The text messages are in, and I'm having a panic attck at all that I'm missing tonight. I should text Stephen Hawking and ask him if he's working on any portals in the time space contnuum, and if he wants to kick it with me at the Hammer tomorrow/yesterday/tonight.

The Pity Party plays for free at the Hammer with the Little Ones

Foxy rock trio The Front plays at the Scene, brought to you by the lovely Rock Insider

Worst Laid Plans, tales of enduring really awful bootay is at UCB

And the Downtown Art Walk is in full swing, including this bitchin' event 

I just realized that I'm not at any of these events because I'm too busy blogging about them. Hands up, how many people think that's whack?

Okay, hold on...getting a final count...

Ultraviolet gets ultraviolent

Just returned from the over-capacity Kid Dangerous launch. Given the solid reps of the party's sponsors and organizers, it had a far more Hollywood frat-boy vibe than I was expecting, complete with jocky dudes breathing Michelob in my face. Bleh. 

The Grey Kid did his karaoke-rap thing, but the most notable lesson came when the hyperglam Ultraviolet came on. After receiving a flaccid response, the lead singer (bless her spandexed heart) started getting all drill-sergeant, angrily commanding that people enjoy the set. I totally felt her pain, but you can't force someone to love you. I learned that at my junior prom.

Anyway, I left with a gift bag containing a Monster energy drink, some advertorial post cards, and a tiny keychain of a beer bottle. I won't say they never gave me nothin'. Meh.