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Jun. 19th, 2007 03:19 amOk, ok. I finally broke down and bought Venture Brothers on DVD, and just as expected, every single episode with the exceptions of the ones people sat me down and said "Oh my god, this is the best show ever, you should watch this" are amazingly funny. Testicular Torsion, not funny. Episode combining The Scooby Gang doubling as (partly) serial killers, Frankenstein and a peyote trip, funny. So, mea culpa. I was wrong. I was wrong to ever doubt. I can get along without. I can love my fellow... err, sorry, more than a decade in the goth scene and you just start randomly breaking into Sisters of Mercy lyrics. It happens. Don't become me. Start wearing pink while there's still time.
Death Guild was fun tonight. Too damned crowded, but at least it was just flat out impossible to dance most of the time, instead of fooling you into a false sense of security and then having half the dance floor simultaneously kick you in the shins. Dear summer people. Learn to dance. Post-haste. Thank you. Instead I spent a lot of time goofing off with Starr in our nook (Ask us nicely and we might perform interpretive dance to The Sparrows and The Nightingales at your next social function), and singing along to everything overly dramatically. Seriously, Peter Murphy's got nothing on me. I can do a mean Bela Lugosi's Dead. You could almost see David Bowie having vampire sex/murder in flash cuts behind me, just like the beginning of The Hunger. Such is the amazing power I wield. Eventually I just wandered off upstairs and danced myself moist and into a nice endorphin buzz. Because everything worth doing is worth doing until you're wet and in danger of passing out. Which makes a whopping two things worth doing apparently.
Brand Upon The Brain! is unbelievably awesome. If you appreciate the bizarre, you desperately need to see it. Probably sometime in the next week, because in my experience, most of the universe doesn't actually appreciate the bizarre, so it probably won't stick around for long. It doesn't quite have the beautiful simplicity of Sissy Boy Slap Party, but that's quite a peak to aspire to. It is at least as good as The Saddest Music In The World.
Now I'm home again, home again. Sent off my offer letter, so I've got a week left of freedom before I return to the bit mines. Feel myself sinking rapidly into an incredibly tiresome "I am going to die alone" headspace, which is always fun. Maybe I'll just throw all of my energy into work instead. Woo! That's possibly the funniest thing I've ever said. I don't see why I haven't been having more luck attempting to date. I'm hilarious.
Death Guild was fun tonight. Too damned crowded, but at least it was just flat out impossible to dance most of the time, instead of fooling you into a false sense of security and then having half the dance floor simultaneously kick you in the shins. Dear summer people. Learn to dance. Post-haste. Thank you. Instead I spent a lot of time goofing off with Starr in our nook (Ask us nicely and we might perform interpretive dance to The Sparrows and The Nightingales at your next social function), and singing along to everything overly dramatically. Seriously, Peter Murphy's got nothing on me. I can do a mean Bela Lugosi's Dead. You could almost see David Bowie having vampire sex/murder in flash cuts behind me, just like the beginning of The Hunger. Such is the amazing power I wield. Eventually I just wandered off upstairs and danced myself moist and into a nice endorphin buzz. Because everything worth doing is worth doing until you're wet and in danger of passing out. Which makes a whopping two things worth doing apparently.
Brand Upon The Brain! is unbelievably awesome. If you appreciate the bizarre, you desperately need to see it. Probably sometime in the next week, because in my experience, most of the universe doesn't actually appreciate the bizarre, so it probably won't stick around for long. It doesn't quite have the beautiful simplicity of Sissy Boy Slap Party, but that's quite a peak to aspire to. It is at least as good as The Saddest Music In The World.
Now I'm home again, home again. Sent off my offer letter, so I've got a week left of freedom before I return to the bit mines. Feel myself sinking rapidly into an incredibly tiresome "I am going to die alone" headspace, which is always fun. Maybe I'll just throw all of my energy into work instead. Woo! That's possibly the funniest thing I've ever said. I don't see why I haven't been having more luck attempting to date. I'm hilarious.
