time to double up that swill with flavors like how they’ve gone and perverted vodka. Cinnabeer? Winterbeer? Spearabeer? Strawbeery? Citrabeer? Beernilla? Beerchouli?

Something must be done, and soon! Pew!

Currently listening:
Pablo Honey
By Radiohead

Boggled

“Its only words, and words are all I have” Words - The Bee Gees

I don’t have an addiction, but maybe a predilection to games. I love word games of any kind (I’m ¼ geek on my mom’s side), and I have to make sure that with all that’s available to me online, to curb myself a bit.

Boggle is the one I mostly have a penchant for. I know, lame right? Just the same, each place I’ve found online has a different allowance of words that I’ve found quite entertaining.

The one I play on the most does not count “Zen” as a word, but it readily accepts “clit”, “cum”, and “cunt”.

Currently listening:
Best of Bee Gees
By The Bee Gees

I Bought a Harp

I bought a HARP! No not that kind of harp, a Jaw Harp, or what’s more commonly known as a “Jew’s Harp”.

According to Jewish Law, I’ve been told I’m a Jew (my mom‘s mom‘s mom was Jewish and converted to hide her identity - the rest of her family stood their ground and got shot to death so I‘d be inclined to go all Jesus freak if my options were that lame) but I was raised Baptist and once I hit the teens, I put in my application for Agnosticism and was immediately welcomed into the freethinking fold. Luckily, you can play the Jew’s Harp regardless of your belief system, or lack thereof (thank gawd right?).

You probably associate the sound of this harp with frogs hopping on cartoons. I tried playing it on some of the stuff I‘m working on, but it doesn’t quite mesh. I had a good laugh all the same.

Oh yeah and I just found out I’m pregnant.

Happy first day of the fourth month of the year (April Fools - I’m so not carrying a demon in my pouch).

Ting One and Ting Two

“They call me Hell
They call me Stacey
They call me Her
They call me Jane, that’s not my name” That’s Not My Name - The Ting Tings

My real names (first and last) have been massacred beyond recognition, so I have my own meanings hinged on “That’s Not My Name”. Yeesh, I sure do miss dating Euro trash, as you only have to tell them your name once. They take pronunciation as seriously as Americans take their junk food (we have coalitions even just for Miracle Whip). Here in the US I’ve given up on my names. When introduced, I tell people what I’m called, because before when I would give the real moniker, they just stared blankly waiting for other options anyways. They simply don’t even try anymore.

My real name is Nastaosyhjhneioahiahygyijikejlm, so I don’t see what the big deal is, but whatev, dolphins can say it and that’s all that really matters.

Ting One and Ting Two, aka Jules and Katie, are The Ting Tings. They hail from northern England, where everyone is over them, but we here in Florida still like to shake our things to the Tings.

Jules has a condition where he gets epileptic types of seizures, so the band requests small venues where they can somewhat control the gigs. In preventing the attacks there is no smoking, flash photography, strobe lights, or ugly people permitted so I and my ten friends basically had the place to ourselves. Ooooh I kid about the ugly people. They were in full force as usual and I love them for it.

The crowd was in full on dance mode from the second the Tings and their devices were audible until they eventually evaporated into the Florida humidity. The sound was perfect and the band did not disappoint.

I didn’t have high expectations since they only have one album out, and they are a mere two piece, but I really enjoyed the show.

My only gripe was ticket prices being a tad steep for such a short set. Cover songs are not the evil they’re made out to be when in need of a time stretch and I would’ve loved to have seen what they would’ve selected to interpret for us. Other than that, they rocked and so did the after party (maybe a little too hard heh).

The video I took has shit sound quality, but it’s got O’Brian (my friend in the red tee) rockin’ out, heheheh, so that makes up for it.

(I suggest you press "play" and then "pause" quickly so that the video loads all the way. Then press "play" and you might avoid the skips or whatever happens once it's youtubed.)

Kreativ Blogger Award

What a nice surprise to check in on my Canadian pretty, Vesper, today and find that she tagged me as one of her 7 creative bloggers! How groovy is that? Thanks V!

In acceptance of the Kreativ Blogger award, one must post 7 things they love and 7 creative bloggers they'd like to decorate with said award. Fair enough!

7 Things I Love:

1) Music - My ears must have 7,000 more nerve endings than the average being because I seem to get off 7,000 times harder than anyone else I know when it comes to the tunes. The only thing that makes music better is last on the list combined with what is next.

2) Humor - A necessary ingredient to everything. Sex is hilarious, I can't imagine it without humor, yet I can handle humor without sex. The Beatles were the best with implementing humor in their music, but Beck does a nice job too.

3) Writing -Also one of my top 5 best forms of self entertainment using both hands (I mostly type). It's the only occasion where I truly crack myself up and don't feel weird about it.

4) Compliments - I shan't lie, I dig hearing nice things.

5) Relating - when someone really GETS you effortlessly, and vice versa. A rarity.

6) Pets - Love at first sight can occur with them and it's everlasting.

7) Sex - It's best with music, but exceptions can be made. I'm fascinated by it, love to discuss it, and yet don't feel nearly as acquainted with it as I should be. It should never be done with pets, EVER!

7 Kreativ Bloggers:

1) Vesper - I love it when I meet someone and there's weird, cosmic connections. Canada is so lucky to be cuddling you and your effervescent outlook on everything from film to hair straightening.

2) Annie - This chick is adventurous. She's "all in" when she makes things happen, and everytime I read her, I want to pack my bags and go somewhere I've never heard of.

3) Rosie - In so many of her posts, there are these lightly, jeweled phrases that you just want to invite out for drinks.

4) Andrew - Oh he hates this stuff, if he sees it, he'll probably print it out and have a piss on it. Were it not for him and his bitchy bites of funny, I wouldn't have found Annie, Rosie, or Billy.

5) Billy - He provoked bloggers worldwide to bathe in milk, need I say more?

6) Swiss Toni - Yeah, the name alone right? I love going to Swiss Toni's Place. He's like seven kinds of geek, but the music one is the one I read for. If you like Bill Bryson and go to 10 shows a month, you'll dig this guy.

7) The last blogger I want to give this to is a private one. I know that's probably not how this gets around, but I think they could use a treat right now. Shhhhhhhhhhh.