Needless to say,......................
Biatch! Sniatch! Terrible licey, scabie infested house parties and dull day semantics of a small niche market town by the sea at the end of the world. Run on, run on sentences, go forth and make the mess you live in messier! tilt the wheels and let's wash the stains out of out undergarments before we shoose to reveal our old tired dirty parts to an audience for the first time. What a drag Victorians!
I said I was going to a barbeque today. I will not. My suspicions are that it will not be well attended and that the environs shall be unpleasant due mostly to inclimate weather.
Yes, there is suppose to be music and good food. However, freezing my titties off and eating smoked meat in the rain with a bunch of bar people in daylight just doesn't sound like fun.
It's Victoria day weekend! Yay!
I went to a party the other night to see what all the hype was about. I had been to this home before and had a lame time. Young adults that live like teenagers. Unkept and in a state of squalor.
The young and the restless were eagerly intoxicated by the start of some of the music I came to see. A drone act that was executed by a cute pudgy female from Vancouver. DAD was her act and had more people focused on the music than on each other it may have been more of a high lite. The dreadful babysitters played a raucous of shitty songs that we've all heard before in many better a song. Screaming and twitching out lines about generatins and revolutions does not cool thee make. Well, ok, maybe a little. Still it was slop. As this uncomfortable teet of an excuse for a venue progressed into vehement stupor, and the presence of the city officials became evident, I quickly made my escape.
Crap, my jeggings are filling with crap. But not like that girl with the twitch! Man what an itch she must have!
After being closely scrutinized for my cigarette habit I paid significant cash to see some barnd new boobies at logans.
Reserved seating in the front row of this bar that had been trasformed into dinner theatre stylingfs. candles and close quartes made for a moment of anticipation. The host made jokes that were odd and infunny. The ladies parqded one by one with cottage cheese cheeks and missing titties. Brand new boobies. Get some.
There was some spanking. It was amateur and quite frightful. I couldn't believe I spent BIG Bucks to see this crappola. I was trapped in my seat with no service. I just need another drink. That waitress is over there and can't even get to me.
By the time intermission came I was able to run to the ladies room for relief.
At the bar I filled up with a double order of drinks for the second portion of the evening. I was hoping this would get better. My hopes were quickly dashed as a woman in a clown suit took tpo the stage and slowly began to remove her items. This was more disturbing than enjoyable. All in all this was a rip off and I felt more ripped off as the night went on and the hosts kept bantering about more theatrical shows and better shows that were coming up and to quickly purchase my tix.
I bought a vibrator kit off the pool table and went home and had my way with myself.
Don't get me wrong, there have been some great shows I've seen since I last wrote. The Revolutionary Cyborg Wedding Band, Himalayan Bear, Beach House, Bank Robber, David P. Smith and the Euphorians, some kids I can't recall the names of but they were very happy and wore turqoise t-shirts. AHna and Medusa were freak Heat waves good.
Lot's of good stuff. The girl band thing seems to be tapering off a bit. The open relations
hip wer better each time I got to see them. A great cover og Jet Boy! Happy Boys & Girls tv club haven't been playing. real stinker.
I'm trying my best to be more positive. Howebver, what you like about this stuff is hearing shit about yourseld and ny typos!
Food arounf town is ok to crap-suggest something and I will review. The best thing I've had is a sandwich from the italian food store on Blanchard, Good simple sandwich. Mmmmmmax xo
p.s. will write again soon my beauties (;
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Truth Be Told Victoria
Love! Love! Love! The spirit of love is in the air! Cupids and blazing little cinammon hearts,formals,elixirs of sweet head swimming froth! Tongues lapping beneath dancefloor lights. Croons of thigh opening power and chocolate dildos!
Love!
Ok, you get the point. And maybe you're happy to be alone with a box and a bottle. Maybe the intentions of having a lovely romantic night shared with tens of your close friends were lost in the musty smell of your shitty outfit from the patch. Maybe, love is
hate for you. Maybe bad music is good music, good art is bad art and dressing up is just so fucking hard so you'll just kind of throw whatever together. Unless you're fat and looking to hook up. Then your hair is spectacular, the make up splendid and the gown superb.
For many of you this might make no sense, but to some that shared a somewhat busy, chaotic, and quite confusing night last night with me at Logans Pub, my words should ring like the sirens of titan.
