Thursday, May 21, 2009

Keep My Girls Kinky and a Hole in the Sheet



Good God, life can really catch up with you. What started innocently enough on Friday with a Peaches concert at the Metro, progressed to perusing the wares at IML's Leather Mart on Sunday, and ended with me getting all kumbaya with a bunch of lesbians on Monday at a barbecue. I know I should be most ashamed of looking at porn and ass-less chaps with a bunch of strangers on Sunday, but my real shame lies in singing along to an acoustic version of Wonderwall on Memorial Day.

And even though I'm most certainly feeling the effects of having drunk and eaten myself into oblivion over the weekend, as the receptionist at work said, "Those really are the fun ones." I've now seen Peaches four or five times, which makes me either a stalker or a groupie - is there a difference - and she did not disappoint by any means. The lyrics, the costumes, the dance moves... everything was more refined and really showed the mark of an artist who, frankly, realizes she can't ride the shocking-sex-fiend card all the way into her golden years. Not that she still isn't being bawdy for the bawdy's sake, but now there's more than one song off the album that can be played on the radio without being edited. Not to mention that she's just produced my new favorite Halloween jam with Trick or Treat! So tasty.

Then there's IML. Oh God, IML. Well, suffice it to say that I was not really shocked by anything until I reached the booth where sounding was being performed on some dude who, I guess, was enjoying it. Oh wait, scratch that... I wasn't really shocked by anything until I passed by the booth that sold bestiality DVDs made in BERWYN! They were far and away the outcasts of the festivities since they'd been secluded to a corner near an exit and had virtually no one coming to look at their goods. Oh, and did I mention they sold knives and switchblades? No. Fucking. Joke.

But as my IML "ambassador" told us, "Leather's a dying art," which made me sad, but also made me feel I was paying my respects by taking part in a time-honored tradition of gay culture... even though I was wearing jeans and a v-neck... and left my leather cod-piece at home.

Although you might say the crowning event of the weekend came on Monday when I attended my former roommate's barbeque. Lesbians were in abundance, which I knew getting into it, but what I did not know was that there would be a lesbian in attendance who knew how to play the guitar and had a penchant for "jam" sessions on the back deck. Will someone tell me why I thought it was a good idea to smoke clove cigarettes and sing-along to acoustic approximations of Oasis songs? Oh right. There is no good answer.

So next time you find yourself on a back deck with a bunch of sing-song lesbians with questionable musical tastes, just ask yourself, "Would Peaches do this?"

And then refrain from joining in.

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