24 Hour Party People

Well, it’s 8AM on SUnday, I’ve had almost five hours of sleep, and I’m going to run down the Halloween Party so I can avoid cleaning up.

In short, it was a blast. A lot of folks showed up, we all drank too much, and then we called it a night. There was another party about three doors up from our place, and quite a few people from are party had gone their first, hung out a bit, and then realized they had the wrong place. I hope they all snagged beers while they were there.

And now, the photos!

Shawna’s jack-o-lantern. She was very proud.

Matt, Beck, and Gabe make an early appearance.

Randy as a toasted Dr. Strange.

Tess as Tank Girl.

Chris as El Queso Blanco (Randy: The White Cheese?)

Jonathan as Ace Ventura (or ballerina Jonathan).

Tammy as Medusa.

Karen as a Bat-Girl (or winged chick in tight shirt).

JP as Indiana Jones.

Greg as Tom DeLay.

George as an undead, buck-toothed Tom Petty (George is my bestfriend of some eighteen years, as I didn’t even come close to recognizing him when he arrived).

Danny and Zan as a pimp and what I believe is a cop-themed whore.

Alyssa as Girl with Tongue.

And party scenes…

Randy hangs ten as folks watch The Fog.

Alyssa and Greg see the face of God.

Assorted Asylum Street Spankers show up, dressed as musicians.

Wammo broods.

…While Tracy dances.

Tammy, Chris, and I start getting drunker.

Tammy and Paul kiss as only drunk married couples can.

Chris and Tammy continue getting drunker, this time with Alyssa.

And Chris gets a little too drunk.

Tammy and Shawna start making out (one of the joys of going to parties with Shawna’s friends is seeing who Shawna will make out with).

Fueled by jealousy, I offer myself to Paul, only to be shot down.

Luckily, Tammy offers me a lovely parting gift.

So, the party was a blast. I’m sure we’ll host another next year.

Y’all come back now, y’hear?

Tomorrow… Party.

Ah, it’s Friday, and all I can think about is the Halloween party Shawna and I are throwing tomorrow. We still have to buy beer and food, make a run to the lightbulb store (yes, Austin has a store dedicated to selling lightbulbs; I love this town!), install said lightbulbs, clean the house, hang tarps, spread cobwebs, test the fog machine, and put the cats in a safe place.

Then I’m fucking going to bed.

A Trip to Rundberg came in yesterday, and it looks great. In a fascinating turn of events, it smells even better! It dawned on me that I really need to update my bibliography. I probably could use a page redesign, as well.

Finally, I will have the following movies on constant rotation during the halloween party: The Changeling, April Fool’s Day, Evil Dead I and II, Ringu and The Ring, From Dusk ’til Dawn, The Fog, The Thing, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original), Dawn of the Dead (remake), Night of the Living Dead (original), and Black Christmas.

A Wonderful Song: Twilight

“Twilight” is the last song off of Twilight, the debut record from Greg Dulli’s Twilight Singers (Yeah, he likes the word “twilight”). It caps off a long record about love, loss, and all matters of lust and death between, and it does so perfectly.

Beginning with a touch of organ, a drum machine comes in, all kick and cymbals before a rim shot brings the vocals in. The vocals are practically whispered by Dulli, Harold Chichester, and Shawn Smith. They lilt over one another like currents swirling through dead trees.

“When darkness falls on Summer’s end…”

This isn’t going to be a happy song. As the verse continues, the haunting notes of saxophones fill the background. Shawn plays with the horns vocally, a single “Aahhh” that curls through the verse as Greg takes control.

And then the chorus.

“Everything’s gonna be all right.”

A glimmer of hope with a beautiful melody. A spot of light in near impenetrable darkness.

The second verse.

“The longest night of every year I spent beside you.”

Harold takes over, with Shawn just underneath him. Their other vocal tracks rise and fall behind them. The drums are louder. Greg takes over for another chorus, one that continues as the song turns and churns around it. Shawn breaks off on his own, then Harold sings a single line…

“The way it was intended.”

Everything cuts save the organ. A moment’s pause, and then we’re back, practically pounding to be let out. Greg’s vocals throughout the final verse are desperate, Harold and Shawn pushing him from beneath. Harold sings the last line before the final chorus.

“And love lives not, and hope is gone.”

“Everything’s gonna be all right.”

More horns, shivers of guitar. The drums push.

“Everything’s gonna be all right.”

Their voices grow sad. Greg sings from underneath…

“And if my love, I said I’m sorry
Would you believe me? Should I cry?
And hold me…”

“Everything’s gonna be all right.”

Fade to voices, a last tremor of organ, and out.

There aren’t many songs that are this powerful to me. “Give Me Just a Little More Time,” “Everything Evil,” “Turn Around, Look at Me,” maybe “Dollskin.” There just aren’t that many, but “Twilight” does it to me everytime.

I’m thinking about this song for a reason, something that goes in a story. It’s a story I’ve talked about here before, and it’s a story I’m beginning to realize I was born to write. I have chills, and I have tears in my eyes and electricity in my brain. I could freeze you with a touch or burn you with a kiss, and you’d love me just the same.