Boys and Girls TV Club opened a night that was apparently a formal. It certainly felt like a high school dance when this shabby duo took to the stage. This boy creature sings with his eyes on his fingers because he is still learning how to play his guitar.
The drummer maked Meg White look like John Bonham. Do you get that? Because John Bonham is a really good drummer and Meg white has flippers for hands.
This band, who for some reason keep getting gigs, and I keep being there, keep sucking hard. I hope every time that they will have practiced and improved and some acheling Lou Reed listening love would get through to the cjild creatures brain. But no. They break a string, it makesd no difference, yet the show must stop until a guitar has been made available to this joke. A bad joke.
This night was so weird. Trendy girls with bad eyeglasses and worse attitudes were being hightened by "powdereing their noses" in the restroom.
The little groups of friends all clustered together like dingleberries around a giant rectum of an event that smells most foul. This was soooo high school. Like so highschool ;p
Next up were Babysitter. Another band that in the past I felt lacked any kind opf musical merit and fell in with the crowd just because they are all friends.
Unlike Boys and Girls TV Club, I felt that this band had improved greatly since the last time I had seen them. They opened thematically with the Jefferson Airplane classic 'Need Somebody To Love'. This fell a part fairly rapidly however. But the next few songs were better. Poppy grinding garage rocky diddys. After a few songs it felt like they were playing the same song over. Until their last song which seemed to have some potential as psych rock. Which these guys are supposed to be versed in as they host a Psych Night. And seem to somehow be in cahoots with Monster Party.
I don't get it. Monster Party is great and the Psych DJ thing is terrible. Whatevs.
Next up were Himalayan Bear. This was orgasmic. The crooning fluttery vocals lifted this room into a different place altogether. A completely different calibre of musicianship. They seperated the bays from the men. Everyone else seemed preconceptioned next to this group. The drummer had wild expressions and a fluid tenacity that made me practically burst with hope and joy. The violin player was beautiful and sounded equally so. The music was warped doo wop yet so hard to pin hole modern and rich sounding.
It was so confusing that this act should be placed amidst such crap. I don't get it. Not one bit.
Some slow danced and most chattered quite abrassively in their dingleberry clusters. So strange how the focus was met by the inhabitants of this pathetic event.
The last band were Footsies. This was faux punk at it's most pathetic. Crowd surfing that was weak and felt forced. Ranting and raving, I can't see this holding up in any kind of a music scene. Their end was to demolish the stage and force a very angry soundguy to the stage who looked like he was ready for blood.
Starnge pathetically arranged formal. I'm not sure who won best dressed. I hope it was won of the fat girls. At least they tried.
Thurs. I went to Lday Marmalade for lunch. OIt had been recommended to me, and I was told of some great art that wqas being displayed. Upon entry, I instantly felyt the bitter sting of too coll for school service. I stood, waiting for a bit to be seated and examined some of the works on the wall.
Rachelle Reimers works were childlike. Seriously childlike in a bad unartistic child way. Splotches of Black and green that were puked upon the canvas. An appauling price of 95$ was being asked for this unthought shit on the wall. Puke. Shit. Whatever. It took the artist 2 min. to create this insult. If it took anymore, they must be mentally and physically crippled. If you are Rachelle, my sincerest apologies. Great work.
Kat Cearns is a different story. A man kneels in contemplation adorning a wolf skin.
A woman by his side in Buck skin. They are both naked. The colours are vivid and stark. Quite complementary. Blues and pinks. No matter how you slice it. it looks good. Not great art, but next to Rachelles work, it looks like DaVinci.
No one came to seat us. We left.
Truth Be Told Victoria, you have a capacity for spoiled children who must have wealth to proclaim their artistry as such. I'm not saying there isn't quality work here, because their plainly is. I'm just saying that it is out numbered and possibly being shrouded with veils of spoiled trash and that stinks and makes it hard to breathe or get close to.
Happy Valentines Day
Love you,
Max xo
Love!
Ok, you get the point. And maybe you're happy to be alone with a box and a bottle. Maybe the intentions of having a lovely romantic night shared with tens of your close friends were lost in the musty smell of your shitty outfit from the patch. Maybe, love is
hate for you. Maybe bad music is good music, good art is bad art and dressing up is just so fucking hard so you'll just kind of throw whatever together. Unless you're fat and looking to hook up. Then your hair is spectacular, the make up splendid and the gown superb.
