Ugh, where to start. Wednesday, St Patty’s Day, ( I don’t have a lick of Irish in me, but they do make fabulous whiskey) was a night thing because I had to work all day. After work I went downtown and drank my face off by myself, well, not by myself – with the other 120,000 people there (and the verizon network). I was rollin solo and decided to fake an English accent in order to get free drinks. Guess what, it worked! I weaseled my way into someone’s audio interview and then decided to head home, work @ 7am on Thursday was quite painful.

Thursday – I got off work at 3:30 and hung out with my homegirls (i love you guys). They drink whiskey, we are the hot mess express. That night I saw The Gary, GLITTERBILLIES, The XX, The Great Nostalgic, and a Memphis Rap showcase – including Lord T and Eloise…who I fucking adore! I got some heart to heart in with my girl LA Cameron and that was precious. Ate dinner that night at a sandwich trailer. I love trailers.

Friday – Baby Robots played at the Leisure Tourniquet Equinox Mish Mash day show…my girl Henna scored me free pair of Keen shoes and I drank waaaaay too much beer. Mind you, it was only 2pm. Went home to welcome my parents. They came in because Friday night I sang with the legendary ST 37, who played with Houston’s Rusted Shut and Future Blondes, and Japan’s Acid Mothers Temple. I think all of my friends were there, it was insane. (Ella – where the hell were you?) I was positively hammered, but kept my shit together to get work done!

Saturday – I got a very very late start, 8:30pm. I drove to my friend’s record store, Trailer Space, and left car there and hoofed it downtown. It was cold as fuck, but a beautiful night none-the-less. Got downtown about 10, gave Wendy some warm clothes, and then headed to the “bounce” showcase at Submerged. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, “Bounce” is a new, to me, genre of music out of New Orleans that is African American transvestite rappers. (You know – like those ST 37 old fuckers that have been playing since ’87, but people are just figuring it out) And holy hell, Katey Red was HOT! Also saw Bowling for Soup – I am so not into them, but they did an improv audience karaoke deal at the end of their show that was super fun. And, they have fun and they are pros, so I respect their craft. Katie (not sure about this first name) Flay was rad. Solo act. And now…I’m tired. My honey couldn’t remember where he parked (this is not the first time, mind you) so we walked around the parking garage for far too long. However, I had some stickers on hand so I decided to decorate some cars. So, if you were rollin in a BMW station wagon this weekend…and you find a “Defend New Orleans” sticker on your car. Yes, that was me, and yes, you are welcome!

Oh wait – I forgot to mention that there were two people FUCKING on stage at the trannie show, they got kicked out…and I got a fabulous story. I did not see cuz I’m so god damned short, but…still. Food, eh…I was infatuated with the empanada trailer earlier in the week, but to be honest – after all the recreational indulgence I encountered over the past 6 days…not all that interested! SXSW, you have done me right yet again. I’m getting too old for this shit.

Who sucked: (bands not to waste your cheese on) – She and Him, he who is talented and she who needs to stick with her day job.  Broken Bells – er, boring combo.  Hey Dangermouse, you lucked out with Gnarls Barkley – don’t push your luck, pal.  The XX – heard it about five years ago, it’s called My Morning Jacket.  Surfer Blood – rich Florida parents = even if you suck you can still be famous…sigh.  Cymbals Eat Guitars – Hey Joe, you ripped off my friend Matt and he plays in my garage for free.

That being said, I still wasted my time watching all these assholes…and I plan to do it again next year!

oy vei!  this place is one hot mess!  i have been waiting for a really long time to post about it because i felt really bad about what is about to go down in this post…sorry, simplicity, but you deserve it… 

me and my girl went there a little bit ago to check it out.  i had noticed it pop up in the hood, and i like to check out new frontiers…even if to merely mock them.  all the better.