Somewhere, there’s a guy who goes by the name of Jellybean. Everybody loves him. He’s the happiest guy you’ve ever met, but at night he goes home alone and sits in a corner of his darkened room, hugs his knees to his chest, squeezes his eyes shut, rocks back and forth and tells himself…

“Everything’s gonna be all right.”

Random comic bits…

The first issue script of Warren Ellis’ Fell. It’s always a treat to read Warren’s scripts, as you can learn a lot about the craft of comics writing on top of the engrossing story.

Preview of Simon Oliver and Tony Moore’s upcoming series The Exterminators. I’ve been looking forward to this ever since Tony explained it to me on the phone. “It’s Six Feet Under with bug exterminators.” Who wouldn’t buy that? Scroll to the bottom for the preview.

Who’s appearing in Artist’s Alley at Wizard World Texas? Well, besides me there’s a fuckton of people. Go see Tony Moore, Rick Remender, B Clay Moore, Greg Thompson, and Les Weiler. And that’s just off the top of my head.

Oh, and come see about me!

Fear of a Tasteless Planet (Week 9)

The Tea House
13376 N Highway 183 # 100

Reviewing The Tea House is a pleasure because it’s one of my favorite places to eat. It’s a strange anomaly for Austin, a pretty big Chinese/Vietnamese place with a full-service bar that doesn’t cost n arm and a leg. The prices are about what you’d expect at a take out place. The Tea House isn’t some run down place with a chipped counter, though. It looks nice!

As for the food, The Tea House has some of the best hot and sour soup in town. Unlike most places, it’s actually hot. I know. I was shocked, too. The portions are monstrous, designed to be shared by the table rather than gobbled by the individual, and they rarely cost more than six dollars. The chicken fried rice (my personal gold standard for any Chinese place) is light. It won’t turn into lead in your guts. If you really want a treat though, go with one of the Vietnamese rice plates. The lemongrass chicken is excellent.

The Tea House has several lunch specials, all of which include soup, eggroll, and a chicken wing. They serve dim sum every Sunday (possibly Saturday, as well), though I’ve never tried it. The staff is attentive and clean, and if you get tired of watching them bustle about, you can check out the four fish aquariums (that you can order out of).

In short, get your ass to The Tea House!

Pros: The food, the service.
Cons: Um, it’s a little out of the way?

Rating: Is the cook single?

Ah, that’s better.

Well, now that my head’s clear and I’m a little calmer… I feel good. I’m not sure if I forgot to buy tickets or if something weird happened to my credit card. I think I might have used the pre-order site on the same day tickets went on sale at Front Gate. I don’t know. Whatever. Shawna helped me feel better once she stopped being bitter about me spoiling her evening alone by being home.

Looks like I failed to plug Dan’s latest comedy show. Sorry, Dan. I keep screwing these up.

Fear of a Tasteless Planet tomorrow (we’ll be reviewing The Tea House!). Yeesh. I don’t know how Randy does this shit week in and week out, and he does a lot more than me! Kudos, Mr. Lander. Kudos.

Ugh. I need to write up a few contracts tonight. I hate doing that. Another of the many things I don’t get paid to do that take time away from writing.

I’m a stupid piece of shit.

You know the Coheed and Cambria show I was going to tonight? The one I’ve been looking forward to since I last saw them live a YEAR ago?

I forgot to buy tickets.

I got so caught up in all the shit I have to do, in waiting to find out if I had to buy George a ticket too, that I forgot to buy one for myself. I found this out at willcall when I went to pick up “my ticket.” I don’t have money to pay at the door, so I’m sitting at home drinking shit beer while my favorite band puts on a show twenty minutes away.

Fuck me.

Y’know, I remember to buy tickets to Shawna’s favorite band. I pay Shawna back for a Foo Fighters ticket that she springs on me. I can get a Veruca Salt ticket two days before the goddamn show, and I can buy a ticket to Our Lady Peace three days in advance because George asks nicely. But MY FAVORITE FUCKING BAD?!?!?!?!

I forget.

I’m going to live my life as a giant fucking waste of breath.

Well, this is swell…

Thirteen-year-old twins Lamb and Lynx Gaede have one album out, another on the way, a music video, and lots of fans.

They may remind you another famous pair of singers, the Olsen Twins, and the girls say they like that. But unlike the Olsens, who built a media empire on their fun-loving, squeaky-clean image, Lamb and Lynx are cultivating a much darker personna. They are white nationalists and use their talents to preach a message of hate.


Good Apollo

After waking up to the biggest tease and subsequent letdown of my career thus far (Thanks, Rick!), I proceeded to get a lot done. I finished the second draft of Saint James and a first draft of its one sheet. Looks like I’ll be artist-hunting in Dallas after all. I also scrapped the short story I was working on after figuring out a different way of attacking it.

Read through what I have completed of Run Like Hell and realized the fourth chapter needs a major rewrite. Mid-November looks undo-able, but it took Keene a few years to write In the Garden Where My Rain Grows, so I think I’m still a little ahead of the curve.

Or not.

My final project for Saturday was stapling fifty copies of Ruined. Looks like I’m just about ready for Wizard World Dallas.

I realized I never commented on the Our Lady Peace show last week. That’s because it was cancelled. Going to Coheed and Cambria tonight, though, so don’t feel bad for me.

Or feel bad. Whatever works.