For the record, kids, I wasn't kicked out.

I left. Happy Halloween. Update. Where to start.
Friday night Meaghan and Liz arrived and we had a grand time of wine and doing the girl thing of discussing the status of every detail of our lives.

Saturday was B to tha Rent's birthday. She-ra (also known as me) attended. Stage 9 show was a lot of fun. We played exceptionally well, and were exceptionally buzzed. Then I decided to go to the Attic. The line up was ridiculous, and it was super packed inside. When I made it inside, I caught the end of Epworth's Nirvana which was rad as fuck. I then proceeded to find Andrew and Brad. Apparently they were backstage. Hmm. If they were backstage I could go backstage. So I was hanging out and what not, avec Colum.

Pause. I just had the overwhleming urge to be belligerent.

As if I didn't have enough amo for the suckiness of Blackout 77: The guitarist was wearing an 'oh this looks like a swastika on my t-shirt, but aren't I clever, its two sevens'. Impressive? No. Am I being ignorant? Of course. Sid did this... blah blah blah whatever. Disliking Blackout is nostalgic for me and reminesent of a bonding experience with a very close friend, long ago. So, shut up. I intend to stick with it, for old times sake. Therefore: Oh Blackout 77, you're so predictable in your suck.

But I digress. So we're trying to patiently await the suck to pass and the Bouncer comes over and starts hassling us to move 'out front'. Pushing a bit. Yes, perhaps he's just trying to do his job. Colum leaves. I say 'its not a big deal' to him, and attempt go and say lates to Andrew, who is now sitting comfortably in a fold-out chair. Suddenly, I feel these big hands picking me up and I'm thrown. Thrown right the fuck from the stage side.

And this is the part when She-ra lost her shit.

Its one thing to be a pushy oaf, but its another thing to use force against little She-ra.

I immediately started screaming:

You fucking cock! I hope you feel like you have a big cock for thowing around little girls YOU COCK!!!!!!!

This is about the time Goose arrives, and I start screaming, "He threw me!!! He pushed me!!! Saaayyy sommmething toooo him!!!!"

Goose tried to remedy the situation but the Bouncer was insistent:
She's gotta go, man.

She-ra was in a transient state of rage; at a point of no return. It was time to call it a night.

My last memory of the night was putting polysporin on my road rash knee I got when I slipped in my cowboy boots on the way home. I wasn't that smashed. It's just a bad idea to wear cowboy boots in the rain- not enough traction. Riiiight. Or maybe I was just too damn angry to walk correctly.

Bon voyage to Guatemala, my friends! Stay safe! I'll miss you! xo!

Oh, and fuck you, Attic.

Practice tonight, show tomorrow. I hope everyone shows up and is in their respective places both times. Yesterday, my near and dear south-end affiliates arrived back from Albany, New York where those lucky bastards saw Ween.
The word on the trip:
Ween: awesome
Albany: cracked-out ghetto.

Queen of Pepsi

While we criticize CNN for the over-sensationalism of news (I do, anyway), let's take a moment to consider the over-suckasization of news on ATV. Tonight, Peter Coade had a graphic of Wilma (a la Flinestones) in the middle of a satellite graphic of the hurricane with the same name. Cue laughter of one camera man, and a look from good ole Steve that said, "You fucking moron. Credible news is now dead. I hate you."

Of course, Frisky Frisko never disappoints, as the pervy poster-boy for the hair club for men.

But my favorite ATV anecdote would have to be of Marianna Ba-chins-kee, long lost Queen of Pepsi. A friend from Cape Breton oncetold me that many years ago, Marianna was crowned as Cape Breton Queen-of something or other. Her honorable duty? To sit in a castle made of Pepsi cans...At the Mall...For hours.

I love that story.

A Concept Post:

This is a song about a superhero named Tony It's called Tony's Theme He's got the oil on his chain, for a ride in the rain No baloney Ride around on my bicycle like a pony I'm waving hi, hi, hi, hi, hi Gu-gu-gu-Gimme a scream Give me, give me the theme Of Tony To-ny, To-ny, To-ny, To-ny, To-ny I am Tony, super bicycle Tony, I'm racing Spitfire turn and pop a wheelie, burn and evil chasing I'm waving bye, bye, bye, bye, bye I got a card in my spokes I'm practicing my joke, I'm learning To-ny, To-ny, To-ny, To-ny, To-ny This is a song about a superhero named Tony It's called Tony's Theme I can look at the sun if you give me some bad sun glasses I'm back on the road, I cut my grass like I'm told AFTER CLASSES! To-ny, To-ny, To-ny, To-ny, To-ny To-ny, To-ny, To-ny, To-ny, To-ny To-ny

Weekend of Shit

Well, not really. Brandrew's suprise birthday party was a fun time Friday night. I wish I could remember all the one-liners Dennis said: I.e., "There's a turkey in that bottle!"; regarding Brad's present of Wild Turkey. This comment and many others seemed a lot more hilarious at the time. Instead of contributing to Brad's liver failure, I bought him a harmonica. He says he's getting pretty good. Andrew got a super-Grover. The party was so intense that Brad was still missing the next afternoon when we were schedule to play the all-ages show. After I arrived to realize no one from my band was at the Khyber, I called around, and narrowed Brad's location down to Brent's couch. Andrew was on his way and Sean dropped off his gear and said he'd be back in an hour. I walked to Brent's to find he and Brad barely awake. Good thing the show was behind schedule. I sent Brad in a cab to get his guitar and meet us back at the Kyber. We were schedule to play last, but Sean's hour past... and hour and 1/2..... still no Sean.

