Last night was WAY too intense and just totally defines why I'm always late for work Wednesday mornings.
Rasp Thorn had like, a Cabaret of sorts, and im not saying I would like to see less shows like that in the store, just basically I would like to see less performance art. I sort of hate art, I've decided.
No, just kidding.
But last night was like an episode of Arrested Development with its fake drunken child-molesting carolers, fake-fist fights that turned into real fights (maybe? at any rate, lead to real breakage of articles in the store), and what I thought were fake cops that came in and started chatting me up. I was half expecting someone to lose an arm and Jay Walter Weatherman to pop up and go "and THATS why.....you never allow performance art in a small venue."
Half my sanity was left intact by Karebear, with whom I had the following scrawled conversation on bar napkins:
Karelisa: Dinner tommorow at 9:30 Soho with Janet? Be there or be
Drew: I want to see the mooooovies. I'm not a I am a
Karelisa: NO! NO MOVIES! Obky performance arts and farts and crafts......says the RAVEN!
Drew: I WENT TO CAMP SO LONG AGO JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WAS MY COUNSELOR.
Karelisa: OMG I WENT TO ORCHESTRA CAMP SO LONG AGO I WAS LIKE "HEY GUYS I CAN'T PRACTICE THIS HARD, MY BIRD FACE HURTS"
Drew: I WENT TO FELINE CAMP SO LONG AGO IT WAS IN THE IN THE CATSKILLZ.
Karelisa: And that's when I said this is just too much. I have AIDS and your bandaids just suck.
Drew: HIGH FIVE= HIV!!!
And then we totally high fived. It was sweet.
New James gave me an issue of Metropolis which is very good and old-James of him.