This is a post that I wrote a long time ago, but after hearing this morning's incredibly horrible, fucked up news I felt I'd post it again. I'm still in complete shock and trying to shake off this feeling of sadness. This man and his music had a huge spot in my soul. I can only hope that that one of a kind, hypnotizing voice of his will live on forever and more and more people will now become familiar with his music......отдых в мире Peter
I always love telling this story, although I never get a chance to because I hate bragging of any sort and I always think people don't want to hear me talk about myself simply because I don't want to hear them do it. But it was such a special, cool, and memorial night in my adolescence that I feel I should share it with the two people who actually read my blog...lol So when I was about 16 years old I went to see Type O Negative with my two friends Meghan and Christina. They were both die hard Type O fans as well, especially Christina. So we arrive at the House of Blues super early so we can get right in the front row, which we did. This was the first time I'd ever seen Type O in concert so I had no idea what I was in for. And when Peter Steel came out in all his 6'6 glory I was floored. He was the hugest man I'd ever seen with long black hair, chiseled features, and a voice that could literally blow the bass of your speakers out. We had a blast being so close to the stage, and we sang every word to every song as loud as we possibly could. When the concert was over we headed toward the door and my beautiful friend Christina was stopped by the band's roadie/bouncer dude. He then hands her 3 passes, tells her to give the other two to her friends, and come upstairs. I don't think anybody could or will ever scream as loud as we did right then. So gripping onto our passes (which I still have) as if they were our first born children, we entered the elevator going upstairs to the "V.I.P" room. Just the feeling of being let through into the elevators by security alone was enough to satisfy our teenage hearts for the rest of our adolescence. As we entered into this new world we saw all the other opening bands, beautiful groupies that we had only seen the likes of before in magazines and rock videos, as well as various roadies, managers, and other band members from Type O Negative. Mind you, we are the youngest ones there, and we are no where near dressed like these other chicks. They were clad in leather and corsets from head to toe, topped off with "fuck me boots" like I've never seen. The three of us were in baggy pants, bandannas, and wife beaters. We stood out like a sore thumb and had no idea how to act or what to do with ourselves. So we sat on a couch being completely silent watching the craziness around us. Then suddenly we heard a commotion and saw that Peter Steel was walking into the room. All the hip people started to mob him, the chicks were all over him, and people were asking him questions left and right. He looked super annoyed and tired and as quickly as he came he started to leave. Before we could even compute that he had walked into the same room as us, he turned around as he had one foot in the elevator to go, looked right at me and my friends and said, "well.....are you coming or not?". I swear it's like something had to take over our little bodies for us at that moment or else we wouldn't have moved. We felt like Robots, getting up in sync with each other and following him into the elevator. He didn't say a word the entire way up, and I literally felt like a little person being 5 foot 2 and standing next to this beautiful Polish giant. We then follow him into his dressing room, which was so hip and cool to us. I mean it was the House of Blues. Who knows how many awesome musicians had been in that room? For some reason there were already 3 stripper whore chicks waiting in there. I have no idea what or who they were there for because Peter acted as if they were ghosts and didn't even acknowledge their presence. So he sits down on one couch and offers us a seat on the other one. It's completely silent except for the giggles and hiccups of the drunk strippers sitting next to him. Without saying a word he begins to take his shoes off, then his socks, and starts picking at his feet. My friends and I have absolutely no idea what the holy fuck to say to this guy. It was so surreal and amazing. So we literally just sat and watched him pick at his massive feet. So the stripper whores decide to take it upon themselves to actually speak to Peter and start asking him stupid questions like how many pets he had or some shit. And all he responds with is "I just want quiet....I just want quiet", and rubs his aching head. To this day, I believe he chose us to sit with him in his dressing room simply because we were three young, silent girls. He never made any type of passes at us, and he only offered us vodka (his favorite drink) once and then realized how old we were and never asked again. Which is all very weird, because he is known for his overt sexuality (even posing nude in playgirl), so now that I think about it, maybe he was willing to take advantage of us all along.......SWEET! So we sat there and watched this mysterious, amazing, and talented man pick his feet, and mutter once or twice how much he desired silence, for about 2 hours or so. If it weren't for the fact that we were 16, it being a school night, and my friend's mom waiting to pick us up, we probably would have stayed in that magical place forever. When it was time to go he was so incredibly sweet to us, giving us autographs hugs. I swear that hug felt as if I was being cradled in the arms of the Dark Lord or something. Like if he were to never have let go I would have been lost in some mystical world of leather, black hair dye, and vodka. The next day at school we, of course, wouldn't shut the fuck up about it, and we didn't care. To this day every time I hear Type O, or hear their named mentioned a little twinge of happiness fills me up. I will always remember our little adventure on that wonderful night. Life is meant to be full of various moments just like that, and I am so grateful that I at least got one for my books!
