Thursday, June 29, 2006

Let's be specific about this.

My actual birthday is tomorrow. Or tonight at midnight. Whichever definition you prefer is fine with me. I just wanted to get that out of the way so that when I'm flashing my ID to get free booze on Friday people aren't all like, "Hey, weren't we at your birthday party last night? What's up with the two-day birthday?"

Well, one, in my family we stretch the birthday celebration out as long as possible. I think my mom holds the record for eight days although Photogal came close this year with six days of celebration. Me? I'm lucky if Photogal gives me a full 24 hours within which to celebrate in any way I see fit.

And, two, yes, that was a hell of a party. oh wait, the party hasn't happened yet. Why? Because it's tonight! Wa-hooo!

My birthday parties are fun. Thousands of satisfied customers over the years can attest to that fact. The music is always great and I am never less than entertaining. Especially when I'm falling down and saying, "Deja vu." Tonight will be no less than completely mind-blowingly alien-orgasmically awesome. I've upped the ante by booking Muchacha and Textbook to tear the roof off the joint (word is multiple members of both bands have taken Friday off in anticipation of all the "fun" they will have.) Photogal will provide cowbell laden tuneage when I'm not drunkenly pawing her or the mixer.

But the thing that makes tonight really special is that it also marks the debut of Rudy's new band, The Midnight Shows. I can not wait to hear what they sound like. My anticipation has ratcheted up yet another notch since I just found out his band features both a Fender Rhodes and a full phalanx of female back-up singers. A bevy of beauties? Whoa! What is that about?! I guess we'll find out tonight. I am dying of anticipation.

For details, you can always look at the lovely poster that Josh and Gina designed for me, but for those who prefer their information in a more straightforward manner, you may find the following information useful in constructing an agenda for this evening while mapping out the best route to take you to the party of the century/month/day:

TONIGHT at THE PONTIAC

It’s The Tankboy Birthday Spectacular!

Muchacha
Textbook
The Midnight Shows

DJs: Tankboy, Cowbell

Show at 9:00
no cover!

Okay, we've gotten that out of the way. I expect to see each and every frickin' one of you there tonight. That includes the blurkers. The place will be packed so you can just continue to blend into the trim if you so choose. or you can pop on up and say hi. Also, a number of Chicagoist writers will be there so this would be a perfect time to just smack them upside the head instead of leaving them faceless snarky commentary underneath their posts. Also, ask Mr. Smith to show you his Superman tattoo. And you think I'm kidding.

Seriously, tonight will be memorable. Or it may be wiped clean from your memory due to over consumption of alcoholic beverages. Either way I guarantee that, in the moment, you will have more fun than you thought possible. Well, almost possible.

Oh, about two of the three above photos: I don't know why, but it just seemed like a Swayze kind of morning. I mean, doesn't he look so happy leaping and bounding?*

*Yes, between that phrase and Mr. Smith I am certainly a bit Super-slap happy this morning.

__________

What I learned.

Sarah Silverman's comedic songs don't strike people as being as funny when you can't see her cute as a button lips actually forming the bracing verbiage that can easily scrape sensitive sensibilities. As a matter of fact, when you play one of her songs there is a good chance 98% of the bar is going to look at you like you just stepped on a baby and shoved it in the microwave while the remaining 2% will be laughing so hard snot will be running down their chin. You will also realize that Silverman gets away with an awful lot by sheer virtue of her being so frickin' hot and, while you still think her comedy would be funny as dry black and white type on a page because your own sense of humor is just that fucked up, you see how her observations might lead the blood to drain from 73% of the (general) population's face.

And then you'll wonder why people find her shocking while finding someone like Mancow to be funny. And you'll just shake your head.

__________

Did I mention this?

I'm having my birthday party tonight!


Oh, I did mention it? Sorry to repeat myself then. I'll see you tonight.

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