Vexing: And I'm Missing IT!!!

I almost forgot that I had this blog but since I've stopped drinking and blogging it's almost hard to get me to do anything with it. It's more fun when I'm complaining so let me bring that back into the mix. I'M SO BUMMED THAT I'M NOT GOING TO THE OPENING OF THE VEXING SHOW!! Here: this is what I'm talking about. Of course it's just the goofy Agustin Gurza article on the event. I always imagine Gurza rocking some sort of long mullet of indio hair in that Mexicano bourgeois bohemian kind of way. I have never seen his face but he always misses the target of most of his articles. Anyway, my complaint isn't his ass but the fact that I'm going to miss the AMAZING ALICE BAG, TERESA COVARRUBIAS and their little sister, LYSA FLORES, deliver some damaged girl medicine. Now, those are my gutter goddesses!

So, get your ass to Claremont and get mixxxy in the mosh pit for me. I'm going to be sleeping off some airport bug in a dingy Oregon hotelroom. I can already see it, running through the forest all Harold and Kumar style on our way to the gay music festival in Eugene, Oregon. I'm not looking any gift horse in the mouth--is just that some people organize better than others and the white folks up north got us way back in February and Vexing organizers did not.

Alas, do not worry. Butchlalis de Panochtitlan will be performing on June 21st as a way to get you to foot walk through the show. Yes, we'll be doing snippets and then some of Barber of East L.A. (which everyone is loving by the way) at the Claremont Museum of Art, curated by the likes of Colin Gunckel and Pilar Tompkins. There's already what is either my favorite Prince album or people just tripping about East L.A. semantics. You think it was a comic-con or something, but you should peep Alice Bag's blog for the pedo around pedigree and punk rock locality. I always thought you carried your location like a burden so that somehow informs where you're at--you know, it's not where you're from...oh wait, wrong genre. Wait for next year for the East L.A. hip hop exhibit--but that wouldn't be interesting, now would it? Everyone knows in their heart that Chicanos can't rap. Doesn't mean I don't like it. Even I love being a Hispanic causing panic.

Did I tell you how I spent Cinco de Mayo? On the main Santa Clara drag in San Jose, wachando the lowriders go by as I made my way to the Emergency Room for a throat infection. I spent more time in traffic then I did in the ER--but that's probably because I have insurance. Still, it was like Lowrider magazine vomiting all over the downtown SJ area--girls, lil' shorts, high heels and wrapped in the Mexican flag. It was crazy...it would've been okay but then this is Sharks country. Total mindfuck.