Welcome to the other side, Monday morning World Baseball Classic Managers... last things first, why the F did Davey Johnson take out my man and prime Phillie, the Flyin' Hawaiian, "Sugar" Shane Victorino, a switch hitter against a righty with a man on third and one out, and bring in Evan "Eva" Longoria to strike out right handed, strand LaRosa (is that right, or was it DeRosa?), and lose momentum, and then allow three more Jap runs in the ninth? I don't know, but if I was the Sweet One, I'd be unleashing the Famous Grouse all the way back to Philly! Go Team Korea!
On Thursday, Tit Patrol was supposed to play down at Chris Ba-Durr!'s house on Madison Drive (why does that street name sound familiar?), but the Main Man was doin' the right thing and filling in for his co-worker on her birthday, so they lucked out and got the Fabulous Headies instead! I was slightly concerned that the slightly more cerebral Otis Redding/Chuck Berry/Heartbreakers/Ramones style punk the Headies do would go over people's heads (we couldn't have less to do with the Misfits), but Ba-Durr! and company went balls out for us and we kicked all the ass, as per usual. Unfortunately we showed up late (the show started at 4pm, and we all had to get out of work first), and missed the opening bands. We talked to the first band S.H.O.T. and they were cool and young and I can't wait to hear them. We're gonna bring 'em up to the Spot, apparently they're neighborhood kids! Next was Pukescreamer featuring Ivan Frankenstein, Sammy Terrifica, and more of my friends, but I'm not sure which! We got there in time for Ba-Durr! who were spankin' it in front of a full Maddy living room. Next Atlas played, and they sure did sound like they had the weight of the world on their shoulders! The Headies played (hopefully) our final set as a three-piece... just wait, you'll love it! The best part of a great night was after the set we were hangin' with Ba-Durr!, engaging in non-illicit activities, our new friend Shirtless Sam showed up... Move over J-Vav, Jess Erving, and Razorcake Magazine, Tit Patrol has a new biggest fan! Some dude was giving tattooes in the bathroom, and Sam stepped into all our hearts by getting the first ever Tit Patrol tattoo! He had Toddy draw the Titty Kitty off the "Robot Pope" 7" on his arm, BIG on his arm, and he got it inked in green! He now receives free Tit merch for life, and we will beat people up for him if he wants us to! I got the pic on my phone, which is solid but free of features, so when I can get my bro to extract it for me, I'll post that glorificous body art! Special cred for Peter "Awesome" Dawson for staying to see us and taking down an entire mosh-room single-handedly while holding a camera! And to King Eric Tragic and Maria for being so freakin' cool!
On the way home from the show on Maddy, Toddy got a call from Grant, who reminded him that he had booked a touring band from Boston (loosely from Boston, we would find), at the Spot months ago. Unfortunately the original booking was the last that my boys had discussed it, so we called up our friends in Ba-Durr! and asked them if they wanted the impromtu gig. Of course they were in to rock, so that was three bands. Todd called Sexon Horses drummer and Spot landlord/proprietor Rocky Highlands (Sean On Horses), who had given these two other bands we don't know the night, so there ya go, show booked. We let the two bands Seany booked go first, as we figured the people who came out were there for Tit Patrol and Ba-Durr! Plus, someone brought a baby, and we wanted it out! Anyway, the first band was inspired by bands like Nickleback or other radio-friendly neu-rock, and the second band was a Korn-clone whose singer looked like mine, Grant, and the Rad One's old neighbor on Delaware Circle, Loki, but it was some other dude, who I'm pretty sure randomly said "Fuck You" to me when I walked by him and his little bro or partner or whatever (who WAS wearing a T.J. Ford Milwaukee Bucks jersey, so props!) They were balding with dread-locks! I thought there was no way to decrease the value of dread-locks, but there ya go! I felt a bit for these dudes, who are playing a kind of music that was popular for a brief time, they clearly fell in love with it, and continue to play it, even if no one wants to hear it. I respect that, but I just don't wanna see it, or have it in my presence! It was brutal, and depressing, and their twenty-five minute sets seemed to last eternally! The band from Boston was called Strike Orange, and they each had a distinct look, which I like. The singer/bass player was punk-as-fuck with patches covering everything that metal studs were not, and a fedora. The guitar player was super-skinny Asian with long crimped hair. The other guitar player looked like John Pyle in a thin disguise and mustache, and the drummer looked like a pretty boy California kid. He confided in us that he was actually from Vermont and a bit nervous about the so-called "hood" that the Spot is in... oi vey! Anyhoo, they played punkish har-edged music that veered heavily into metal sounding riffs, and claimed that school was facist. Now, by the time Ba-Durr! and the Tit were going to play, everyone had much time to drink beers and whiskies, so we were all in top form. Ba-Durr! was great as usual, and I'm liking getting to know those bone-heads, even if Alex did make fun of your Otherworldly Headies for like their whole set for thinking we are/being cool. Apparently he didn't get the memo: I AM THE GOLDEN GOOSE AND NOT TO BE TRIFLED WITH! Ah well, he'll learn. I like them. And then tit Tit, the Tit. We played until we had to close, much to the angry chagrin of the Main Man and Grant, who wanted to keep goin'. We all did, but time had run out, so we wrecked the stage and I ran home to bed and my woman and my...
Claudia Boulton
6 years ago
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