Once I had a friend, a good friend of several years. One day she confessed to me her deep longing for my dick, like she was born there and being away from it made her homesick. I was shocked and disappointed because the whole time we were friends, I kept thinking how nice it was to be friends with a real girl, with a real vagina that I had no interest in touching. But then I found out that the whole time she just wanted to touch my meaty man vagina. I don't talk to her anymore.
I imagine that [Katie the Pest], a rock duo from Downey, must feel the same way. I saw them play tonight at Cafe Bleu in Long Beach. The crowd was sparse, but not uncomfortably so, mostly populated by dickbag indie nerds with experimental facial hair. Nearly everybody there came explicitly to see Katie the Pest sip her lovesick concoction of melancholy frustration on stage. Even the opening bands The Suck Fuckers, and The Bologna Pig Cock Garble Wranglers sang her praises before their sets.
When The Suck Fuckers finished their set, they told everyone that they loved Katie the Pest, but then they corrected themselves and said that they were in love with Katie the Pest. I think it was meant to be a sheepish admission of a crush, designed by a frustrated fat kid to show that he might not be presentable enough to be seen with in public, but gosh golly, he's a charmer.
Not to be outdone, the frontman of the Cock Wranglers removed his flannel to reveal a white t-shirt with the words "KATIE GIVES THE STICKY CHILDREN MOIST VAGINAS" scrawled across it with black magic marker. Now, call me old fashioned, but trying to pass yourself off as a plump-but-lovable, wacky-but-desperate character from a Jack Black movie -especially with a homemade t-shirt with more than one vagina on it- is as pathetic as eight quadriplegics in a punctured life raft, and expecting someone to take it as a compliment is an insult.
Meanwhile, the girls of Katie the Pest had to go up on stage and play to crowd of leering assholes with Dorito stains on their crotches, most of whom would jump at the chance to dangle their wilted mules into any available Katie hole, conscious or otherwise. It's a shame, because Katie the Pest is a good band that makes good music, but anytime a guy tells them that, really the only thing it means is that the girls will have to keep an eye on their drinks for the rest of the night.
Anyway, here is my official review of the show:
The Fucks Blasters: Random people playing boring whatever-music
Autoduel and the Steve Jackson 5: Talentless homos that give baby-shaking and abortions a good name.
Katie the Pest: Good band. You should check them out at [www.katiethepest.com]
Overall, I would say that tonight's show was a strong supporting argument for more Great White shows.
I imagine that [Katie the Pest], a rock duo from Downey, must feel the same way. I saw them play tonight at Cafe Bleu in Long Beach. The crowd was sparse, but not uncomfortably so, mostly populated by dickbag indie nerds with experimental facial hair. Nearly everybody there came explicitly to see Katie the Pest sip her lovesick concoction of melancholy frustration on stage. Even the opening bands The Suck Fuckers, and The Bologna Pig Cock Garble Wranglers sang her praises before their sets.
When The Suck Fuckers finished their set, they told everyone that they loved Katie the Pest, but then they corrected themselves and said that they were in love with Katie the Pest. I think it was meant to be a sheepish admission of a crush, designed by a frustrated fat kid to show that he might not be presentable enough to be seen with in public, but gosh golly, he's a charmer.
Not to be outdone, the frontman of the Cock Wranglers removed his flannel to reveal a white t-shirt with the words "KATIE GIVES THE STICKY CHILDREN MOIST VAGINAS" scrawled across it with black magic marker. Now, call me old fashioned, but trying to pass yourself off as a plump-but-lovable, wacky-but-desperate character from a Jack Black movie -especially with a homemade t-shirt with more than one vagina on it- is as pathetic as eight quadriplegics in a punctured life raft, and expecting someone to take it as a compliment is an insult.
Meanwhile, the girls of Katie the Pest had to go up on stage and play to crowd of leering assholes with Dorito stains on their crotches, most of whom would jump at the chance to dangle their wilted mules into any available Katie hole, conscious or otherwise. It's a shame, because Katie the Pest is a good band that makes good music, but anytime a guy tells them that, really the only thing it means is that the girls will have to keep an eye on their drinks for the rest of the night.
Anyway, here is my official review of the show:
The Fucks Blasters: Random people playing boring whatever-music
Autoduel and the Steve Jackson 5: Talentless homos that give baby-shaking and abortions a good name.
Katie the Pest: Good band. You should check them out at [www.katiethepest.com]
Overall, I would say that tonight's show was a strong supporting argument for more Great White shows.
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