Bacon Bits

I'm about one month away from going into production on my Market Report TV gig. Everything's looking good... except me. Not that I'm looking that bad; I've got a nice base tan, my beard is finally in shape (though I'll probably shave it off for the show) and my pal Lara at Baba Louise in Ballarad knows exactly how to do my hair. But I really need to shed a few pounds (okay, more than a few) to make up for the pounds the camera will undoubtedly add... and the extra pounds I'm showing without the aid of cameras.

Tomorrow I'm heading down to L.A. for a few days and out to Palm Springs for the Coachella fest and pool time with loads of pals. It will undoubtedly be a debaucherous week, even if I'm only sipping my favorite desert drink, the "Please Mister, Please" (vodka with half tonic half soda one lime and two slices of cucumber) that Shelley and I invented one spring after seeing Olivia Newton-John play the parking lot of an Indian casino in Desert Hot Springs. You can sip a LOT of those drinks when it's open bar at the after-party and you're off your face to start with. They go as well with sunrise as sunset.

So after I get back, it's time to get serious. Which means in addition to eating lots of celery sticks (and little else) I'll probably have to go on the wagon. So if you see me out and about with a beer in my hand, feel free to give me shit. Or, better yet, give me an ice-cold decaffeinated diet beverage. Or even your basic h2o. The one nice thing about the lame kidney stone I suffered through recently was learning to love water all over again. That and having a relatively pleasant experience at the Ballard Swedish Hospital emergency room at 4 am.

Also, I'll be spending even more time at 24 Hour Fatness. Which hasn't been that bad lately. Especially with classes like this..

Had a great time seeing VHS or Beta last night at a free Neumo's show with Electric Six and Mixmaster Mike. Abe got me into this band, due in no small part to their Duran Duran connection. I like their record but they sound even better live, very disco fun without the cheese factor. Even the hooded b-boys out for Mike were getting down, exposing a welcome amount of boxer-clad waistlines.

VHS or Beta get compared to everyone from Depeche Mode to The Cure to Daft Punk to Duran Duran, the latter of which they opened for recently. My analogy would be Rinocerose with Robert Smith as the lead singer... modern, funky French beats with lots of arena rock guitar, sometimes with very 80s sounding 'howl' vocals, sometimes no lyrics/singing at all. You'd never guess they were from Louisville... except maybe for the bass player, who didn't quite pull off the irony with his mullet and 70s cop mustache. In any case, a good time even with the hour-long wait for them to take the stage.

Later on the drive off of Capitol Hill, I was intrigued by a seemingly innocuous sight: a big yellow school bus. Kind of uncommon to see one rolling down Pine at the midnight hour. “Maybe it’s a field trip,” I thought as I pulled up alongside. At first I couldn’t see anyone aboard the brightly lit bus, then noticed two older gentlemen sitting in the second and third rows. And all was explained when I spotted a sign in the front window: NW Bears Spring Thaw Shuttle Bus. How sexy is that, being driven between homo hotspots on a big ol’ bright yellow school bus? Guess you’d have to try it yourself to know for sure. I’d at least ask them to turn the interior lights down…

You know when you’re at a free five-course dinner in a circus tent with a bunch of wacky singing waiters and trapeze artists and Martha Davis of the Motels running her hands over your face and they’ve comped your bar tab too and you love that one crazy couple at your table but loathe the other two so you and your date and the cool couple just keep drinking and drinking and drinking, just for fun and because you can and kind of in spite of the lame couple (one of whom actually made ‘crucifix fingers’ at you when you said you were from L.A.) and you thought this whole thing might be torture but well over three hours later you’re the last people to leave and there’s a staff party going on in the lobby so you stay and start drinking champagne and checking out the busboys until you spill a second glass of bubbly all over your jeans and when you come back from cleaning yourself up in the bathroom and walk over to your table some random dude steps in and says “Excuse me” and takes away what you thought was your glass of champagne but leaves two behind so you might’ve been drinking his or he might’ve been cutting you off in the most discreet way possible and you’re too drunk to know for sure and definitely too drunk to care either way?

That totally happened to me last night.

I woke up naked, on top of the bed, all the lights on, tangled up in my bulky ProDJ headphones and iPod which had apparently been blasting "Since U Been Gone" by Kelly Clarkson over and over and over again, all night long. Which I'm guessing might be a situation that even more people could find themselves in.

Right????

I'm stealing this item from a post Marc Spice made on Friendster, but I'm sure he'll support my rebroadcast as it it's totally worth repeating.

"Grace goes OFF!"