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Posts Tagged ‘Southpaw’

This Sunday, a handful of Skeptics traipsed merrily through 5th Avenue Street Fair in Park Slope, Brooklyn. And as it turns out, we were not the only ones there. Looking down the Avenue from the top of the Slope, you could see it was packed for about a mile. The whole thing made me feel a little gay for Brooklyn. Here are some of my favorite parts of the fair:

1. Open Container Laws Be Damned

The fair gave a new meaning to al fresco drinking – of which we all know I’m the biggest fan. Nearly every bar was selling some beers, of both the generic and fantastic variety, on tap out of coolers in the middle of the street. You could get a plastic cup of beer or a frozen margarita from Mezcal and stumble around drunkenly, fondling pashminas and mozzarepas, for the rest of the day.

2. Kids Are So Predictable

At exactly 4:00, all of the children at the fair (roughly 2 million from the preliminary count) began to cry as their sugar highs wore off and they started to feel the effects of missing nap time. One child noted, “oh look – balloons,” in an uncharacteristically sarcastic manner.

3. Dancing Ladies

There were quite a few bands playing along the way, but there was one that stood out above all others: The Burlesque Alliance. This is an 11-or-so-piece band that was playing some kind of music with which I am not familiar enough to know the genre’s name. They had like horns or whatever. But more importantly, they had a lady who wore a tiny USO-style getup, dancing on the side of the stage. She was just awesome.

I was first introduced to the concept of go-go dancers at street fairs last summer at the Atlantic Avenue Street Fair. I didn’t like them as much. It seemed more exploitative in some way. Pizappas found this band a tad exploitative too. And I can understand that. I guess. But I’ll still going to their show at Southpaw on May 26.

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Not too long ago I spotted my (one of many) arch nemesis, Constantine Maroulis, in Manhattan. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this man, he was a contestant on American Idol IV. Aka the Bo Bice era. (Love the Bice.) Nway, at the time of airing there probably wasn’t, in my opinion, anyone more self involved or annoying(/gross) than Maroulils. If you watched this particular season of American Idol, you know why. If you didn’t watch this season, well, your loss. As you won’t be able to appreciate this entry for the sparkling blog diamond it is. (A part of me worries that if Maroulis ever reads this his feelings will be hurt. So, if you’re reading this, ‘stantine, this isn’t a direct personal attack on you as a person, per se. It’s an attack on your facial expressions and conceit.)


(Maroulis)

Moving forward, this spotting of Maroulis (on 5th Ave. b/w 14th and 15th) is significant for it was my second time bumping into the former Idoler. It’s as though God wanted me to say something to him this time around. Let him know my true feelings. But as I stared straight into my dear hated’s aviator’s sunglasses, making sure it was Maroulis I was seeing, and not some look alike, I found myself tongue tied. (I’m such a failure.)

After we passed one another, I awoke from the Maroulis trance, and rotated my head 180 degrees to, once again, make sure my eyes did not deceive me. However, as my head spun around, so did Maroulis‘. 3-2-1 eye contact was made. Normally this would not be a big deal, but I am convinced Maroulis believed that I was turning around for him. Now some may say that was exactly what I was doing, and those people may be correct in their assumptions. But that’s not the point. The point is, Maroulis thinks I am a fan. Which, in reality, could not be further from the truth. And I would like Maroulis to be aware. Aware of the fact that whenever his face graced my 19 inch TV, I wanted to throw tomatoes at the screen.

But the reason I feel so compelled to (online) journal this encounter, readers, is because earlier in the day a friend of mine informed me that Maroulis is joining the cast of the “Bold and the Beautiful.” Total. Anarchy. I don’t know about you, but I will definitely not (not) be dvring his soap opera debut.

*Note: Author was under the influence of four Benadryl tablets while writing this entry. Therefore, she can not be held accountable for any….of it.

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I will admit my interest in politics, especially here on the blog, is not based on the need to know what’s going on in my government. Basically it’s just reveling in the soap-opera of it all.

And luckily Alberto Gonzales keeps on giving. The best part of his hearing on Thursday was his terse exchange with Senator Specter. These two guys are roughly on the same team, and so Gonazales thought this would be a great time to just let his annoying-ness shine. Read more for my in depth analysis of Gonzales in his finest hour:

(more…)

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I usually don’t write reviews for events I actually enjoyed, but two nights ago (3/28) I had the liberty of seeing Do Make Say Think live, and I feel compelled to express my opinions about the show since I was so taken by this performance. To say I received my $15’s (ticket price) worth would be an understatement. Had I paid $50, this still would have been a worthwhile investment, and then some. I’d say $100, but I refuse to pay more than $50 for any artist. It’s a moral issue.

Anyway, Do Make Say Think performed at Brooklyn’s very own Southpaw. Wonderful venue. I would see every band here, if I could. Every single band in the universe. Right. Moving along, Do Make Say Think did not let down. I was expecting great things, and all expectations were met, despite their having a replacement drummer for the evening.

The show was absurdly good, for the most part. Unfortunately, at certain points in the evening I was reminded why it is I hate most people. This is completely unrelated to the band, but I will go on to complain nevertheless. To the tall, drunk, bearded man who forced his way towards the front of the stage during the performance, obstructing the view of all those behind him just so he could hit on some girl: you are my worst male enemy. And to the girl who decided to stand directly in front of me, close enough for me to count the freckles on the back of her neck: You are my worst female enemy. No, it’s great when people do that. I actually like to reserve the two inch space between me and whoever I am standing behind, just so another person can squeeze in between us. So it’s good this person could read my mind. Otherwise I might’ve been able to actually see the stage.

Luckily, both these sworn enemies of mine eventually came to their senses and bounced from their incredibly inconsiderate positions, allowing me to fully take in Do Make Say Think’s performance. Which, like I already said, was unbelievable. If you ask me, Do Make Say Think puts on one of the best live shows of any band, period. The show is comprised of impeccably synchronized (yet also spontaneous–thought provoking) instrumentals, awe inspiring drumbeats, and cascading lights. It’s difficult to fully describe the impact their live concert has on an audience member; it makes for what I consider to be, a religious musical experience. Yeah, I know. I too have found annoyance with every person in history who has described a show/concert as a “religious musical experience,” but I’m too tired (lazy) to think of another way to put it. It’s okay if you judge me. I’d judge me too. Anyway, I think every fan of Do Make Say Think should catch them live at least once. K? K.

Also very enjoyable was Do Make Say Think’s opening act, The Berg Sans Nipple. I’d say they fall under the same genre as Explosions in the Sky, etc. A talented duo, these two. It should also be addressed that TBSN’s Shane Aspegren, covered for DMST’s ailing drummer for Do Make’s entire show. Which takes mad skills and some serious cojones. Props to Berg Sans Nip’s drummer for pulling that off.

So, I hope anyone who reads this takes my advice. But it’s okay if you don’t. But I hope you do.

PS I attended this show by myself. I have never done that before. Therefore, this night was signifcant for a number of reasons.

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