Myspace, Myspace, Myspace. Everybody's on Myspace.  Besides straight-up porn, I can't think of any other Web site to which you can lose whole hours of your life. There are cool peeps on the site to meet and all. Heck, half the South Sound is on there. Mostly, I like jumping from page to page checking out how crazy people are to put up the photos they do. I have some Internet friends I talk to almost daily. We'll never meet. I want it that way. They share their insane-o stories with me, and I do the same. It's like going to confession, so I'm told, and everybody wins. Plus there are some mid-20s guys who are in bands in So-Cal and back East who have hilarious blogs. Got some time to kill? Check it out. www.myspace.com.

Tuesday, June 14

Bonilla and I grabbed some barbecue at Famous Dave's in the old Zoopa building. The lounge's 11 flat screen televisions in a space the size of my bedroom might be why the rest of the world hates America (I bet they have at least $3,000 in boob tubes). We sure love our stuff. Good barbecued chicken. Tough ribs though. The brisket had so much liquid smoke on it, it was gross. Raspberry Vodka Iced T made it all better, not to mention my great company.

Wednesday, June 15

Went down to meet Missy at Hell's. Walked in and there were a bunch of people wearing old school skateboard helmets. Missy was like: "What are all these people doing wearing helmets inside," and I was like: "I dunno, but they're cool." Then The Buckwildz got on stage and started rockin'.  Guess what?  Corvin was sporting a helmet. Then it was all clear.  It was a band thing. Nice. Most of the Model Squad was there: lovely Tanya, Rowdy Rose and the ever-stunning Ebony. Laughter abounded. Drinks were spilled. Just the way I like it. Puget Sound Pizza's sexy owner Jim stood in the midst of all of us females and looked quite content.

Thursday, June 16

Rosati and Winfrey filmed a scene for their upcoming indie flick at Jazzbones. James Whiton & The Downtown Apostles blew Garaj Mahal out o' the water with their ferociousness. Sweet James worked his stand-up bass like a man exorcizing demons. I dipped out between sets to catch New West Motels at The Swiss. Good stuff there, Rob Sharp, good stuff. Pappi Swarner and Matt D joined me back at the Jazzy Bone (as Pretty Boy Sean likes to call it). Calvin Klein Chris kept buying tequila shots that went down like water. How'd he know my weakness?

Saturday, June 18

While discussing our love/lust interests, Model Squad member GG confessed to wearing a gold bra. Ah summertime. I love the way our undergarments become acceptable accessories to our outer garments.

Go Music, Pappi Swarner and I met up at Panamonica's for a Drunken Adult Field Trip to Studio Seven to support Severus in the Battle of the Bands. Party busses were loaded up by 6:30 p.m. with tipsy fans headed north. A 40-minute cheer fest of slamming PBRs, devil horn flying and yelling for the camera ensued. Who knew a delicious elixir of life like that traveled so well? Heh. DJ Debbie pumped out Ministry and Tool. Post Studio Seven check-in, Pappi, Go and I hailed a cab and met up with the other part of the Model Squad at Pan-Asian restaurant Dragonfish. One of the lovelies sported some handsome male arm adornment. After sushi and empty wallets, we split ways. Them: Showbox for Spoon. Us: Studio Steven for lukewarm PBRs and a killer show by Severus.  I am continually impressed by Severus' ability to rally so many fans for out of town shows. Fun, happy laughing ride there = Good. Swaying, lurching bus ride home + drunken bellies = Bad.  Thanks Justin and Robby for a fun ride!

Must see

Check out Post Stardom Depression's rare acoustic performance at the Catbox Lounge (5431 S. Tacoma Way) Friday at 8:30 p.m. Black Top Demon and Johnny Bobalouie and The Masters of Bation follow.  Ask Blue-Haired Dave about his opossums and the picture.