The Continuing Adventures Of Roxy Shake, Pt. 11: “Too Long, Didn’t Read” (or “Good For Work Tomorrow”)
Tonight I feel like Leonard from Memento. I have all this stuff in my head, and I’m afraid that it will go away if I don’t scramble to grab it all before it fades to something intangible. The big points will remain, but life lies in the finer details.
Tonight was Punk Rockin’ Pastie Poppin’ Vol. 19: XXX-Mas in July - The Second Cumming. It was a fucking good time. Friends have heard time and time again that since I’m only really able to go out once a month, I like to make the most of an opportunity.
My grandmother passed away recently. She left behind an ethos that life should be lived, and that people should go out and have fun while they’re able to do so. In honor of her memory, and after a particularly strange month, it seemed somehow imperative that Roxy and I go have as much fun as we could this month. Punk Rockin’ Pastie Poppin’ is the place we most enjoy doing that.
The hindrance this month was an illness. That seasonal demon that rears its head when the weather goes all “hot-cold-hot-cold" and that congestion drops, and it feels like a wet spongemonster is sitting on your chest until you cry for mercy. I know I’ve cried “drunk” here once or twice, but I loaded up on medicine before we went to the show so that I could guarantee I wouldn’t be too feeble or infirmed to deliver for Roxy’s act this month. Unfortunately, the act itself had a little problem with my medicinal precautions. A beery problem that left me feeling stupid and mush-mouthed pretty much the whole night.