ManoolaTakeTwo

Adults with Braces

Adults with Braces are one of the many things that crack me up consistently. They are just so shameless about, grinning big and eating things that middle-schoolers/high-schoolers have steered clear from, like corn, carrots and beets. 

I guess Colombia just got braces technology cos when I go back, every 30-something has a fucking pair. And they’re speaking to me in this lispy spanish and they have empanada innards matted to their teeth and I’m trying to take a few steps back cos I keep envisioning the meat wads flying at my face with every tongue flick. 

So I Went to a GWAR show last night…

I’d been toying with the idea of going to a gwar show for several months now, intrigued but frightened. I just assumed I would probably die at one of their shows show from either getting sacrificed to the gods of mosh or guzzling so much fake blood that my body would get confused and start circulating the dyed corn starch. However, after hours of research on gwar concerts, i evaluated that the possibility of surviving was much higher than I had previously thought. After reading through a lot of material, I came across the line that would be the deciding factor in attending the show:

“Gwar fans are some of the nicest people in the world. They may look like scummy rapists and they definitely smell like a still-birth but they’re good people who will have your back.”

I was sold. So I got tickets to the Gwar show at Music Hall of Williamsburg to go with the 3 most bad-ass dudes ever. They may not look like much and they definitely stood out amongst the crowd of Rake Yohn’s and their collective weight was probably a fifth of the average weight of these GWARriors but they were very excited to get beat up, lose teeth, lose dignity and get soaked in UFL’s (Unidentifiable flying liquids). As was I. So first we went to a bar in the Burg and took a few shots. We got in line at the concert and talked smack to some dumb couple who insisted that i exchange numbers with them in case I would need to go to the hospital later. thanks for the optimism, losers.

As soon as we got in, we went to the bar and pounded a couple more shots then went upstairs and claimed our space on the floor. The crowd was pretty calm before Gwar came on but the second they started to shred, the gwarriors erupted into a moshing frenzy of hate, love and hormones. I was right in it for a while, jumping and punching the air with my new companions, and slipping and sliding and moving with the crowd involuntarily. In the first few minutes, my friend had already gotten punched in the face and was bleeding and his shirt was covered with deep red from his own real blood and a diluted red from the fake blood. In between the first few songs I looked around and realized I had lost sight of my friends, which was fine. The crowd would bring us together at some point and then push us away again. It was just the nature of the show. I asked my new friend, a big dude with a shirt that read “Born to Fuck” to lift me up into the crowd. He obliged and the next thing I know I was riding a wave of hands and looking at Gwar from inside-out upside down. Needless to say, I felt pretty bad-ass. 

I purposely wore a white shirt to see what crazy liquids would be thrown at me. Within 20 minutes, I was drenched in blood, my hair was matted to my head and I looked like I was just thrown from the womb.

At most points in the night, I was IN it. With the fucking people, pounding and pushing and jumping. Sometimes I wouldn’t even have to move and I would be pulled and pushed and twirled. Other times, my fellow companions would politely shove me to the side. I could hold my own but when you’re in between 4 dudes that way 250 lbs each and are essentially professional metal dudes, you step away. I went crowd-surfing a couple more times after, got into the pit a couple more times but had one slightly scary moment and pulled away for a little bit. The floor was drenched with blood and so became very slippery. My shoes, I realized, had little traction and turned into a personal slip n slide. At one point, I slipped so fast and fell right into the mosh pit, like vertical on the ground and around me were steel-toe combat boots jumping centimeters from my head. But within seconds I was back on my feet, with the help of some really nice dudes who had seen my fall and envisioned a boot crushing my skull and my teeth popping out. It would have ruled for probably everyone but me but sacrificing my body to the gods of metal is a nice way to go off, no? 

When Gwar finished, they started playing “Staying Alive” by the BeeGee’s on the speakers and in a total nonchalance, and as if everyone had not just been throwing elbows and headbutting the shit out of eachother, the whole crowd just started swaying gently with the music. We got outside and realized our friend was missing so we decided to assume he was okay and went to the diner. We ate meatloaf which is pretty much the only suitable thing to eat after attending a gwar show. that or raw bear flesh. 

(that used to be a white shirt) I know what you guys are thinking. Wow you look really fucking good for having just rubbed up on sweaty metal-heads and having been groped and blooded up. I guess I was just made for metal. Anyways, now my skin is just permanently tinted pink. 

I didn’t really know I’d be so into metal. Especially cos I also really like the ballet and love a good Rihanna song. 

Follow-up story: turns out the friend who we lost (I will not use his name) got picked up by the police cos his shirt was covered in real and fake blood and so naturally they thought he was really hurt. they made him go to the hospital, even though he tried to explain to them that he was just at a metal show and some of the blood was real but most of it was fake and he really didn’t need to go to the hospital but i imagine he was slurring pretty badly and wasn’t very comprehendable. 

sick bruise i got

my white shirt the next day