By the way, if you ever decide to Google "Peter Steele in Play Girl Magazine Picture" you are in for a HUGE treat....lol
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Aside from taking me into the heart of our Las Vegas Ghettos on a daily basis, my job forces me to go into neighborhoods in Vegas that I have never even entered before in my entire existence of living here. It also takes me through places that I hadn't been to in a long time, causing great stabs of nostalgic pain in my heart from certain memories and experiences. So yesterday I'm driving down Maryland Parkway and hit my old stomping grounds of Charleston and MP. Of course right on the corner is the historic Huntridge Theater. Now I knew it had been closed down and in bad shape for a while now but nothing prepared me for the state that it is in today. It is completely run down, tagged with graffiti, and apparently the sewage and power has been completely destroyed by it's now homeless inhabitants. I almost rammed right into the Toyota in front of me because I was so shocked! The Huntridge theater isn't just known for the Rock and Roll memories of my past, it is truly a Las Vegas Historical site. Opening in 1944 it was the first non-segregated theater in LV. It was originally built to accommodate the employees of the local factories who worked long shifts and then segwayed into being a theater that premiered movie's such as Sinatra's "Suddenly" where Frank himself sold tickets in it's box office......(You won't see Brat Pitt doing that these days will you?) It served as a theater for various artistic outlets and films. It eventually closed down, renovated, and reopened again. But the Huntridge I remember and now long for was completely different from it's old Hollywood hey day. The Huntridge was the place to go for dirty punk kids like me and my friends to see bands that wouldn't (or weren't allowed) to play anywhere else. Now these bands may not seem like big shit to kids now (or even then) but to us they were huge!! During my adolescence I was able to see The Vandals, NOFX, Voodoo Glow Skulls, The Misfits, Dead Kennedy's, Circle Jerks, Rancid, Suicidal Tendency's, Mike Ness etc. etc., all at the tiny little theater that always smelled like sweat, booze and week old crusted gelatin on mohawks. This was the first place that I learned the power of being a cute girl trying to get back stage at a concert. Where I learned that Jimmy Pop was willing to give an underage girl tons of shots of Jeger if you allowed him to sign your boobies and take pictures of them.....god help me where those photos eventually landed.......good jesus I was dumb. Ah, how I long for those days. For the sticky, Faygo drenched floors from the ICP concerts since The Huntridge was the only place in Vegas they were allowed to play. Also where took place the first and only time I ever danced on stage and looked out into the crowd to see what the band saw. To feel what they felt....hundreds of angry little punkers crowd surfing, throwing beer cups, punching each other in the face and making memories that will later make them ache for their youth. I even miss the little taco shop across the street that sold 59 cent tacos that gave you explosive diarrhea. But that is all gone now.Now after yesterday's little run in I decided to do some google research and find out why the fuck a historical and important theater is just sitting there rotting away in homeless piss. Turns out when it officially closed down in 2004 it was sold to the stupid mother fucker who owns the stupid annoying mattress store next door. Apparently the bastard boasted about reviving the little theater, and he (along with the supposed non-profit organization "friends of the Huntridge") even received more then a million dollars in grants to restore it. And now what has become of the idyllic theater? It's just fucking sitting there and the asshole owner refuses to do anything about it. And apparently because he received so much money in grants he cannot sell it or tear it down until 2018!!!......... 2018!!! Fuck it has to sit there for 8 more years, not only being an eye sore but a constant reminder that any reminisce left of old Las Vegas is completely obsolete. Now it's time to make way for City Centers, and more multi billion dollar theme casinos! It's like something out of a Margarate Atwood novel. Any sense of art and history will no longer be needed in Sin City. After all who gives a shit about the locals? The ones who have to actually live and work here and not just visit a resort casino for a alcohol induced weekend. So I ask, where is this "friends of the Huntridge" group now?? Last they updated anything on their site was in 08' and their other site savethehuntridge.com has vanished. I smell something bad brewing and I don't like it.....and believe me I'm not going to forget it either.
It is complete now the two ends of time are neatly tied. A one-way street, she's walking to the end of the line. And there she meets the faces she keeps in her heart and mind.
They say 'good bye' Tomorrow, Wendy, you're going to die. They say 'good bye' Tomorrow, Wendy, you're going to die.
