geting out more--sort of

(note there's some especially strong language in here for me, and I'll be talking a lot more shit than I usually do, blame it on the fact that I'm really sick and not feeling too patient with life at the moment)

I'm getting close to that age where I'm fixin' to turn into a complete curmudgeon. You get to a point in your life where you no longer want to go out anymore, and I'm rapidly closing in on it. I'm almost to the point where I figure, "Why bother"? Every time I get a notion to go somewhere for recreational purposes, I get stuck surrounded by the dregs of society-all of the unwashed, chainsmokin', cellphone yappin' meth-ed out, inconsiderate hordes. Shit, what do I need that for? I get enough of that as it is...

But then again I wouldn't miss riotfolk for anything in the world either. So I shuffle out in the cold dragging brian along, after all it's close to home. The venue was In Other Words, a feminist bookstore up the street, right by PCC. I figured I could handle a show at a small venue. I can't do bars at all anymore, it's just too much. But that would assume I have some bus skills. Man I sure don't. Everyone one of the 3 buses that come up williams went flying past me just as i was halfway to the stop. jeeeezus! what kind of cruel joke is this?

Eventually we made it. I could have been later and I still would have been fine. The show was good as they always are. I think my favorite song mighta been "tree of life" that just really resonated with me... And seriously it WAS a good show, and reminds me of how I used to have a lot more of this sort of thing in my life...except for the audience, which I will make a point of dissing. Most people of course know how to act in public, but there's always a few individuals who know how to ruin any public engagement. Here's our lovely contestants for the prize of Portland's biggest idiot.

First you have cellphone guy. You know the one. You are at a show trying to listen to an acoustic performance and some jackass just HAS to be sitting next to you talking on their cell phone-the WHOLE FUCKING TIME. Jesus, why leave the house if all you are gonna do when you are out is talk on your damn phone, which you could just as easily do in the privacy of your OWN hovel? I'll admit that already I tend to be negatively biased when it comes to most public cellphone users anyway--like anyone really wants to hear you describe your pathetic life in public. I guarantee you I'd rather NOT know all the details of your wild fling or your dog's erection, or what you're going to do now that you're out of jail, or the finer points of the last shareholder's meeting. WHO GIVES A SHIT? I know it may surprise you but I really could CARE LESS. Unfortunately since you are practically shouting, your business has just become my business...If I was smart I'd start recording people, I'm sure there's a good use for this sort of information even if it's just to make performance art making a statement about the glut of COMPLETE IDIOTS in our society. On a similar note, if you are one of those people who just goes to shows just for the social scene, do us all a favor and take your social gossip hour outside so the rest of us can LISTEN TO THE FUCKING MUSIC IN PEACE without hearing YOU.

Next up on our reality show: the unwashed. Now don't get me wrong, I don't subscribe to the typical western notions of "personal hygiene" that is typically proselytized by the manufacturers of perfumy-tested on animals-chemical-laden personal hygiene products where we are all expected to conform to someting akin to hospital sterility. BUT, if you smell just like a compost bin in July in Memphis, that's just not gonna cut it for a trips over the property line. If you leave the room and your smell stays behind, that's just not copacetic. I realize that homeless people usually have this issue and it's fine, they're homeless, no one expects them to smell like fucking roses when they don't have any likely means to do so. We all are familiar with that smell that crusty punks get, and that's fine if you believe that it's appropriate to smell more human than chemical, but past a certain point it's just nauseating to endure, and if you have running water in your dwelling unit you really don't have any fucking excuse. Please make a note of it, hose off at least once a week, that's all I'm really asking. You'd think as much as it rains here it would have happened for you already...

And our final contestant: Skidmark Sam, the Shit My Pants Guy: If you have chronic severe bowel trauma maybe you should reconsider plans that involve leaving the comfort of your own home. Really it's better that way I would think both for your comfort AND mine. If this isn't a permanent disability, then I'm going to assume you are just lazy. If the wafting smell next to me reeks suspiciously of diarrhea, I'm gonna assume you need to find a toilet and fast, so FOR THE LOVE OF GOD get up and go to the restroom. Stop torturing yourself (and me). Indoor plumbing makes it possible to do this sort of thing conveniently, or so I've heard.
And maybe you should reconsider eating whatever god-awful thing it was that got you into this fix. Based on the power of the smell I'd assume it was a bean/cabbage/hog intestine medley.

Well thanks to all of our lovely contestants, I will strongly reconsider the merits of leaving the house for non-work/non-school reasons. After all, why bother when going out in public means having to be around the public?