DXDW 08, day five

Whaddya know. I actually heard some music last night. And it was awesome. And it was free*.

Rufus‘ sister rocks out:

       

Well first  I went with J + her brother + R for our Jo’s SXSW tradition. There was some guy with a fuzzy hat who was pretty good. Another band had this totally awesome moment of every single member huddling around the drum kit and everyone banging on a different drum. Made me miss Slutfire . . . and J and I even talked about keeping the joke/gag going of “this is our very last show . . . for real . . . I swear . . .”  but then of course . . . we keep it going for as long as possible.

After a dinner at Polvos (fish taco plate, I know you exist. The waiter doesn’t. But I have had you before with refried black beans) we went to see the boys’ screening of Clothes Horse in the shorts program. Before I tell you about it lemme ask you how/where these  filmmakers are getting alllllllllllll this fucking money for their films. Jesus Christ. I think I have to say I hate you for your production budget. I hate you. I’m saying it. It’s said.

As for the boys’ film - I believe that Alan and Jason have a career ahead of them. Seriously.  They are so much fun to watch together. I am really excited for Craig’s next film which will not only feature Alan and Jason but Jenny and Lee as well!!! Star power. Out the wazooo. The festival cut of Clothes Horse was much sharper which made me proud of the boys for fully embracing the “short film” category (psst: they really want to shoot a feature and they SHOULD!). We got some laughs. I say “we” because you know . . . even though I didn’t produce this one I still claim ownership. Psychotic, I know.

After the screening I rode the bus (tried to get a good old Kriss Kross joke going, no dice) with Craig downtown where we encountered many pairs of tight pants, bandannas, leggings, sunglasses-at-night. We did a tour of Pure Volume or as I now call it - - the Townie Litter Pan.

Then to Club DeVille . Another quick tour of 6th street for the “experience” and a taco at Torchys (que fuerte! ay dios) and home to bed bed bed.

* Why was it free? I think because a long time ago I threw my shoe at the doorman and got over it. Long story short, this guy wasted a bottle of good champagne trying to pour it all over my friend. And I took off my shoe, a high heel mind you, and threw it at his head. Now . . . if he was Middle Eastern I would understand why this would be taken as such a serious insult because I know culturally that’s the biggest burn evah. But he’s American. I don’t understand why for like three years afterwards he’d always whine about how I was the girl who threw her shoe at him. I thought it was hilarious. I wasn’t obviously trying to hurt him (and I didn’t) - - it was more of an impulsive move. YOU’RE WASTING CHAMPAGNE! HIGH HEEL TO THE JUGULAR! That’s funny right?

Anyway. How did I get in for free? Your answer is - - - I don’t know. He must’ve gotten over the shoe thing and felt apologetic about the champagne thing. And I was ever so grateful because I was not about to spend $13 just to go into a club to find my friends . . . even though I did fall in love with Martha Wainwright.