For many of you this might make no sense, but to some that shared a somewhat busy, chaotic, and quite confusing night last night with me at Logans Pub, my words should ring like the sirens of titan.
Boys and Girls TV Club opened a night that was apparently a formal. It certainly felt like a high school dance when this shabby duo took to the stage. This boy creature sings with his eyes on his fingers because he is still learning how to play his guitar.
The drummer maked Meg White look like John Bonham. Do you get that? Because John Bonham is a really good drummer and Meg white has flippers for hands.
This band, who for some reason keep getting gigs, and I keep being there, keep sucking hard. I hope every time that they will have practiced and improved and some acheling Lou Reed listening love would get through to the cjild creatures brain. But no. They break a string, it makesd no difference, yet the show must stop until a guitar has been made available to this joke. A bad joke.
This night was so weird. Trendy girls with bad eyeglasses and worse attitudes were being hightened by "powdereing their noses" in the restroom.
The little groups of friends all clustered together like dingleberries around a giant rectum of an event that smells most foul. This was soooo high school. Like so highschool ;p
Next up were Babysitter. Another band that in the past I felt lacked any kind opf musical merit and fell in with the crowd just because they are all friends.
Unlike Boys and Girls TV Club, I felt that this band had improved greatly since the last time I had seen them. They opened thematically with the Jefferson Airplane classic 'Need Somebody To Love'. This fell a part fairly rapidly however. But the next few songs were better. Poppy grinding garage rocky diddys. After a few songs it felt like they were playing the same song over. Until their last song which seemed to have some potential as psych rock. Which these guys are supposed to be versed in as they host a Psych Night. And seem to somehow be in cahoots with Monster Party.
I don't get it. Monster Party is great and the Psych DJ thing is terrible. Whatevs.
Next up were Himalayan Bear. This was orgasmic. The crooning fluttery vocals lifted this room into a different place altogether. A completely different calibre of musicianship. They seperated the bays from the men. Everyone else seemed preconceptioned next to this group. The drummer had wild expressions and a fluid tenacity that made me practically burst with hope and joy. The violin player was beautiful and sounded equally so. The music was warped doo wop yet so hard to pin hole modern and rich sounding.
It was so confusing that this act should be placed amidst such crap. I don't get it. Not one bit.
Some slow danced and most chattered quite abrassively in their dingleberry clusters. So strange how the focus was met by the inhabitants of this pathetic event.
The last band were Footsies. This was faux punk at it's most pathetic. Crowd surfing that was weak and felt forced. Ranting and raving, I can't see this holding up in any kind of a music scene. Their end was to demolish the stage and force a very angry soundguy to the stage who looked like he was ready for blood.
Starnge pathetically arranged formal. I'm not sure who won best dressed. I hope it was won of the fat girls. At least they tried.
Thurs. I went to Lday Marmalade for lunch. OIt had been recommended to me, and I was told of some great art that wqas being displayed. Upon entry, I instantly felyt the bitter sting of too coll for school service. I stood, waiting for a bit to be seated and examined some of the works on the wall.
Rachelle Reimers works were childlike. Seriously childlike in a bad unartistic child way. Splotches of Black and green that were puked upon the canvas. An appauling price of 95$ was being asked for this unthought shit on the wall. Puke. Shit. Whatever. It took the artist 2 min. to create this insult. If it took anymore, they must be mentally and physically crippled. If you are Rachelle, my sincerest apologies. Great work.
Kat Cearns is a different story. A man kneels in contemplation adorning a wolf skin.
A woman by his side in Buck skin. They are both naked. The colours are vivid and stark. Quite complementary. Blues and pinks. No matter how you slice it. it looks good. Not great art, but next to Rachelles work, it looks like DaVinci.
No one came to seat us. We left.
Truth Be Told Victoria, you have a capacity for spoiled children who must have wealth to proclaim their artistry as such. I'm not saying there isn't quality work here, because their plainly is. I'm just saying that it is out numbered and possibly being shrouded with veils of spoiled trash and that stinks and makes it hard to breathe or get close to.
