We're pathologically social. We're professional leisurists. We're burrito lovers, bar flies, art whores and music nerds. We dish the good dirt, and we'll risk a parking ticket for a cheap sample sale. Sometimes, we blog drunk.
The Weekend of Ward: sans le pants
Professor Ward's lesson of the day: When in doubt, remove your pants.
On Friday night, I rushed out of work and eagerly headed to the Upright Citizen's Brigade to catch back-to-back shows of the farcical musical opera "Freakdance: the Forbidden Dirty Boogaloo" (winner of my own personal Best Title Ever award) as well as a later show based around the video game Rock Band. I'm not usually into pointlessly simulated experiences, but beloved L.A. indie rockers Giant Drag have gone through some line up changes, and were staging a 4-minute reunion just for the show. Count me in.
Fake bands with names like "Emo Bortion" and the classic and simple "Shit" took the stage, playing along to disturbingly angular CGI rockers on a screen. Former Giant Drag drummer Micah Calabrese thumped at electronic drum sensors, keeping time with a Beastie Boys song, while frontwoman Annie Hardy strapped on a plastic guitar, smoked a cigarette and delivered some of the evening's best and most offensive humor.
But after several teams' technical snaufs dragged on, a front-row audience member got clocked in the face with a miniature guitar, and one of the hosts declared the event as "from a technical standpoint, a debacle," the finest moment of the night came when one faux band, struggling through an accidental unplugged cord and an off-key rendition of "Detroit Rock City", sensed the audience's apathy. They looked at each other, and wordlessly all removed their pants. Problem: solution. Attention was restored.
So jot it in your diaries, chant it like a mantra: when in doubt, remove your pants. And don't say I never taught you nothin'.
Didactically yours,
Miss Alie Ward
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