Black As My Soul

Minnesota State Fair

My fair fare last night included the following:

• Fresh French Fries
• Turkey Tenderloin wrapped in bacon (on a stick)
• Pronto Pup
• Tom Thumb donuts (I love to watch the tiny little donut machine in action!)
• Green Mill Dixie Wings (on a stick)
• Batter Fried Cheese Curds
• Lemonade
• Coke
• Summit Extra Pale Ale (local)
• Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat (regional)

If I had it to do over?

I would.

Going to Miss the Reverend

Reverend Horton Heat are playing the 7th Street Entry at First Avenue on Saturday night.

I just found out. And I'm going to have to miss them.

Damn it.

I will, however, hoist a cold one in their honor.

Pontani Sisters *Rock!*

Everybody loves The World Famous Pontani Sisters, right?

I saw them dance a few numbers when Los Straightjackets came to First Ave this past Friday. I think Helen Pontani was the best dancer.

I loved the show and I wish you coulda been there with me! ;)

Supersuckers and Reverend Horton Heat

Monday night found me at First Avenue with a few excellent friends to see Reverend Horton Heat. The tickets for the show listed Supersuckers as the first act, with an opening act TBA.

Fortunately there was no opening act. Unfortunately, Supersuckers started their set 35 minutes late.

But this was cool, in the end. First Avenue has a big screen that hangs in front of the stage, two plasma monitors on either side of the stage, and I think one or two more traditional TV-like monitors in addition. These were playing Bullitt, and Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill! Which completely rocked. I'll admit I had never seen a Russ Meyer film before. Having seen this (video only, the dialog was eschewed in favor of First Ave's usual eclectic mix—which created fun juxtapositions of its own) I have gone and ordered the DVD through the bookstore. It's so gratuitous and campy I just can't believe it.

Supersuckers are clearly a good-time bad-boy party band. They played covers and their own stuff. They're something of a fusion between country, 70s rock, and punk. Their sound dovetailed well with Reverend Horton Heats as similar, but so not the same. The bass of the singer was passed to the other three members of the band, who all played the same riff on it. It was even passed to the drummer, who struck the strings with one stick and kept the beat going with his other limbs. The drummer for the night was in fact Horton Heat's drummer—and Supersuckers said they were looking for a permanent drummer should one be willing to relocate to Seattle.

The Reverend's set was completely awesome, as always. They played stand-bys like Galaxie 500 (I *love* Galaxy 500!), Loco Gringos Like to Party, Psycho-Billy Freak Out and all the ones you would expect to hear. All so good. They protested vehemently that they don't have a set list. Reverend even claimed that if you had a printed set list from one of their shows, which they had been advised by management to do at some point, it was wrong. They always deviated. Apparently some jack ass posted on their web site that their set list hadn't changed in 10 years. People are so stupid and misguided. At this point they opened the set up to requests from the audience. Naturally The Jimbo Song came up. This is not to be confused with The Sermon on the Jimbo, which I have never heard live, but which you really need to hear.

Reverend Horton Heat also have a Christmas album, from which they played Greensleeves, Jingle Bells… and a third I can't recall. But they rock and fuck if I'm not going to have to buy that album, too.

Everything was cool except for the idiots playing My First Mosh Pit. I stood at the edge of it, not wanting to give my ground to the mayhem, but the cost was getting knocked off-balance repeatedly and the occasional drink spill. Not mine, but on me nonetheless. I laughed at the idiots who knowingly stepped into the fray with beers. The amazing and fearless bouncer to my right took plenty of hits and just shoved the kids back into the mess, keeping them contained.

All in all it was a blast. And that's why I love Reverend Horton Heat and First Avenue.

Lili's Burlesque Revue

Saturday night I had dinner with my family and was mocked endlessly about the certain air a golden Cadillac might exude.

I have so far been promised a hat and a cane.

I still think a gold Cadillac is more about Elvis than being a pimp in the 'hood…. but that's just my age talking I guess.

But after dinner I changed into black jeans, a scarlet silk shirt and a black suit coat and headed into the warehouse district in Minneapolis.

My partner in crime for the evening had done some preliminary research and we knew just the place to go: Lili's Burlesque Revue

Sadly, I missed the first dancer or two was we did not arrive until 10:30. The stated show time is 10:00.

The club was… ridiculously intimate. It was a red room, basically unadorned, with a high ceiling and a stage in one corner. There were three musicians playing a stand-up double bass, drums, and an electric guitar that looked straight out of 1953. Those boys were superb.

A woman calling herself Nadine Dubois was the mistress of ceremonies for the evening. She was not at all above demanding drink money from audience members. She allowed men and women both to place these "tips" in her stockings.

Ah! Stockings! There were so many on display during the night! Heavenly!

Miss Dubois had a good rapport with the audience, sang a few songs and did burlesque herself. Joy!

There were several performers that night: Vika, Lola Bel Aire, Lady Luck. The stage assistant for the evening Chloe Wilder got into the act as well. All of the women were really beautiful, each in her way. I made several trips to the stage and the tip purse. I'm such a sucker for legs.