Happy Valentines Day
Love you,
Max xo
Monday, January 17, 2011
Truth Be Told Victoria
So here we are. A coouple of weeks into the new year and not too much has changed. People are still who they are and shit still stinks. The roads are awash with winter rain and the people that drive are still bad at it and worse when the weather isn't perfect. Cyclists are crazier than ever, moving in careless flashes through and with/against traffic and bearing all the weather. Art has slowed down and music has bundled itself into some starnge and pointless balls of pure putrid stench. Laugh with me or at me or don't laugh at all. I've taken abuse and compliment, all of it, as a poke and a caress of firey love and stinky hatred.
Last week I went out to the Fernwood Inn. It felt oddly uncomfortable and hoity toity. It was over priced and the selection sucked. For the neighbourhood it felt like a miss. Rich theatre going filth.
Wednesday I headed down to Logans for the record swap night. I was quite disappointed that it was not happening. This was shitty, as the bar wasn't as lively or interesting as I had hoped it would be, and I didn't really feel like venturing all the way downtown just to sit in some other shitty bar.
So, a bottle of wine and home.
Thursday I checked out White Ribs, Golden Axe and Human Demise. This was at Logans and rocked! It was excruciatingly loud, but the underlying melodies that rang beneath the veil of noise was panty wettingly good stuff! White Ribs! Two guys with no shirts and hoods over their heads railing the train through your head with subliminal psych overtones. This was amazing! You missed out.
Friday night I got talked into going out to Lucky bar. Why I keep doing this to myself I don't know. DJ basketball shitty dance night. The music was all terrible, it's just the crowd is an immature ass grabbing bag of cocks! A friend and I left and went to Swans.
This was ok. Pretty typical bar with a typical bar band. Too loud to talk. Kind of ok though. The yam fries were great!
Saturday I went to the movies. True Grit. I love the Cohen Brothers. They do not disappoint. Go see it.
Sunday I went to the Hootenanny at Logans. This is an open stage that is apparently world famous. People tend to know a lot of the songs that are being performed by their regulars. The bar is super packed and thanks to waitresses I was able to get drinks without waiting in line. This is quite a piss up. I cannot emphasize it enough. Sunday afternoon debauchery! I had no idea. I don't think this is something I can repeat too often. However, it certainly does seal the neighbourhood kinship and Logans as the headquarters for all walks from not just the neighbourhood but the entire city. Pretty impressive.
Truth be told Victoria, I am one hungover little lady today! Still fuzzy and I'm certain it is reflected in this weeks blog. Blog. Blog. Blog. Blog.
Love Max xo
Last week I went out to the Fernwood Inn. It felt oddly uncomfortable and hoity toity. It was over priced and the selection sucked. For the neighbourhood it felt like a miss. Rich theatre going filth.
Wednesday I headed down to Logans for the record swap night. I was quite disappointed that it was not happening. This was shitty, as the bar wasn't as lively or interesting as I had hoped it would be, and I didn't really feel like venturing all the way downtown just to sit in some other shitty bar.
So, a bottle of wine and home.
Thursday I checked out White Ribs, Golden Axe and Human Demise. This was at Logans and rocked! It was excruciatingly loud, but the underlying melodies that rang beneath the veil of noise was panty wettingly good stuff! White Ribs! Two guys with no shirts and hoods over their heads railing the train through your head with subliminal psych overtones. This was amazing! You missed out.
Friday night I got talked into going out to Lucky bar. Why I keep doing this to myself I don't know. DJ basketball shitty dance night. The music was all terrible, it's just the crowd is an immature ass grabbing bag of cocks! A friend and I left and went to Swans.
This was ok. Pretty typical bar with a typical bar band. Too loud to talk. Kind of ok though. The yam fries were great!
Saturday I went to the movies. True Grit. I love the Cohen Brothers. They do not disappoint. Go see it.
Sunday I went to the Hootenanny at Logans. This is an open stage that is apparently world famous. People tend to know a lot of the songs that are being performed by their regulars. The bar is super packed and thanks to waitresses I was able to get drinks without waiting in line. This is quite a piss up. I cannot emphasize it enough. Sunday afternoon debauchery! I had no idea. I don't think this is something I can repeat too often. However, it certainly does seal the neighbourhood kinship and Logans as the headquarters for all walks from not just the neighbourhood but the entire city. Pretty impressive.
Truth be told Victoria, I am one hungover little lady today! Still fuzzy and I'm certain it is reflected in this weeks blog. Blog. Blog. Blog. Blog.
