Luc and I ventured out to see DeVotchka perform last night. The snow had stopped, and the streets seemed quite clear, with the exception of side streets.

We got to The Pulse to find it dark and the parking lot empty. A sheet of white paper was hung up, saying "DeVotchka moved to Launchpad".

Launchpad was much more active, but not nearly as crowded as it was last time they played in town. Still, there were plenty of people there, and they performed a great show. (Here's a little youtube video of them doing Twenty-Six Temptations, in case you have no clue what they're like.)

The band looked tired, but still did a really incredible set. This was their last stop on their current tour, so their fatigue is quite understandable.

I don't understand people who think that they can come and stand directly in front of others, though; just dead in front of someone else, so closely violating my personal space that I contemplated whispering in the rank little scenester's ear, "Oh, is this when I fuck you up the ass? But I didn't even buy you dinner..."

Luc and I moved up to the balcony, where no rude bastards in their "oh-so-chic" knit hats were putting their derrières on my genitals or jostling Luc needlessly, and we had a much better time.

Really now, leaving eight inches between myself and the other people around me simply was not an invitation for you to intimately press your body, which you apparently choose to bathe once a week, into mine. Please, little scenesters everywhere: There's a think called "personal hygiene" into which you should look, instead of researching... knit hats, or whatever it is that you do. Thanks!

At some point, Luc whispered to me, "We're just grouchy old men." It's true. Get off my porch.

Aside from the smelly fellows, we did have a great time, and I picked up the band's first CD, "SuperMelodrama". We left right after their set, and found that it had started snowing again. Luc safely delivered home, I too nestled myself down with some Gatchaman before heading off to bed.

This morning, there was more snow. I stupidly wrestled the garbage can to the curb in my slippers; filling them with snow and freezing my poor little feet.

When it was time to head to work, I noticed that the garbage truck couldn't actually make it up my street. I walked the five minutes to work.

Right-o; back at it.

Current Mood: cheerful
Current Music: You Love Me - DeVotchKa