The stand-out performer of the evening, though, was Coco Dupree. She was easily the most commanding stage presence and the most artful of the performers. She was arguably the star of the show.

I really enjoyed myself at the show, and if you're in Minneapolis on the weekend I must highly recommend it!

Recapping As Much As I Can Remember

God, I'm sorry. It's been such a long time!

I was working a total of three jobs there for a bit. And I was just too completely fried to keep up with my otherwise regularly scheduled nocturnal habits and emissions.

The contracting gig didn't last, They claimed to not have enough for me to do. Actually, that was true. It will blow up on them later that they do not have properly trained staff on site, but that's not my problem now, is it? So I gotta run in tomorrow and return some electronic goodies and get my final hours approved.

In other news, I did quit the convenience store and do not plan to ever go back. Evar! It's beautiful.

So right this very minute I have just the one job at the book store.

Crazy. But that's how it goes.

I have been to a few events of late, one of which was the Suicide Girls Burlesque show, which was here at the Fine Line Music Café.

I have to say, the opening band was completely adorable. It was this three piece from Japan called Tsu Shi Ma Mi Re. They couldn't really speak English, but my God could those three little girls rock! If you do get the chance to hear them or see them, I do whole-heartedly recommend them.

The Suicide Girls themselves were of course hot. There were on the order of 8 to 10 of them who did little teases and scenes individually and in small groups. I seemed to really like one in which one of the girls had her legs up in the air spraying whipped cream onto them… and another in which there were two "school girls" and a somewhat stern "professor/mistress." The "school girls" kissed. Mmmm. Did I mention they were wearing leashes? :: sigh ::

A few nights later I went to a club which advertises Bondage a Go Go on Thursday nights. The club was cool but disappointingly not very busy. On the upstairs level, there was a Domme with two female assistants who was taking folks from the floor to have them participate in short scenes. The was a lot of flogging and dripping-of-hot-wax, but not much else. I thought there may have been a vibrator in use on one woman, but I was not able to see clearly due to lighting and trying to see around the crowd. That and I'm near-sighted.

The Domme was dressed in a lovely corset and heels. She was very enthusiastic about her work. She seemed with her eye contact to know which of her audience members would most enjoy her work. I don't think she looked at me once… yet my companion that evening reported eye contact and smiles from the Domme on several occasions.

In the near future, I suspect I will be going to local gentleman's cub which is advertising burlesque. It should be interesting to see how they handle it as they are known to have all-nude girls—which I can verify from personal experience…

You know I love you and miss you.

I will try to write with more frequency!

Hot Summer Night

Stormcloud in the air

I went shopping for music today. Hit the Electric Fetus in Minneapolis and Cheapo in Uptown.

Flipping through the vinyl bins, I saw my life flash before my eyes.

Do you remember Honeymoon Suite?

Do you remember Guiffria?

Do you remember Dream Academy?

Do you remember David + David?

I do.

Vividly.

I'm not saying any of this was the best music ever, but I sure liked it a lot when I was… younger.

I almost bought an old 12" of Frankie's Relax just for the cover art.

I did buy some import vinyl… Inside the record jacket I found the poster below:

I also bought a Moev record from 1988. I'm working on making iPod/iTunes playlist versions of old mix tapes I made once upon a time. Jesus, fuck, but it's hard to find some of that stuff in any format at all anymore. I hate to digitize from cassette… but if I have to resort to that, I suppose I will.

I need a turntable, anyway. Should I buy a new, cheap, and über-simple turntable? Or should I get a used Stanton or Technics DJ deck to record from? I have caviar taste but only a low- to mid-fi budget. And then? I would love to digitize recording for people!

