Nudity is Only Skin-Deep

I had a dance floor going for most of the night, despite the meager attendance.

A DJ is close to a madam in purpose. It is my duty as a DJ to make people want to fuck. And I think I succeeded with one couple.

( Here's what did the trick: )

I DJ again this coming Wednesday. Get your black-clad butt out there, ok?

I received a nice compliment last night as per my DJing: "Your music is the best." I don't necessarily agree, but it was an ego-boost to hear.

In case you're interested, ( here's the playlist: )

Hey, that's tonight! I'll be spinning goth industrial tunes from 9 pm on at Club Renaissance. Put on your Frankenboots and stomp your way over! In case you don't know, the Ren is at 24A Charles Street in Kitchener, right across from the bus terminal.

And next week... Next week, we have a special treat in store.




Annual pre-Halloween Bash at Renn!
We have Tarot readers!
Zombie Go-Go Dancers!
Stephen Thrasher! (his last show as a local!)
The'Elf spinning!
Gifties!
And best of all...the theme...
Drum Roll...
Zombie Prom!
Grab your significant other and come on out!

Pay what you can...

Guess who's DJing the goth night tomorrow? That would be me! Put on your stompy boots and come on down to Club Renaissance, and make sure you say hi!

I've been in a strange state of anti-social sociability lately, riding the thin line between let's hang out and go away! Why? I dunno.

Wednesday night I DJed at the Ren. I was a bit nervous, as I have only done short stints on club decks before. But I guess all those years of radio DJing left me in good stead, because the dance floor was busy from eleven until close. Although my industrial tunes were going over really well, I need more in the way of goth classics (eg. The Cramps, The Cure, Siouxsie, etc.). Gotta go through my collection and pick more of those out for next time. Thanks to all who got out there and danced and made requests. You made my night!

Yesterday, I was hit by yet another goddamned truck. A pickup truck was stopped at a stop sign, and I was behind him on my bike. I was not immediately behind him, but back a little ways and angled because I'd just come around a turn. Suddenly, and without warning, the truck revved into reverse, giving me just enough time to start dragging the bike by madly hopping on one foot. I knew I was pooched. The truck was moving too quickly for me to get out of the way, so I started screaming a litany of cusswords at very high volume.

Ultimately, I believe it was this blue air that saved me. The truck driver stopped just as the trailer hitch got tangled in my bike frame, and just short of snapping both of my legs.

That was too damned close.

The driver got out and walked back to see if I was ok, and told me I had been in my blind spot. That's all well and good, but why the fuck did he suddenly start backing up at a stop sign? Argh.

I used to think I'd die an unusual death (like death by rabid ostrich), but now I'm sure my death will be more ... pedestrian. An idiot driver will kill me, yet.

I got hit while on a mission to promote Johnny Hollow, so I hope all y'all come out and see them now, for sure. Don't let me have suffered that adrenaline roller coaster for nought. Get out to the Ren this Wednesday and check them out. And yes, they're that good. I'm contemplating using one of their songs for a dance performance.

Link time.

Rock drummers 'are top athletes': Anyone who watches a lot of rock bands won't be surprised by this.

Canada Day festival was nothing to celebrate: Oh, those wacky Maritimers (thanks, snowy_kathryn).

Seriously fucked-up operation: When Israel Sarrio's arm was amputated after an accident, it was kept alive in a novel fashion (thanks, gha5t).

The Original Pelican Eats a Penguin: I wish I'd had a video camera going the time my chicken ate a hummingbird.

Piglet with Monkey's Face: In Asia, birthplace of all the freakiest deformations.

Woman stabs herself during Wiccan ceremony: I think she fucked up her good luck ritual.

Rosy-Lipped Batfish: I'm not big on aquariums, but I'd make an exception just to have this fish.

Last night's DJing session went fine, although the crowd at the Renn isn't exactly a lively one. I mostly played hard, stompy industrial club tunes which appealed to the male dancers. The set after mine played gothier stuff, which brought out the female dancers. At one point, during my one "easy-listening" song (Delerium's "Flowers Become Screens"), a very drunk and flaming guy approached the DJ booth.

"Um, excuse me."

"Yes?"

"Can you play music that people who aren't here can dance to?"

This just about broke my brain. Drunk logic always astounds me. After a bit of quizzing, wildelf discovered that he in fact wanted to dance to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cindy Lauper.

And then a glam-looking blonde showed up. "Excuse me," she said. "Is there a theme to tonight's music?"

"Yes," said wildelf. "Old-school goth."

"Oh! Then can you play some Billie Holiday?"

Surprised, Th'elf said, "Oh, uh, I'm afraid I don't have any with me. Anything else?"

"Ok, then, how about Elvis?"

My eyebrows raised. "Elvis isn't at all old-school goth."

"Then how about some Roy Orgeh, Orbeh, uh, Roy Orby...."

"Roy Orbison?" I asked.

"Yeah! Him!"

Th'elf said, "That's definitely not old-school goth. We don't have any of that."

"Oh, then what's old-school golf?" (Yes, I'm sure she said 'golf.')

"Stuff like The Cure, Bauhaus, The Mission, Sisters of Mercy," said Th'elf.

"You mean like 80s stuff?"

"Sure."

"Well, I don't see how you can call that old-school golf. Fine, then. If it's 80s, I want to hear Madonna."

Sigh....

I'd forgotten this aspect of DJing.

snowy_kathryn and I just got back from the medical clinic, where we both received bad news regarding our feet. About three months ago, Kathryn cut her foot on a broken beer bottle. We removed glass from her foot, and when it didn't seem to be healing properly a month later, she went to a doctor who told her it was normal. It is nowhere near normal. There's a huge, red, hard painful lump on her foot, and she's always experiencing stabbing pains in it. He said that any glass in her foot would be "absorbed by her body."

What?

The doctor today didn't even look at it when he gave her his first professional opinion: "I don't know why you'd think there's glass in your foot."

Because she had a bunch of glass stab into her foot, dolt.

But when she insisted, he decided to send her for xrays, and of course there's a big piece of glass deep in her foot, amongst bones and scar tissue. And now she has to go in for complicated surgery to remove that glass.

And as for me, well, I'm just plain doomed, because I have a bone spur. Apparently, nothing that can be done for it aside from taking painkillers, icing it when needed, and avoiding anything that sets it off (which apparently includes both walking and sleeping, because it hurts like a bitch when I lie down. Sitting is ok, though).

I saw the spur on the xray. My heel, instead of being nice and round, has a nice, sharp, pointy bit stabbing out. It's the source of the mysterious, and not insignificant, foot pain which began Monday night.

The doctor told me that the spur was likely caused by repetitive movement, so I should quit dance. But how can my dance, which is much lower in impact than regular walking, be causing my bone spur?

I am not quitting dance. I'll quit my job (which is certainly harder on the feet: I'm constantly walking, twisting, and standing on concrete) before I'll quit dance. Now, more than ever before, I must find a different job--apparently one with less movement.

I need to do more research on this bone spur thing. Do you have bone spurs? How do you work with 'em?

And contrary to Kathryn's beliefs, pizza will not cure our feet.