concept is stellar, for the most part.  a fabulous selection of spanish and argentian wines (besos), and tapas that all ring in under $4.  sounds pretty right on, yeah?  so, we order – all tapas are served in 3-4 oz servings…which is enough for two to share – a few testers and get down to business.  the garbanzo bean thing?  NASTY.  it was cold.  the cheese plate?  yeah, anytime you set a piece of manchego in front of my pie hole, i’ll swoon.  however…everything was served on paper plates, with paper spoons (like those that come with the trial size blue bell things), and the presentation was simply atrocious at best.  i had to ask the wait person what the hell was up and she informed me that they use “corn” based plates and eating-ware as to conserve water (from not doing dishes) and therefore substantialize on the name “simplicity”.  i was semi beside myself.  i love the idea, but it’s simply not what i expect when i spend $50 on tapas and wine.  also, i began to think after we left…my wine glass was glass, and it needs to be washed.  does it not get washed?  not sure.  if you dare to go there after this post…please ask them and let me know.

simplicity…i tried to like you.  i tried to embrace you.  i really did.  you lost the battle…fair and square.

with a sad (but very green) heart,

GBJ

ps, on a lighter note: me and some homies are gonna try JUSTINE’S on wednesday.  a new little french bistro that opened up on the east side.  the menu looks heavenly, with an atmosphere to boot.  i’ll let you know how it goes.

here, look…yum, huh?  Justine‘s

The “old” Kate Gosselin had a pretty awful, yet coveted, do…

After eight little fuckers and a (much needed) divorce from her (Ed Hardy, Micheal Lohan – admiring), ex…Kate has managed to re-invent herself. Yes, she looks better, but no, if my ex-husband ever dated someone younger than myself, I would never try to copy her hairstyle…you’ve crossed the line, sister.

First of all, let me tell you this once again, I know that I have bragged about it before, and…rightfully so. One of my friends is the executive producer of this little show that is historical in Austin, Austin City Limits. And no, I am not speaking of the idiot festival that comes through every year (and keeps getting worse). Anywhoo, I pretty much have free and open access to all the tickets that I care to have. (they are not for sale, you have know someone to get in). So, bf and I had tickets reserved to see Sonic Youth tape there 10/5. Then, old and frail Lee Renaldo had to go and break his wrist (i think he was jacking off to his new album…which totally sux, by the way). SY ends up canceling their acl tv appearance and are sadly replaced with THEM CROOKED VULTURES. Crooked pretty much breaks it down for you. If you have not seen them, don’t bother. A few months back I was lucky enough to go see My Bloody Valentine, they handed out ear-plugs and rocked so hard people were leaving and throwing up…now that is a show! So anyways, these idiots hand out ear-plugs to the crowd so we automatically assume they are going to R-O-C-K. Wrong! The little pink pussy that was singing sounded like an old southern grandma singin me a lullaby. It was a giant, awful mess. There is no way that that faggot (sorry, craig) had any right to be up on that stage where the likes of Bonnie Raitt, Willie Nelson, Neil Young, and Roky Erikson have once stood! There is simply no way.

(please note his ***styrofoam*** cup, as he claims to be so green.  Kinda think he was trying to hide his beer.  and what the fuck was he thinking when he rolled his sleeves up like that.  if i were that dumb bitch he was with i would kindly suggest he just put on a short sleeve shirt)

And, just when you think that it can’t possibly get any worse, Lance “I have cancer wah wah wah” Armstrong, local celebrity and famous Austin ass-hole and French punching bag has to stand in your line of sight. Him and all his idiot glory. So, in the beginning of the show, the producers come out and ask you to turn off your cell phones and introduce the band and blah blah blah…about one song into the show, this fuckin one-nutted loser pulls his phone out to take a picture when a staff member reaches out and taps him on the shoulder asking him to put his phone away. (he should have punched his cross-eyed face in) The rest of the show (well, we only stayed for three songs) he was texting. What the hell is wrong with this guy and why does he think he is so god damn wonderful?

Apparently, I am not the only one on this planet that thinks this guys needs to fall in a hole, bc after hearing of our experience, a friend of mine sent me this link…the top ten reasons why Lance Armstrong is a douche-bag. I must say…it made me smile.

(Sorry, daddy, for draggin you to that bullshit, and for bein a bitch. I love you.)

Someone’s gonna die,
GBJ

ps – if you read the 10 reasons list, the comment section is filled with a plethora of reasons why he is such a douche-bag!  take note of the posting that points out the fact that he uses the most water of anyone in town to water his lawn (again, not very green).  it’s the truth, it was in the paper.  he also apparently threw a fit to a friend who worked in a bakery bc they ran out of multi grain bagels.  he made a scene.  if i were her i would have rubbed a plain bagel on my twat and told him that lox was the daily special.  what a dick face.

