So, the show at The Tonic went as well as could be expected. It was good to see "Twilight" Dave in some kinda action again. Free booze never hurts, either, thx to he and Kip or Kiff or whatever.
The Decibators from chicagoland tore open the evening and punched it in the balls while dumping an ashtray down its throat. Quite enjoyable and kickass energy. The crowd was pretty decent through them and the next band, The Hot Rollers, outta Sea-town. Nice chix in schoolgirl outfits taking care of your needs in a nice way. By the time the next seattle band - The Gloryholes - took the stage the crowd had thinned considerably, despite each band's claim that they must stay for The Misfats. Again, with the Gloryholes, great energy, noise, and enthusiasm and that singer sure can take a hip check whilst screaming, "WHOSTOLEMYBISCUITS?" in yer face.
As we were getting ready I asked Baloney for the makeup bag and what we now refer to as the WigTub(tm). He somehow wasn't aware that these had been loaded into the basement of his new place that's soon to be our new practice home. The wife and I moved and we lost the grandioseness of the Sell-wacky neighborhood along with the basement. C.H.O.A.D. was kind enough to swing by and grab the remaining band accoutrements so that (I had hoped, anyway) they wouldn't get lost in the move. At least they didn't get lost in my house. Before the panic and accusations can kick in on 3 fat guys and a skinny bastard half-naked in the flat light outside a NE PDX bar, I noted that we were pretty much just playing to the bands by the time we were going on (around 12:45am but pushing 1am) and that it shouldn't matter. We laughingly again realized that, indeed, the less we try typically the more we succeed.
Donning that attitude and not much else, we crash into our set and never look back. Positing ourselves as the "new KISS w/o the makeup" gag, we decide this is the best course of action. Since all the bands were out-of-towners they don't quite know what to expect lyrically so it's nice to see that look of recognition (at each misfits' song) combined with the morbid laughing curiousity of what we've done to it. They all seemed to have a great time, especially the bass player for The Decibators who, my perfect wife would later remark overhearing him say, noted that we were "the best fucking band I've ever heard!!!" Prolly :30 sec. into the set I spill one cup of water on the floor; 3/4 of the way through the set the Hot Rollers and the girls from The Gloryholes decide it's the appropriate time to have a put the Ding Dongs to good use and wrestle around in them while also stuffing 'em in our various openings. You just can't buy that kinda entertainment. I'm just hoping you can actually wash it out fairly easily.