LAGER LAGER LAGER
hi.. and welcome to yet another brain splattering journey thru the downward spiral of alcoholic stupor and persistent shrieking tinitis that constitutes yet another one of SPOZ's fucked up weekends.. once again I welcome back all our regular viewers - all of you couch and mouse potato's rotting away in your home theatre cocoons living vicariously thru my exploits.. I welcome all you Adelaide bands looking for that brief flicker of infamy on this ere website and if yer really lucky I'll bestow the greatest honour upon your dog and pony show by spelling your band's name wrong, making jokes about your bass player (or drummer) and otherwise ridiculing you for all your fans to see (no, really.. that actually means I really love yer music.. or maybe yer just not paying me enough and it's my subtle form of blackmailed revenge.. HA!).. I also welcome all you fellow recreational brain casualties, knowing that your reading this ere post with itching anticipation of the newest photographic horror that does your features no amount of justice (especially after I've photoshop the fuck out've them).. or maybe you've brokered a deal with the webmaster and by a freak coincidence, NONE of your photo's ever appear on this site no matter HOW SILLY you were on the weekend.. (yeah, I dunno why I'm not showing those photo's either.. coz they're really funny dammit!) and special welcome to all the interstate, overseas and intergalactic vistors from all races, religions, creeds, sexual positions, dysfunctions, spectrums and oscillating quantum string frequencies.. once again I shall give you proof of why our species should be wiped off the face of the planet if only we weren't so damn entertaining to watch..
so pop 2 panadol, grind up some zoloft, xanax, prozac and wot'ever that scruffy haired psycho next door just handed to you in a small sealed plastic bag with all the funny motor vehicle ensignias and smiling buddhas on them.. wash it down with something that makes the spoon upright and sets off the smoke detectors.. and when the room stops spinning, insert a few more quarters..
yup.. here goes another one..
and now, time to hand the scalpel.. cut the brain open.. and do the weekend autopsy (hmmm.. do I smell sushimi again?)FRIDAY NIGHT
I could go into detail on how this night began.. but really it was all too silly.. suffice to say.. after months of avoiding the BOHO bar.. wot with all the dickhead hype in the advertiser screaming "ITS THE BEST PLACE EVER!" and all these c-grade celebrities hosting countless launches for half arsed fashion / theatre / feminine hygiene products or garden explosives wot'ever-the-fuck (really I dunno).. I finally found myself stepping foot in the place.. although only briefly.. whilst me and my friends went on a misguided adventure in search of someone.. conveniently failed to find them.. and in the space of 20 minutes abruptly exited with a relieved look on their face.. yeah.. I really wonder if there wuz a point to all this.. but anyhoo (does it still count as an "appearance" if they never actually see you there?).. the place wuz ok tho'.. decor somewhat in that theatrical vampire vibe, reminiscent of that fucked up "we love MOULIN ROUGE on a crack-addict-fetish" kinda way.. but yeah.. I dunno.. maybe get me fucked up on shrooms next time.. and I'll appreciate it more.. (I'm much more a fan of the simple brilliance that is the JADE MONKEY decor.. gimme a few spastic twinkly lights.. and I'm happy)
next up.. the actual destination for the night, THE AUSTRAL (aka: THE NOSTRIL, aka: "you've chaaanged maaan, you used to be a cool live band venue with a kickarse beergarden but now your a yuppie restuarant hell hole in polished wood where all the bands are stuffed in the broom closet off to the side.. rrrrrr fuck!").. yeah.. *sniff*.. all I have is memories of when the AUSTRAL was cool.. back in the golden age of the late 90's and early 2000's.. *sniff*.. *cough*.. *burp*.. "scuse me".. oh well.. at least the bands were cool here.. even if it wuz pitch black in and the PA wuz so dodgy I might as well've been at the bottom of a swimming pool to hear anything remotely resembling a decent sound.. or maybe I'm going deaf.. "hey.. the phones ringing!.. no wait.. it's just me..".. hmmm.. where wuz I?
anyhoo.. first band up for tonight wuz the THREE NINJA GNOME SPARKLE SMURFETTE QUARTET.. otherwise known more famously as "THE GNOMES".. or, that band who's name starts with "M" which I just can't place in my memory right about now.. "MUSKRAT"? "MEERCAT"? "MOUSEMAT"? "THE MOONBOOTS"? hmmm.. it's on the tip of me brain somewhere..? yeah.. anywaze.. it wuz their last gig for 2005.. so.. if you find me on the ground in a foetal position in the next few weeks, sweating, clutching me head and screaming incoherant rubbish like "I'VE GOT THE SECRET.. and the SECRET is MY PEE PEE" (hmm.. somehow that feels misquoted.. but I'd be hilarious to hear Kaliah sing it.. :P).. then you'll know I'm suffering horrific withdrawal.. either that or Dale slipped some of his weird chemicals in my beer again.. yeah.. I'll miss you crazy guys.. COME BACK SOON DAMMIT! coz dammit.. a weekend blog isn't complete without making fun of you guys again.. (especially when SWEEPER isn't playing a gig.. talk about a void to fill.. eeesh!)
