Mess of Beer and Bodies

A review of last night's show:

AWESOME.

Ty Segall at the Parkside was one hot, sweaty, beer-soaked mess. He went on first, for which Kate and I were much relieved. It's pretty fucking annoying when the act you came specifically to see doesn't go on till the wee hours of the morning. As it was, the show started about an hour and a half later than expected, but there he was, alive and breathing and screaming and yipping into the mic. The sound check consisted of him whooping and yelping and making funny faces from under his blond curls. He's very good live, so good in fact, that two or three or four guys thought it would be totally bitchin' to start moshing already. Unfortunately, the rest of us weren't quite amped up/drunk enough yet to join in, except for Dumb Drunk Bitch, who shook her tits and her stomach and stumbled and fell into them and us repeatedly. Kate got elbowed pretty pretty viciously by one flying asshole, and anytime one of them came at us, we shoved and punched and knocked them right back.

By the third band, oh boy. Some hot ladies screaming lustily at us, as we watched and moshed, slicked over with sweat and adrenaline. During one song, the pit got so intense I was actually sucked in, jumping up and down, bashing fools left and right, completely indiscriminate, my big red hoops swinging wildly from my ears. That was also when Kate got carried away into the depths of the crowd. When I finally got my head above to breathe, she was nowhere in sight, and I couldn't tell if the people smiling at me when I looked around thought I was cool or a total fuckwad loser. After a few songs she managed to wade her way back to where she'd been before, to my immense relief.

Alas, my plans for seducing Mr. Segall failed, though I came close to grabbing his butt when we walked behind him before he went on. I stopped myself, figuring it probably wasn't the time or place. Still, having a semi-famous guy right there is kind've exciting. Apparently whatever pheramones I'd intended to release into his face lay dormant until the third band, Mika Miko (also bitchin'), came on, when this sleazy-ass motherfucker somehow forced Kate away so he could stand next to me and ogle me with disturbing intensity while I was rocking out. It was when I started moshing that he, like Kate, got pulled away, but thankfully he didn't find his way back. Maybe he saw me punching those crazy fuckers and got scared.

The end of it was us being too wrecked to rock any longer and we caught a bus out of there.

Can you say whoa-oh?