Demonika
Last Friday, getting out of my box, tickets to "Demonika"
Clips on YouTube if you're so inclined, links not provided here. An event at the Distillery, and I pick up a ticket for the Nephew just in case he wants to come with me...
I show him clips online. He's not interested, surprisingly conservative for someone who professes such liberal vices...
I make it.
Completely. Out. Of. My. Box.
Post-Apocalyptic is the theme, a series of skits or vignettes on topics in the line of slave girls getting revenge upon overlord, various other S & M related themes, 4 hours in told but far less counting breaks, contests for best costume, underwear, etc, a S & M "Swing Party", as it were, hosted at a bar downtown. Sold Out.
500 Audience Members. Skits, lamely done with great gusto and elaborate costumes. 500 members in the Audience, 400+ of which are dressed in "appropriate" costumes, S & M gear, Mad-Max styled post-apocalyptic costumes, etc, etc, OVER THE TOP.
The skits, lame, what your child might perform in an underfunded high-school without the censure of a drama prof, still, there's a vitality, a devoted clique of followers, it's completely over the top but - for the first time in a long time, I'm completely outside of my box. Not a bad thing.
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on Ashley Madison
The questions (and ideas) suggest themselves. And while the correlation has been well documented, it's still worth noting.
Link: Ottawa top of list for cheaters
Note Calgary's #3. Quotable: "We find our strong membership in the West in keeping with the trend of people with conservative values participating in what is considered 'deviant' societal behavior,"
Me, personally, I'm a Liberal. Not as in the party, but as in the outlook...
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black baby in a shopping bag...
I've a black baby in a shopping bag, the latest addition to the family.
Trying to board a train, I've a black baby in a canvas shopping bag, trying to catch a train, I meet K (boy's mother) on the way...
She's unexpectedly curious, looks into the bag, the writhing black baby, it's mine, I know, that's not the issue, there's somewhere I have to go, she somehow manages to catch the train, I'm expecting her to hold it for us but she doesn't and I'm running after it...
Don't know why but I thought she'd wait for us, the train is leaving and I'm running after it, she'll get it to stop...
...but the train is still leaving and I'm running after it, hoping to board it at the next station...
maybe London-not-London, not sure, only that I'm running after a train with a black baby, my baby, in a canvas recycling shopping bag...
**Note: Probably related to article read online about a woman stopped in the Caribbean with a baby in her purse - black? Caribbean? Not sure. Missed train a common theme. K, not a common person to be included in my dreams. Another dream that night, complete as well, but I've forgotten...
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The Long Good Friday
As close as we'll come to a day off.
Closed for lunch, open at 3:00 for dinner.
The customers, as to be expected, the lost and straggling souls who couldn't wrangle an invite anywhere for Easter.
I've worn my blue-fur bunny ears, slight levity, the book is grim. I propose a crucifixion, re-enactment of The Passion to make the Filipino kitchen feel more at home, but there's a lack of volunteers. The dishwasher, Billy, doesn't want to be crucified. He's a bad Catholic.
The last table in at 7:30, reservation, last table served at 8:00. The owner leaves at 8:00. And then it's time to wait.
Tables linger. A walk-in at 8:45, get the order, put it in, warn them we're closing...
9:00. The expeditor and hostess leave. 4 tables left in restaurant.
9:10. G leaves, all fucked up.
9:15. A leaves, patching things up with girlfriend.
9:30. Z leaves with the kitchen, Billy and Jimmy.
Leaving me and M. Another 45 minutes before we can leave as well. It's the long Good Friday. I hope, against odds, the Karma I've built up hasn't been squandered.
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