Old Les-be-ons Represent!

To cap off my weekend the mister and I went to see Joan Jett and the Blackhearts and that wee lady tore it up! It was sweaty, rocking and lestastic sing-a-long! Okay, let me back it up.

After having a lovely Tilapia dinner at Pete's Tavern (and passing Roger Clark from NY1...holla...while walking out the door) my dude and I sashayed down over to Irving Plaza. Well he walked, I sauntered/sashayed, regardless, I was KILLING it in my fierce kitten heeled boots that I forgot I had until I was clearing out my closet for a stoop sale...but that is neither here nor there. Focus! So we get there just in time to see Eagles of Death Metal (sans Josh Homme) and I gots to hear my jam "Cherry Cola". Seriously kids, such a fun lil' ditty. As I'm shimmying and trying to stay awake (cause it's almost 11pm on the Lord's day) I see a swarm of lesbians coming at me like locuts and I really knew where I was at. They* love her and she loves them*.

Now I'm not here to write about lesbians and their shagtastic haircuts, or their love for very casual wear and Bud Light (even though I do love to generalize...we blicks are used to generalizations) but to say...goddamn, who knew so many of em lived on Strong Island! Honey, the lilth of that oh so delicate accent cut through all the sound and there was no need to do some kind of regional shout out. One region was heavily represented.

How was this represented the best? A very joyous and squat woman parked herself right next to the mister and SQUEALED for what seems like a dog's age for old girl to come out. She then sang along to EVERY SONG in the most tone def manner than anyone within a 5 foot radius turned around with such a look of pain I ALMOST felt embarrassed for lady hobbit. Now I say almost because she kinda ruined me enjoying the magic of what is "Bad Reputation" and I can't have forgiveness in my heart when you fuck up my rock. Now I'm not calling out the ladies that love ladies just this lady. Honey, I often have to represent for my people when I don't want to and you have to do the same. So on that note: Shut your trap or go to a vocal coach. One of the two. I know I can't sang so I'm not going to subject fools my pitchless warblings.

So moral of the story: Joan ruled. The ladies loved her. And I think a Siouxsie and the Banshees loving butchie touched my butt. Plus Roger Clark showed up and was right next to me at the show...cause that is how he rolls. All in all, it was a good Sunday.

*I like how I rock "they" and "them"...yeah, I like to get my oppression on too!