Thursday afternoon I got to see The Big Lebowski on the big screen at the theatre up the street. Holy Crap. It’s not that I haven’t seen the movie a million times over. I just forgot how awesome it was. Seeing it like that was almost like seeing it again for the first time, except that I had the knowledge of what was about to happen. John Goodman has some takes in that movie that are unbelievalble. And Jeff Bridges. Holy Fuck. Not since Nicolas Cage in Raising Arizona has a protagonist been so brilliantly realized. Now if only the brothers Coen could stop making shite for a minute and start making good movies again.
Last night was the highly anticipated, 3 years coming experience of seeing Shout Out Out Out Out.

They were opening for a band called Holy F*ck. But that didn’t matter. I was there for one reason. And they lived up to it. It was a fucking Dance Party. One of the best shows I have ever seen. The lead singer looks like a cross between David Cross and the guy in Dazed and Confused that saya, “Oh an observation huh? Well who the hell are you man? Isaac fucking Newton? Well guess what genius I’m the one smoking marijuana motherfucker. You got a problem with that? … Well why don’t you observe while I punch your fucking teeth down your throat?”
Highlights from the show :
For the first time in the history of me going to shows, I clapped along and even chanted. And I didn’t do that shit at Springsteen.
Watching the chubby, big-boobied girl get groped on by a complete stranger. A phenomenon I thought only existed in meatmarket bars in the “meathead/soroitygirl” part of towns. I’m convinced she kept passing out during it all and would come to to this guy groping all over her, then get back into it until passing out again.
After the show I headed to a party where indeed there was a Rottweiller of the sweetest disposition named Donna Joe. For those of you in the know, imagine Dotty. Now imagine the exact opposite. I’ve never seen anything this docile. AND it was a rottweiler. She was so chill. And I mean that word in the most un-Dave Matthews Cover Band kind of way.
Tonight I was hanging out with some folks drinking beer and playing this rad board game Settlers. Yeh I know, how very nerdy of me. I’m almost turning into…
I don’t know if it was the strange mugginess of the day, the Doritos I ate, or maybe some bad gas station cappucino but out of nowhere I turned flush white. My hands were shaking. I could barely roll the j I was commissioned to roll. Nevermind sticking around for it. It was all way to reminiscent of Winnipeg last fall where I became more ill than I have evr been before. So, fearing the worse – that any at moment I would hurl – I decided to head out and come home.
I finished up the Man of La Mancha DVD. C’mon Terry Gilliam WILL YOU PLEASE CUT THAT FUCKING RAT TAIL OFF ALREADY. and breezed through some Arrested Development. I don’t know why, but it seemed to work. I seem to be in somewhat tip top shape again. Ready for tomorrow’s surprises. Including a probable screening of Raiders Of The Lost Ark at the cinema.