I would like to use this thread to address the attendees of the Ladybug Transistor/Starlight Mints show last night. GUYS! They have these places called BARS! At these places, you can drink all you like and talk to your friends about all of the stupid shit you want to talk about and text message your boyfriend and take pictures of yourself for your MySpace page. I KNOW! It's amazing! You can do ALL OF THESE THINGS, and you won't have a band vying for your attention or have to shout over said band. GOD.
What kills me, the Ladybug Transistor is really good. There were five people scattered on the main floor. The rest were lounging on the banquettes lining the sides of the club and carrying on with their little chats about how cute their goddamn outfits are. And what's ridiculous is the local band that kicked off the show had about thirty people on the dance floor, singing along and shaking their asses, AND THEY SUCKED. Truly sucked. It was so tedious. Let me tell you how tedious: there was a guy playing the washboard. There. Now you understand. The lovely bassist for the Ladybug Transistor was selling their merch, and I bought a tee shirt and felt compelled to apologize for my fellow Miamians.
Also, the Starlight Mints were great. Of course, Marian had to say, "We came all the way from Oklahoma to see you. And we want to see you." So, yes, people got their asses on the fucking floor. And it was great.
I want to bring the water bottle I use to spritz my boy cat when he jumps up onto the kitchen counter. He can jump onto any furniture in the house, but not onto the goddamn stove, you know? He once burned his paw pads, and the moo-ron still jumps up onto the counter. (Don't worry -- minor injury. The vet was able to treat it fine, and it was similar to getting a callus or something scraped off by your podiatrist.) Anyhow, I want to take that squirt bottle and waltz up and down those fucking banquettes and squirt those rude little pigs, you know? Ugh.
There was an old dude dancing (badly) at the show. For some reason, he approached me and asked if I was a photographer. Uh, I didn't have any camera with me or even out, nor did I have an equipment bag. Weird. He then told me he was a fashion photographer. I just nodded and smiled and kept dancing. Badly, probably.
This was by far the worst audience I've ever seen at Studio A. I'm disappointed.