Underneath the chilly gray November sky We can make believe that Kennedy is still alive and We're shooting for the moon and smiling Jackie's driving by and
They say 'good try' Tomorrow Wendy's going to die. Tomorrow Wendy's going to die.
I told the priest, don't count on any second coming. God got his ass kicked the first time he came down here slumming. He had the balls to come, the gall to die and then forgive us. No, I don't wonder why, I wonder what he thought it would get us. Hey, hey, good bye. Tomorrow Wendy's going to die.
Hey, hey, good bye. Tomorrow Wendy's going to die. Tomorrow Wendy's going to die.
Hey, hey, good bye. Tomorrow Wendy's going to die. Tomorrow Wendy's going to die.
Only God says jump, So I set the time 'Cause if he ever saw her It was through these eyes of mine! And if he ever suffered it was me who did his crying.
Hey hey, good bye. Tomorrow Wendy's going to die (Tomorrow Wendy's going to die) Tomorrow Wendy's going to die (Tomorrow Wendy's going to die) Tomorrow Wendy's going to die
Hey, hey, good bye Tomorrow Wendy's going to die
Hey, hey, good bye Tomorrow Wendy's going to die Tomorrow Wendy's going to die Tomorrow Wendy's going to die
If you have any respect for music as an art form, or music in general, or that the power of entertainment exists and can bring light and joy into life, then you realize what a loss this is. I'm not the type to indulge in the media-whoring that can occur when a celebrity dies (and believe me this is going to be a big one) but I am so completely shocked and saddened by this right now. I know everyone has their opinions (that may be negative most of the time) when it comes to Michael Jackson's life, but I honestly never believed that he hurt those kids in that way. I know it's off subject but I've always believed that he had the mind of a child. I mean it's all right in front of us. The poor guy didn't have a childhood at all. He had an abusive father that worked him to the bone before he even hit puberty, and he has been in the spot light ever since. He is literally the most famous music star in the ENTIRE world! I think he just so desperately wanted to have a child-hood that as an adult he recreated it, even by surrounding himself with children. I know many don't believe it, but I think those accuser's parents just wanted the money. Till the day I die I will never believe that someone who loved kids, helped kids, gave so much to kids, could hurt a kid in a way that was much worse then how he was hurt. And I don't care what anyone thinks of me for believing that. Michael Jackson is a legend. He is up there with Elvis and The Beatles. He may not have made music lately but he still has the biggest following of all time. People would freaking pass out at his concerts and gather at his court-dates because they loved him so much. He changed the history of music as we know it and has inspired so many of the musicians we hear today. Just think of it (if you are a music lover). Just think about your life and your past in accordance with Michael Jackson's music. I remember being so little and being mesmerized by his music videos on MTV (when MTV was awesome). I remember looking forward to seeing what he was going to do next because even at a young age I knew he was something special. I remember Thriller scaring the shit outta me and my sister's playing the record to freak me out because the Vincent Price part was terrifying. I remember having the one silver glove, and seeing Captain Eo at Disney Land. And I remember dancing and singing my ass off every time one of his songs came on....and I still do that! And don't get me started on his dance moves, because they are epic. NO ONE could or ever will be able to move the way he did. His creativity was a gift and a gift that he used well. He was a person not just a characature that we saw so many make fun of and imitate. He had a family, children, and fans who loved him. And his music has touched the world and almost every single person in it. And who the hell says what normal is anyway right? Michael Jackson leaves behind a life and legacy that can compare to no other and whatever he may have been suffering with lately no longer has to be endured. He will be missed.
I'm starting to wonder if I should have two blogs now. One for my review and giveaways and one that is really about things I dig and things I wanna share. But I don't think I'll have the time so some of yous are just going to have to bear with the mixture and if I can open a few people's tastes along the way then cool, if not then eff it.
