sad cloud & cheese slices
I am cleaning my house from top to bottom today in preparation for tomorrow's Canada Day festivities. I would have been farther along, but I spent yesterday as a big hungover lump of foolishness, complete with ravening thirst, lack of focus and unexplained bruise. I did, however, manage to drag my ass to the Friendly Rich concert in time to meet Needle Addict & our old friend Guy, Chief of the Tea People. It was completely different from last time, and still completely fascinating. Here's a description I wrote earlier for Mason, who (like most) has never seen a performance of the Lollipop People:
It is unforgettable, like nothing I've ever seen or will ever see again. We were screaming like a Pee Wee's Playhouse audience as we watched puppets get tortured, or we were accepting vile cheese slices as the Host, or we were being menaced by blow up dolls or (later) a madman with a megaphone & a George Bush mask, or we were watching a live fruit fly dissection by Dr. Guy, or marvelling at the banjo player escaping from a straight jacket, or salivating at a man dressed as a grilled cheese doing a grilled cheese demo live or or or. It's queasy, glorious, crude & decadent; the band can play your soul away from your body and Soot the resident clown is a master of mute surliness (although I'm developing an unholy crush on him). It's like those monster truck shows because he sells you the whole seat, but you only need the edge.
However, it is strong medicine and may very well have not entertained, especially because there was a goldfish named Tony Fernandez swimming in a blender for the whole show. And a lot of spitting. Hot Fuzz, despite the church spire scene and the packed mausoleums, isn't as scary.
This is what I looked like when I came home:
Because the door man was able to look deep into my soul and see the sad cloud within. Awe-some.
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