hella
Sex God
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- Jun 29, 2004
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Well, I'm fucking sick. But at least I saw the Thermals on Friday night. My friend, his band, and I piled into my little 1989 Bonneville and headed an hour down the freeway to some pizza parlor to see the most undercredited indie-lo-fi-punk ensembles around: the Thermals. And it doesn't hurt that they hail from Portland, Oregon, our indie rock mecca.
For most of the show, Chris and I screamed "Everything Thermals," a b-side from the "No Culture Icons" single. They finished and didn't play it. Being as emo as we are, we went outside and cried. Then we heard yelling; they were back on. They played one song from Fuckin' A, the new album, then... yes. "Everything Thermals."
chris and I sang along with most of the songs from the first album, More Parts Per Million, but were clueless about the newer songs, since we aren't really into it.
Towards the end of thier initial set, some drunk guys started moshing (God knows why) and ended up spilling a beer on some poor girl in the front. And she was enjoying herself. I felt really bad for her, but that passed with a cigarette. Then In N Out.
Oh yeah, the opening band, Panther Martin, covered Sonic Youth's "Teenage Riot," but the singer sang it very monotonously, so I couldn't sing along. Disappointment sets in.
We got back to Chris's now empty apartment at about 2AM. I was too tired to drive another 30 minutes, so I stayed there. Chris and I have known each other for... 5 years now, and have slept in the same bed everytime we stay at one another's house. Yet, we never fool around. Chris is secure enough in his heterosexuality to share a bed with his bisexual best friend, pee with the door open, and walk around with a half-morning boner. The same goes for me, except that I'd like to "try" things, but I guess it's better to just NOT compromise the friendship. We've exposed ourselves to each other, and I felt weird the next day; he said it was fine and wasn't bothered.
Now, if only I could get him into a more altered state and take advantage of his loss of inhibition. Good Lord, I sounded like a fucking cockhound. Oh well. I don't think it counts if I'm just after one cock in particular.
After sharing everything with him, I'm sick. A fucking cold. Or maybe gays on film make me sneeze - I watched the Broken Hearts Club on IFC at Sarah's house and sneezed about 5 times in a row. It's either a cold, or the homos.
I don't like sneezing because it tastes like you're crying.
I've four DVDs to watch in the next 5 days:
Breathless (1960); rented.
the Witch Who Came from the Sea; rented.
Hero (2004); rented.
American Beauty; borrowed/stolen from Chris.
I saw American Beauty once 3 or 4 years ago at Chris's and haven't seen it since.
And I'm still waiting to see Jules et Jim.
For most of the show, Chris and I screamed "Everything Thermals," a b-side from the "No Culture Icons" single. They finished and didn't play it. Being as emo as we are, we went outside and cried. Then we heard yelling; they were back on. They played one song from Fuckin' A, the new album, then... yes. "Everything Thermals."
chris and I sang along with most of the songs from the first album, More Parts Per Million, but were clueless about the newer songs, since we aren't really into it.
Towards the end of thier initial set, some drunk guys started moshing (God knows why) and ended up spilling a beer on some poor girl in the front. And she was enjoying herself. I felt really bad for her, but that passed with a cigarette. Then In N Out.
Oh yeah, the opening band, Panther Martin, covered Sonic Youth's "Teenage Riot," but the singer sang it very monotonously, so I couldn't sing along. Disappointment sets in.
We got back to Chris's now empty apartment at about 2AM. I was too tired to drive another 30 minutes, so I stayed there. Chris and I have known each other for... 5 years now, and have slept in the same bed everytime we stay at one another's house. Yet, we never fool around. Chris is secure enough in his heterosexuality to share a bed with his bisexual best friend, pee with the door open, and walk around with a half-morning boner. The same goes for me, except that I'd like to "try" things, but I guess it's better to just NOT compromise the friendship. We've exposed ourselves to each other, and I felt weird the next day; he said it was fine and wasn't bothered.
Now, if only I could get him into a more altered state and take advantage of his loss of inhibition. Good Lord, I sounded like a fucking cockhound. Oh well. I don't think it counts if I'm just after one cock in particular.
After sharing everything with him, I'm sick. A fucking cold. Or maybe gays on film make me sneeze - I watched the Broken Hearts Club on IFC at Sarah's house and sneezed about 5 times in a row. It's either a cold, or the homos.
I don't like sneezing because it tastes like you're crying.
I've four DVDs to watch in the next 5 days:
Breathless (1960); rented.
the Witch Who Came from the Sea; rented.
Hero (2004); rented.
American Beauty; borrowed/stolen from Chris.
I saw American Beauty once 3 or 4 years ago at Chris's and haven't seen it since.
And I'm still waiting to see Jules et Jim.