Sean never showed up to the goddamn cancer benefit he arranged in the first place.

We set up our gear, the sound guy set up our sound, dmc re-arraged the lighting as to get some photos-he even got a ladder to get some choice shots. Myles encourged the crowd-that was quickly dwindling- to be patient. I called Sean's cell phone about 20 times.

I'll allow a brief pause while each of you who know me, all accross the country, and are full aware of my nasty temper, take a moment to gasp:

ooooo....whoa...that poor bastard.

What did Jen do? Not to worry, friends and readers. We all had a good laugh admist our disbelief and packed up at 6:00 pm. Of course, I was angry that Sean let down the band. But it was quite hirlarious that he had left about 50 people high and dry, with no phone call or explanation.

Its now Sunday night and he still hasen't bothered to apologize, other than a half-assed post on locals which admitted that, 'He's Brutal'. And this, my dear friends and readers; this, is the dripping, putrid, runny, muddy, shit, which I refer to.

Goodnight.

KARMIC JUSTICE FOR ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, for Andrew anyway. Back in the KNA days, Andrew left his amp somewhere. But he couldn't remember where. Last night when I arrived at practice, Sean mentioned that he inherited a random amp that was left unclaimed for many months at Stage Nine. The amp seemed familiar, but I don't have the technical know-how or care-enough to decipher one amp from another.

J:"Wouldn't it be funny if that was Andrew's long-lost amp?"
S: "Yes, that would be hir-larious."

5 minutes later, Andrew arrives:

"What the fuck?! My Amp!!!!!"


Imagine that. Andrew, you've done well; you are, and always will be, my Karmic Superior....you son of a bitch.

Fuck Cancer

HOTSHOTROBOT is playing a cancer benefit on Saturday afternoon at the Kyber Ballroom. Should be fun. All ages. Last time we played an all-ages show a preteen described my band as 'Sooooo New York'. I've been trying to figure out if she meant this in the perjorative ever since. Personally, I consider New York to be cool. But it's also violent. But there is lots of fashion. But lots of poverty too. Lots of street vendors. Bustling. Flashy. Guns.
Perhaps, HOTSHOTROBOT=1 bustling+ 2 flashy+500 cool x10 violence?? I'm not good at math.

Melody of Certain Damaged Lemons

Blonde Redhead. I really like this album this week. A friend lent it to me this summer, but it was during a time when all slow/contemplative/depressing music was banned from my life and cockrock was my life-force.

It Seems as if I Partied the Ear Infection Away

The Pop Explosion is now officially over, along with my 4 day bender. I don't have anything particularly cantankerous to say... it's been a fun time.

Wednesday: Nathan and I performed 'Love Shack' at kareoke, then IDN. Brad and I drank way, way too much (I never will learn that I can't keep up with Brad). Horsepower=hurt a lot next morning.

Thursday: Although I was extreamely hung-over, I made it out to Ted Leo. I was cranky and rude. The music was marginally good. However, Death by Nostalgia was incredible. I think they deserve to be upstairs on the main stage as much as anyone that night. I don't quite 'get' North of America. I mean, I get it, they're very good musicians but something was missing. That's what happens when you see a band for the first time that people have talked up extensively. I think I would have liked them 5 years ago... I like it when bands have a coherent sound, but I found the vocals especially redundant. I like melody. They reminded me of a disappointing version of Dismemberment Plan. I feel like I just shit-talked Jesus. I will stop now lest I fall into the red with my scene points. Sometimes my first judgement is not entirely accurate.

Friday: Managed to stumble out to Dog Day after falling asleep.

Saturday: Went to see the Hemingways, and then K'Naan and then back to the Attic for Chixdiggit. Going to Kaanan was a spur of the moment decision. It was very cool to see Megs and the concert itself was a lot better than I expected. I hope I didn't kill his vibe when I was engaged in belligerent discussion backstage. It seems as if saying the words 'Technical Director' could get you anywhere you wanted to be that night. Anyway, K'Naan stood beside me silently as the crowd chanted 'encore'; his energy was sooo spooky. He was so zoned and focused it didn't even seem like he was consciously a part of what was going on at all. Or maybe he was just stoned.
Thanks to a valley fan, I was fed many shots of tequila and proceeded to get 'Seahorse drunk' upon returning to the Attic. The rest is fuzzy, although I remember there was a lot of pushing and swearing involved. I got hit in the face. My lip is a tad swollen.

Props to C-Bear for sending me a very useful and informative book. I started it this morning.

Over and out.

Hey! You Know What Really Turns My Crank...

Kate and Anna Mcgarrigle as headliners at the Halifax Pop Explosion. According to its website, this festival is best known for "Featuring the very best in new and innovative music...". Hmm. Seems to me that Kate and Anna are as relevant to new music as a goddamn plastic bag blowing down the street. Or should I say, log...floating downstream.

The Power of a Dream

Dear Reader,

Life is full of ups and downs, in's and out's, nights and days, cats and dogs, shit and piss... Binaries and non-binaries. I thought that it has come time for me to publicly express my FEELINGS on this crazy road we call life....It's really deep, kinda like-
My hopes, my dreams...And even my fears....One person can make a difference. Can't you feel the flame forever burn? Teaching Lessons we must learn? Capital 'L' lessons?

Come on, now. Am I serious? You idiot. You should know better. YOU know how long I've made fun of this emotional-exhibitionist-self-moralizing-(god forbid) didactic-bullshit known as
'The Blog'.

This Blog is to act as an outlet for me to alienate, berate and criticize you and everyone you care about.

Good day.