I am a HUGE HUGE movie freak. I can't describe my love for movies in words. It almost exceeds my love for music. When I was younger I dreamed of being a film maker...honestly I still do, but that train obviously left the station a long time ago and will never happen. So in a dream world I would be a world famous screen writer and film-maker. I feel like I am constantly making a movie in my head and I use films to heal myself, change my mood, and just make me plain happy. I want to introduce those who may not know of it, to a little film called "Hedwig and the Angry Inch". I know I have a lot of stories that relate to me being in rehab (what can I say I've been a treatment one time too many) but this one is really special to me. The first time I went to an impatient facility (which was not fun but if I knew what kind of places were in my future, this place would seem like the four seasons in comparison), I did a lot of movie watching when I got home. My body had just went through hell and all I could do was sit on the couch and watch films. I came across Hedwig in the video store and had always passed it by before, wanting to rent it, but something always stopped me for some reason before. So I felt compelled to watch it and 3 minutes into the movie I already knew it would become one of my most dear favorite films of all times. I think I watched it like 30 times in that week, bought the soundtrack, and learned everything I could about the creator John Cameron Mitchell. I don't want to give away the plot but the movie was so touching and life changing that I would sit and think about it's meaning for hours. Thats when you know a film is good...when it makes you think about it and it haunts you way after the DVD is done playing. The music is incredible and the concept is like no other. It originally was a play that had a HUGE cult following and now it's a film with a HUGE cult following. I highly recommend you at least give this film a chance. For the morally squeamish, you might be appalled at first and I'm sorry for you in that sense, but maybe if you just open your mind a little bit this movie can change you in ways you never imagined. I've included my two fav clips for your viewing pleasure...
So when me and my husband (and Boo Boo) did the AIDS walk a couple months ago we got a cool ass prize package for raising $500.00. And it was 4 tickets to a V.I.P show of Penn and Teller here in Vegas. It was sooooo much fun! I brought along my sister, her best best, and one of my dear friends from college T.J. First we got to go to a meet and greet and eat fancy shamancy Hor’dourves , as well as take pics with Penn and Teller and get a private magic lesson from Teller (yes he actually talks in real life). Teller sat right at our table and talked with us which was pretty cool. I love his part of the duo because....well first he does all the magic....and second his facial expressions are priceless!
Then we got to see their INCREDIBLE show. I was really really impressed. I've been a fan of Penn and Teller's views from their Showtime show "Bullshit' and love all the things they stir up when it comes to certain topics (especially the political stuff) so I was really happy to see that they incorporated a lot of that into the show. And of course who doesn't love magic tricks??? I felt like a little kid sitting there in awe of the illusions they pulled off, and they were really like nothing I've ever seen before, and I'm a fan of magic!
We had so much fun and it was really great getting outta the house for the night. All three of us ladies are mothers of young kids so it was truly a treat to leave the little buggers with the husbands and have some good old Vegas fun! If you ever find yourself in Sin City be sure to check out the show if you get the chance!!!
This story made me burst into tears and I just had to share it on my blog. I love witnessing that there is still good and sweetness in this world, and that the power of film can sometimes heal, bring people together, or just create a little bit of happiness in a dark place.....even for a brief moment..
-"The folks at Pixar helped a dying girl fulfill her final wish when one of their employees hand delivered a DVD of the film Up to the family's residence for a private screening.
10-year-old Colby Curtin was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer in December 2005, and ever since she saw a preview for Up, she'd been excited for the poignant film about a man who goes on an adventure after the loss of his wife by tying balloons to his house and flying away.
After the family had made a request that was never fulfilled for a wheelchair to take Colby to the theaters, a family friend began frantically calling Pixar as Colby's health dramatically worsened.
Finally the friend got through the automated messaging system by guessing a name. Pixar immediately sent out an employee to the girl's home in Huntington Beach armed with a DVD of the film and a gift basket of toys. The family sat around to a private screening.
Colby had difficulty keeping her eyes open through the film because of the pain she was in, so her mother narrated it to her.
Colby died 7 hours later and we hope her final moments were that much more comfortable for having her final wish granted!"
I hope she had sweet dreams of adventures, blue skies, and balloons as she left this life for whatever quest happens next...
As you may have noticed, I haven't been posting much lately (and the reviews and giveaways are piling up!). Recently I had a little medical emergency which turned out to me a stupid ulcer. I guess too much stress, working, a crazy two year old, and copious amounts of caffine, will eventually result in a little ulcer friend growing inside me that make me feel like I had reached the pits of sickness hell. I HATE feeling bed-ridden and sick, but it was also a major wake up call that I need to start taking way better care of myself and try to slow down as much as I can, as well as eat a hell of a lot better then I have been lately. But anyway, I'm SOOOOOOO far behind on my reviews and I deeply apologize to all the wonderful companies I'm working with. I promise everything will be caught up soon. I just need to pace myself a little better. But I guardsmen some great reviews and giveaways will still be on there way
Just like my ModBe swimsuit giveaway that ends in a couple days! Make sure to enter!
I'm never going to be famous. My name will never be writ large on the roster of Those Who Do Things. I don't do any thing. Not one single thing. I used to bite my nails, but I don't even do that any more. - Dorothy Parker
