friday night i went with some people i met at heaven to the worst metal show ever. we were looking through the mercury trying to find something all ages to do since a couple of them were under 21. the listing didn't say anything about the type of music but it was all ages. once we got down there it became clear that this wasn't some indie rock show, in hindsight the name of the headlining band, hyperthermia, should have given it's shitty metalness away. of the 20 people in the venue--that i'm told used to be an old porno theater--we were the only people not dressed for a korn concert. i can now say with certainty that hair metal is not dead in portland, i kept waiting for hyperthermia's bass playing singer to get his hair caught in the strings causing sparks and a hair care product based fire. it never happened. something about hearing a local band shout "portland let me hear you make some noise" really got under my skin. they also encourage us to sing the chorus of their new song "date rape", apparently with some success, the singer reported having chills down his spine afterwards. we got the fuck out of there, regretting the $8 cover, and started wandering around downtown. other than shouting back and forth at the gangstas crusing around there wasn't much for an all ages crowd to do. the decision was made to fallback to the hotcake house.
the hotcake house in another portland institution that had been so built up for me that it would have been impossible for the reality to live up to the myth. the food was greasy but not in a wholesome--let's sober up--kind of way, it was more of a plastic--don't bother trying to finish that--kind of way, and it was expensive. i guess the main point in it's favor is that it's one of the few places open all night in a city that closes at 22:00. either way it was still fun hanging out.
last night i met up with a guy from school and some friends of his--again an all ages crowd--and we went out dancing at a club called fx. trying to dance sober was a new one on me, i really wanted to go next door, get smashed and come back. it would have sort of violated my whole sobriety binge though. one highlight was out front talking to this marine wearing his class a's. i made the mistake of saying army instead of marine core and he jokingly called me a "cracked out wolverine looking dude".
tonight: zoobombing
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