The Party Last Weekend

I had the great honor of being invited to a party last weekend… A sort of BDSM party, for lack of better descriptive terms. It was held at the residence of the host, in a rather secluded suburban setting. I attended with a good friend. She had been asked about whether or not I would be 'in' to such a thing. Would I be cool? Could I handle it? (My authoring this blog is not advertised). I felt honored to be included, frankly. Walking up to the house, I could see some of the rooms lit with red light, and I could hear screams. It wasn't necessarily a comfort, walking out of the pitch black. Inside the main entry was a set of shelves stocked thoughfully with various prophylactics, breath fresheners, and clothes-pins. I loved that many of these had more than one purpose. In the opposite direction was a large piece of furniture for suspension scenes. While I never saw it used, I did later hear that it was in use—or should I say I heard one of the users of said furniture… I and my companion were late-comers to the party. Everyone had eaten dinner before we had arrived. The spread was largely food designed to go along with a grilled entree of some type. The only things I ate were strawberries dressed in balsamic vinegar and some ripe olives. What did I see? The women wore stunning costumes. Wonderful corsets, stockings, fishnets, short-short skirts, PVC, and… pigtails. Gawd were they sexy! The boys? One guy wore a policeman's uniform. His pistol was a vibrator. He made a lot of jokes about serving the public, successfully getting confessions, cavity searches, and the like. The rest of the boys? Not so much. Too many t-shirts. The young boy wearing only jeans and tattoos was kinda sexy, but he was all over his girlfriend who was attired similarly. But… hey, guys? Dress like you care a little maybe? I dunno… I mean I was only in black jeans and a black dress shirt. I wore it like I always wear my white whirts with jeans: top two buttons open and sleeves turned up twice. I thought maybe it was a little sexah? Anyway… the host did take off his shirt at the request of one of the female guests who was also topless. After meeting the host and the, uh, cop, I witnessed my first sort of scene: There were three women on a sofa. One on her back—I don't know that I ever saw her face. A second was straddling the upper body or face of the first. The third woman was kneeling between the thighs of the first—slapping the inside of the first woman's thighs with open hands. The second woman, who was running things, then reached to masturbate the first woman until she came—in front of about 20 or so very interested onlookers. And then the group was asked if anyone else wanted to play with the woman who had just come. That offer was accepted by a male who pulled her onto him and began to paddle her bottom. Elsewhere in the house I met a beautiful subbie clad in a small PVC top and PVC skirt. She said her master had dressed her. RAWR! She had an excellent sense of humor and was not at all amused with the cops jokes—giving him the hand at one point. There was play piercing, too. A woman with absolutely amazing breasts (and pierced nipples) laid back with a blissed out look as she was worked by a piercer who added multiple piercings over her chest and breasts. Some sort of string or filament was run between the piercings and pulled taught. Occasionally as the piercings went along, the piercer would pull on the filament, adding extra pressure and no doubt intensifying the sensations immensely. I didn't see any blood—which reminds me that the only house rule was "No blood on the carpet." The most intense scene I witnessed involved a nude young woman who was restrained with both cuffs and rope, and tied to a bench so that her back and buttocks were exposed. I had hope that the rope work would be more elegant—it seemed to have nice beginnings—but once it was clear the woman was secured, the rope work ended. She was worked on by both a Dom and a Domme, who took turns with various implements: bare hands, floggers, um, this wire-loop thing, and other stuff… each of which they worked to a screaming crescendo. The Domme seemed to more intuitively understand how to elicit the scream. While I left the house before the woman was released, I do understand that a good time was had by all. Needless to say… I didn't fall right to sleep after I got back to my hotel room. Whoa.

Fan-Freakin'-Tastic!

As of today, I became a network administrator and a "book seller," both. Two jobs, baby!

And *boy* do I need them! My previously meager finances were stretched past breaking.

I am currently super-excited, hopeful, and proud.

:: bows humbly, deeply, gratefully ::

Book Signing

I went to Uncle Hugo's tonight to get a copy of Incubus Dreams signed.

Sadly, I forgot my digital camera. :(

I spoke to Laurell briefly and asked her if it was hard to write all day, then turn around and write in her blog. She said that she can do it if she changes the music she's listening to. She said it doesn't matter what it is, but it has to be different than what she listens to when she writes. I believe she is known to have a few specific CDs she listens to while writing each book, although which CDs will change with each title.

She also said that she was surprised that so many people read her blog. She said at one signing it was as though one in three people mentioned the read the blog as well as her books.

She also said she has never written something so close to a diary in all her life.

I thanked her for coming. Minneapolis isn't a huge city, as they go, and Uncle Hugo's/Uncle Egdar's is a private little store—so I think it's cool she's made a point of coming here. That makes twice that I've seen her, both at the same store.

Compartmentalization

Therapy today. It's hard to please the normals. Do I behave suspiciously? Yes. Dammit.

"Why did you check out that book? Are you 'in to that' now?"

I was curious, OK? I've read books by pagan lesbians and that didn't fundamentally alter my nature, so why would studies in BDSM?

"Is that against your 12-step group rules?"

Fuck! They're not damned Nazis. Yeah, it's titillating and therefore pushing it.

But whatever. I've been designated as dangerous to put one's faith in.

You've been warned.

Meanwhile I've been told I am to meet with my sponsor over coffee. Yeah, I don't have one yet. Haven't started working the steps.

I'm completely not prepared to announce to people that I have released my lust and am letting God work through me. Don't get me wrong—I feel an affinity with most members of the group... I'm just not religious. So. Not. Religious.

A guy in McDonald's today was talking too loud. He said something like "If it wasn't for Jesus, I wouldn't be able to love you." All I could think to myself was re-read your scripture, asshole. I think Jesus' message might have been different than that.

I've been baptized and confirmed in the Lutheran church. I know a little about the bible. A little about Luther. Memorized a bunch of stuff for a formal oral exam. And I'm not impressed. A church is no more or less good than any single person in it. They have meetings about meeting financial goals. They have politics and gossip. They worry about how they look compared to others.

I have known a few truly good-hearted and genuine people in the churches I have known, but too few, really.

I don't want to say God. I want to say All-That-Is, or the cosmos, or something. Something that hasn't been co-opted to mean something less than it once did.

If you want to talk about One-ness, or The Void, or The All, I think I can grasp that. Or even a deity from the pagan traditions.

But saying that God is working through me just seems pompous, elitist, and judgmental. Not to mention a little cuckoo.

I need to get more sleep.

This is all crazy-talk.