up next.. NERVOUS GERBAL.. and somehow I felt like it wuz too much GERBAL for a tiny space like the NOSTRIL's broom closet to contain.. coz maaan.. you freaks totally fucked up the joint.. it wuz scary maaan.. it wuz making me hallucinate n shit.. yeah.. all the freaky fuzzy colours.. and the hammering gonzo sounds.. hmm.. wait.. shit.. did Dale slip something into my drink again? dammit! yeah.. I wuz so out've it near the end of their set.. I actually did vocals for their last song.. (at least till I got ceremoniously thrown off "stage".. coz despite all the brilliant hairy hooting and screaming.. I kinda didn't match the rest of the band in their fuzzy outfits.. and y'know.. colour coordination is key to them wacky psychedelic cartoon techno acts..).. but yeah.. you guys were insane.. come back aaanytime!
after the gig.. I noticed 90% of the crowd had already escaped to less claustrophobic settings.. so after sinking a few more beers and finding myself at the CRANKA staring at the walls way too soon into the night, I made an early exit home at 2AM.. watched FIGHTCLUB on DVD and dissolved in a dribbling alcoholic mess of a coma at the end of it all..SATURDAY NIGHT
I woke up in a wooden box in some dusty sun drenched cemetary in Mexico.. finding myself without passport, wallet or any identifying papers.. I sold my watch to a policeman.. gained passage on a smelly bus on route to the USA.. and spent the next few hours stuffed into the cargo hold of a plane to find my way home.. no.. wait.. that wuzn't me.. that wuz another DAVID FINCHER movie I watched a few nights earlier.. hmmm.. either that, or those NEUROCAM operatives found this site and wanted to silence me.. yeah.. although that account is fictional (or IS it?).. my brain definitely felt like the end result.. so it took a lot of rehabilitation, muscle development, the recognition of simple colours and shapes till I was on my feet again.. leaving the house at 9:30PM to make my way down to the CROWN N ANCHOR (aka: CLOWN N SPANKER, THE CRANK, THE ARSE CRACK.. or wot'ever you idiots call it now).. to catch a gig by a Queensland band by the name of TRANSPORT.. coz apparently some friend who's name I wont name (coz Chelsea hates when I mention her name in this blog) mentioned that I really should see these freaks coz they like.. I dunno.. play them funky primate music all the kids are crazy about right now.. either way, I wuz in no position to argue.. coz when yer this hung over and eeringly homicidal.. "HAIR OF THE DOG" is the only cure.. but since that band wuzn't playing tonight.. "TRANSPORT" had to do in their place.. and yeah.. those crazy cats really rocked.. and not because I actually accidently recognised one or two of their songs that've been thrashed on TRIPLE J of late.. but because.. dammit.. with all the beer I wuz taking to kill the pain of beers last night.. and with them funky funky erratic spastic grooves.. I damn well couldn't help meself.. I wuz a hairy loon out've control.. I was having a weekend disease.. and you guys were the cure.. nice one..
afterwards my memory gets a bit dim.. apparently I wuz found on the dancefloor flailing around like a total drunken trainwreck to wot'ever shit DJ (BIG MAN) IAN wuz playing (although hey, he did play INTERPOL and KAISER CHIEFS.. so no complaints here).. apparently I witnessed a lot of freaks scribbling mad shit all each others arms.. which leads me to believe.. either (a) beer causes the same short term memory loss as that guy from MEMENTO (and this is the only way to remember where you lost the house keys), (b) there were too many COLDPLAY fans being pseudo political, (c) it's all DALE's fault.. (note: Dale is an easy target for ridicule in this ere blog.. especially when there's no W Shane Forster to make fun of..).. oh.. and there wuz this one idiot on the dancefloor wearing a tiara.. seriously.. wot the FUCK wuz UP with that dude? sure.. it ain't as crazy as that one dickhead I saw dressed as a STORMTROOPER in the cranka a few years ago (and it wuzn't even halloween) but.. yeah.. weird.. seriously.. next time.. don't touch that new COOPERS LAGER.. it's got some seriously psychedelic side effects..
a few hours later I eventually found myself swimming home at 5AM, and not knowing how I got there.. niiice..
all in all.. not a bad weekend..
now where's me panadol?
Previously on Spoz's Rant: Tales From The Forest Of Gnomes