Love Max xo
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Truth Be Told Victoria
Truth be told Victoria, you're a strange lot! Pretty wimpy on most fronts. The Art is mediocre to poor at best. The food is trying. The music....this seems to be your strong point.
The cliqueee night life is quite disappointing. Not much can get done as far as creating a well rounded counter culture to birth greatness from if you don't mix yourselves up a bit.
Also, you are a real whiney bunch. This isn't cold! Go anywhere else in Canada or the northern U.S. and you will freeze your tight little babied asses off!
Anyhow, I am back! And for this entry I am making a best of and worst of list. I'm sure I'm on many of your worst of lists, but then again, I'm also on many of your best ofs.
Worst bands I've seen since coming to Victoria-
Electric Empress
Whatever that last act was at the Camas benefit show at Logans last tuesday. Chicken Man.
A Day in the Life
VonBones
Kristian Values/Babysitter
Boys and Girls TV club
Growler
Techromancer
Zolabud
Year of the Rat
And a few I'm sure I have forgotten
Best Bands/acts I've had the plaesure to see since arriving here-
Leonard Cohen (I know he's not local,but he is Canadian so does he count?)
Slam Dunk
High Arctic
Run Chico Run
Himalayan Bear
The Poor Choices
The Revolutionary Cyborg Band
The Role models
Whatever that band was at Talk is Cheap that night I went
Bank Robber (though they might as well be Slam Dunk)
Fujiya Yakimoto in a couple of months if they stay together
Best Venue-
Logans
Talk is Cheap
Sugar
Open Space
Worst-
Rehab
Save on Foods
Lucky
That place under the sticky wicket
Whatever the 50/50 in hindsight seems to hold promise. Some of the artists works I've seen outside of the gallery and on their own accord hold some merit and hope.
I can see how if one were to step outside of a scene here how they could get some work done. The arts are a funny thing in this city. The Art gallery truly sucks dicks and the lack of direction among the creative spirit is encouraged by the people who run this city.
WTF?! That seems to be where the real problem here is. A major lack of support and funding. This town is filled to the brim with the filthy rich, and they seem to do nothing to help it's culture grow and flourish.
Truth Be told Victoria I would love to suck you off if you had the balls to come all over the place!
Much love,
Max xo
The cliqueee night life is quite disappointing. Not much can get done as far as creating a well rounded counter culture to birth greatness from if you don't mix yourselves up a bit.
Also, you are a real whiney bunch. This isn't cold! Go anywhere else in Canada or the northern U.S. and you will freeze your tight little babied asses off!
Anyhow, I am back! And for this entry I am making a best of and worst of list. I'm sure I'm on many of your worst of lists, but then again, I'm also on many of your best ofs.
Worst bands I've seen since coming to Victoria-
Electric Empress
Whatever that last act was at the Camas benefit show at Logans last tuesday. Chicken Man.
A Day in the Life
VonBones
Kristian Values/Babysitter
Boys and Girls TV club
Growler
Techromancer
Zolabud
Year of the Rat
And a few I'm sure I have forgotten
Best Bands/acts I've had the plaesure to see since arriving here-
Leonard Cohen (I know he's not local,but he is Canadian so does he count?)
Slam Dunk
High Arctic
Run Chico Run
Himalayan Bear
The Poor Choices
The Revolutionary Cyborg Band
The Role models
Whatever that band was at Talk is Cheap that night I went
Bank Robber (though they might as well be Slam Dunk)
Fujiya Yakimoto in a couple of months if they stay together
Best Venue-
Logans
Talk is Cheap
Sugar
Open Space
Worst-
Rehab
Save on Foods
Lucky
That place under the sticky wicket
Whatever the 50/50 in hindsight seems to hold promise. Some of the artists works I've seen outside of the gallery and on their own accord hold some merit and hope.
I can see how if one were to step outside of a scene here how they could get some work done. The arts are a funny thing in this city. The Art gallery truly sucks dicks and the lack of direction among the creative spirit is encouraged by the people who run this city.
WTF?! That seems to be where the real problem here is. A major lack of support and funding. This town is filled to the brim with the filthy rich, and they seem to do nothing to help it's culture grow and flourish.
Truth Be told Victoria I would love to suck you off if you had the balls to come all over the place!
Much love,
Max xo
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