*how the hell did i wake up in time to get here this morning, shower, get dressed (not the best outfit of the century), manage to hide my alcohol breath and not puke? looks like it’s gonna be a good day.

*i am currently eating salt out of the packet. too bad i dont have anything to put it on. im not really hungry, just bored.

*i love reading texts from last night, it’s comforting to know that many people in a productive society like to drink, fuck, and get high just as much as i do.

*speaking of fuck, i’m kind of horny right now. not ravenous, but it may get to that point by the time i get home. watch out daddy. (i am not about to search for an image here at work, that guy that previously occupied the office next to mine got fired for watching the porn while on the clock.  but, he also got is masters, so – he wins)

*i went to get a service at this local shit hole, called EMBELLISH (that’s right, if you deserve it, imma drag your fuckin name through the dirt) and they fucked up big time. the appointment was @ 5pm or something like that. first of all, the salon/spa (whatever and hardly) is in this atrocious strip mall/multi use development thing near campus called “the triangle”. if you are from boca raton, it will look familiar. second of all, it’s always packed with a bunch of fuckin snotty little asshole college bitches and it’s impossible to find a parking spot. so….i get there at like 5:03 and they call me on my cell phone while i am walking through the front door threatening to give my appt away bc the next client is there. are you fucking kidding me i am thinking to myself. you just fucked with the wrong bitch. so, i get into the aesthetician’s chair and asked what the hell was up that lady’s ass at the front desk. she says it’s been a long day and she was upset that i was late. (the aesthetician by the way was very sweet and did quality work – it’s apparent she needs to find a new location) So, a ten minute procedure turned into “I’m never going back to that joint and I am going to spend the rest of my life on this planet letting everyone know what a giant jack off it is.  so, hey Embellish…suck my dick!  (it’s the tall cunt in the brown shirt that mis-treated me so – if you see her in a dark alley, kick her fuckin ass)

*Can you believe that this person is trying to sell this god damn, countrified, old as shit bar stool on craigslist for $125? Yeah, me either. That’s why I emailed her. I suggested that she reconsider her pricing strategy. Just bein helpful, I’m good like that.

*my hangover is starting to kick in. it’s a good thing i have an appointment to see the best doctor on this planet. he believes in vicodin, and i believe in him!

incognito and jedi style,

GBJ

And only because he is soooooooooooooooo hot!

Yes, I was ,indeed. My very good friend is “the big dog” of the tv show and he gives me the tickets I want. He has me spoiled…Anyways, we went on Sunday to see Bette and Pinetop Perkins play and, as ususal, it blew my mind! She was so full of energy and soul and had such a divine stage presence. The studio only holds about 300 people and the sound quality is far superior to anything I have ever heard in my life. It was so emotional, the kid next to me was crying…you know who you are …

Here is where I become a huge stuck up, obnoxious, brat! YOU CANNOT GET TICKETS! You can’t buy them, you can’t trade for them, you just can’t. (I am sure that there are some people out there that can, but most of you cannot) You can listen to the radio to hear the secret location where they will give away the free tickets…if you can even find the schedule of who is playing…and wait all day in line for a “maybe” ticket. No Thank You!!! I will stick w/ my main man on this one…but if you decide to see for yourself, good luck, you’re gonna need it! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

“It’s fun trying to get pregnant.”

– Gwen Stefani, on the process of baby making, to V magazine

Look people, try all you want, just don’t do it!

That’s what I read from gabsmash.com.  Hopefully it’s not true.  Hopefully she is going in for some extended plastic surgery and some dental work.  This hoe is ick!

So, the last I heard, Carey and Pink had decided on an open relationship…pre-marriage…and then, her clock starts ticking, and once a bitch wants a baby, all the fun ends from there.  No more open relationships, no more fun.  Pa-lease.  If I had to look at her face every time I wanted to fuck, I would have this brunette bitch on my sleeve too, in hopes of erasing the evil  memories of sleeping with a WWE heavy weight champ.

Anyways, the pic was taken in Vegas, it did not stay in Vegas…and Pink is pissed.  Don’t know who the sassy hoe is in this pic, but sure is a fuck load better to look at then P-I-N-K.  You go Carey.