...seriously, I can't. I can only type "Best Week Ever," mainly because I am mute -- like Helen Keller, except a dood, alive, and well, able to type.
Since I am finally graced with some leisure time, I might as well document the events of last week.
Valentine's Day was, as usual, spent cold and single. However, I drove up to see Suz and her fellow UIC med students and to watch my copy of Battle Royale. In addition to Japanese school kids spilling blood and guts everywhere, Suz's friend Goro made a very delicious Amaretto chocolate cake. Suz, Brian, and Goro also discussed who would survive their own "Med School" Battle Royale fight... and believe me, you don't know how vicious med students can really get!
I fear the future doctors of tomorrow.
On Thursday, Zach drove up from Champaign-Urbana to play with Miles and Brian Waterloo (otherwise collectively known as "Costanza") at a downtown club called The Note. At first, I thought that Costanza was playing a solo show, but I soon learned that it was a battle of the bands type of deal for the Emergenza Music Festival. Each band was ranked with a show of hands, and the top four bands were allowed to move onto the next stage of the competition.
The first band, aptly called "Gates of Purgatory," was everything you'd expect with a name like that. Looks can be deceiving, however: they said they were from Park Ridge (or "Action Ridge" as Sara sarcastically calls it), and they plugged their MySpace account. Gates of Purgatory looked like a bunch of overweight high school kids stuffed uncomfortably into a pair of tight, leather jeans, and -- despite the band's death metal sound and let's-reenact-Columbine looking demeanor -- were as tough and hardcore as long-haired, gothic puppies. The band members even brought their parents to the show (which, of course, were their only voters).
The second band was like a bad (or worse, if you're not a fan) version of Fall Out Boy. Again, these chaps plugged their MySpace account, begin to screech off-key, and proceeded to jump up and down and crash into each other like drunken hare. I know these guys were from high school, because they proudly stated, "We're The Advisory, and we're from St. Pious!" Immediately, a crowd of kids started cheering, most of whom were holding beers. This was a 21+ show, mind you, but I even saw a bandmate's 6-year-old brother sitting in front of me.
The third band, Verona Red, was pretty good, although they too plugged their MySpace account. The lead singer also sounded too much like Scott Stapp, and that always sends shivers down my spine. The band kind of shivers.
The fourth band was named Perfect Red (people love their reds) and was by far the most polished-sounding band that night. My own problem was the lead singer: He'd jump off the stage and run around the venue, screaming into people faces. He also did this weird Nazi-Heil-Hitler kind of hand gestures throughout his set. The fact that his head was shaved didn't help his case, either.
Costanza finally came on, and they rocked the house with what I can describe as their irreverent humor in both their antics and songs. Like EVERYONE ELSE, they too plugged their MySpace account, and my only problem I had with Zach and his crew was when the MC said, "...and from Glen Ellyn..." I cringed a little, perhaps because I preferred them to be from Chicago, not some rich, yuppie town such as Glen Ellyn.
I left with Sara at around 11:30, and after dropping Sara off, I spent an hour-and-a-half getting lost and trying to get back home. Later that next day, I learned that Costanza placed 3rd, and will play again on the 29th of April.
Friday night was the Stars concert, and I can only say it was FUCKING PHENOMENAL. Sara, Allan, and I got there rather late and missed the opening band. We also couldn't get a decent spot near the stage, and to make matters worse, a very tall couple kept making out in front of us.
Behind us, some middle-aged prick and a young, precocious cunt were talking too loud and having a conversation. Allan even heard them say, "Man, their mic is too low. I can hear ourselves over the music."
I immediately turned around and shouted, "Shut the fuck up, you assholes. I didn't pay $26 to hear you talk!" as people clapped around me... or at least, that's how I envisioned it would happen.
Nonetheless, the concert was great and everything I hoped for. Seeing Torq Campbell play the trumpet and Amy Millan rock out on her guitar was worth the minor annoyances. Stars played all my favorite songs, ending their first set and encore set with "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" and "Calendar Girl," respectively -- both of which causes my heart to lump up into my throat. Of course, that could have just been a weird case of heartburn.
On Saturday, Alan Kaplan and St. Lunatic Nate came to Palatine, and is with the case everytime I encounter someone from St. Louis, things get messy.
Kaps told me to buy some gin, and since it was on sale at Jewels for $15.99, I bought a handle. When I got to where they were staying, Nate proposed that we should not leave for the bars until the entire handle is finished; "House Rules," he proclaimed.
After killing off an entire handle in 2 hours between five people, we went to this bar in Schaumburg. There was apparently a 5 dollar cover, but Kaplan and I just simply walked past the bouncer and entered the bar. Things get blurry then. All I recall is waking up in the bathroom stall -- pants up and everything -- and going back to Nate's co-worker's house.
I awoke at 8:30 or so, watched some Legends of the Hidden Temple, and found Nate using his co-worker's Indian flag as a blanket.
On Sunday, I was going to hang out with Andre and his co-workers at Boystown, but I was too pooped to do anything. I literally slept the entire day, even forgoing Adult Swim and Subterranean later that night.
Well, that wraps up a pretty damn good week. Time to get back to work (and this, too).
pleasantly brought
to you by phillip retuta Thursday, February 23, 2006 @
7:57 PM
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