I am soooo pissed off! Man, some day's life sucks and blows at the same time.

Last night after a very nice dinner with StrawberryFrog we went off to see a band together. Now this was the band's last performance and it was not hard to see why. In short they stunk! Now don't get me wrong, the music was great but the general appearance of the band left a lot to be desired. The audience were not much better, I would have thought the Generation X Antipodean crowd would not have smelt like a bunch of hippies that had not showered for twenty years and had been rolling around in dog shit and dead things. Maybe it is because Goths seem to smell a lot different and it has been a long while since I have been in a 'normal' club.

The band sang and played really well but did look very much worse for wear being at the end of their break-up tour. They seemed to be breaking up in more ways than one and the guy who played the brass instruments seemed to be under the impression that leaf mould was the accessory of the moment. I think I would have had a word to the person who did their lighting as well as the colours of the gels where very unflattering. I am sure the lighting tech had put up too many blues and ghastly greens into the lighting rig casting a washed light over the band highlighting their tired and sunken faces.

Being out in the Goth clubs you come to accept that half of them are going to be out of their gourds from various drugs. My memories of heading out into non-Goth venues are a large amount of drinking and puking from the paying club goers. This is where the night got freaky even for me, the entire crowd seemed stoned this was a totally odd experience. I remarked on this to StrawberryFrog who gave his usual enigmatic shrug and continued to bounce around with the dead eyed audience. There also seemed to be also a higher than normal amount of spilled drinks on the floor making it treacherous to walk upon.

It was truly a freaky experience and took the gloss off the night even though the music was good and the company dishy. This morning my favourite shoes are coated in crusty goop and my clothes smelt as if I spent the evening in an undertaker's. I will suggest next time we want to head out that we go to the comparative saneness of a dark and macabre Goth club.