Our Many-Legged Friends 20 November 1999

10:50 AM: UghUghUghUghUghUghUghUghUghUghUghUghUghUGH! I was sitting here in bed re-reading Virtual Light when I noticed this brown thing moving on the quilt, around on the front of my leg. I jerked in reflex and it's this big big all legs and brown and BUG right here where I sleep, waaah! I did that really embarassing scream thing that I always do when I get nastily surprised, I'd say just like a girl except probably most of the girls I know would never scream like that. Satjumped up and grabbed the magazine section from the Sunday paper last week, which of course was right next to me at the head of the bed, and beat the living ick out of it. Only problem is, on the last pound I hit the mattress too hard and the bug bounced away somewhere. Now I'm going to step on it in bare feet, I just know it. Blech.

Fuck. I hate that so much. I'm going to be hallucinating crawly things for a week now. Really need to clean this place up.

So, Thursday, Down By Law, pretty good, loud sincere punk band, but not costume punk, just fast crank guitar and a drummer who looked like Popeye on speed if he was a puppet. The singer kept giving little speech/intros, really fast because he was out of breath, being a wee bit on the chunky side and working hard on those chords.

Then came the band that I thought was opening, Lunachicks, but they turned out not to be who I was thinking of at all. There's some local band with a name like that, they opened for Joan Jett once, big girls, very no-fashion. Lunachicks are anti-that. Four young punk girls in big shoes and skin tight plastic black & yellow cheerleader outfits, kabuki mascara and wide glittery lipstick and full sleeve tattoos, the bass player had them all on her thighs and probably other places too, that we weren't privileged to see. The singer wasn't really that much taller than the other girls, I bet, but she had 8" platform boots on, so that she stood head and shoulders above them. Very vampy, stagey. I don't know how it'd sound to just hear them, but watching them was great fun. They were kind of like the Ramones if the Ramones had been middle-class girls from Manhattan.

Buzzcocks were LOUDDDDDD. I was still partially deaf Friday, went through the whole day feeling like I had a coffee can over my head. Fun fun. I would never have thought of them as a punk band, but the kids seem to like it, because it was fast and goofy I guess. Pete Shelley is short and has a big frog neck and receding bleached hair, just like me! We're both really old now. Dibble looks exactly the same. I liked their new songs, though I couldn't tell you a name or anything. They played "Love You More", and though they stretched it out too long - the biggest flaw in the show - I thought about how many times I'd wrapped that song around one crush or another, and got all misty-eyed. Pathetic. They did "Harmony in my Head" as part of the encore, too, and I'm not the only one who sings along really badly to it, glad to say.

Many movies this weekend. Why am I awake, why did I wake up at 9 AM, when yesterday after getting paged at 8:30 and working at home here until nearly 11, I just laid down for a second to rest really uh huh, and woke up at 3 PM? Because I am fucked in the head, this seems to be the simplest explanation.

Oh man, blargh. Damn bug. I look at girls now, you know, and before when I would have thought something like, Oh, I'd never have a chance, now it's different. Now, I realize that even I had a chance, had 17 chances and a hotel suite, it wouldn't matter, because what could I do about it? Nothing. So I shouldn't even be thinking about it. 10? 20? 30 more years like this? Lovely. Come on, earthquake.

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep. © 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.