Guitarist's Best Friend

Date: Thursday, March 27.

Location: Silverlake in Los Angeles, CA

Venue: Spaceland.

Reason: to see my favorite band, the Datsuns.

Who the hell are the Datsuns? You may be asking yourself.They're only the bestest band that's ever come out of New Zealand. I first heard of them over four years ago when I was working in Texas. One night when the husband was visiting, we went to a bar called the Doublewide just outside of the infamous Deep Ellum district in downtown Dallas. In case you can't figure it out by the name alone, the bar's theme was that of a white trash double-wide trailer. The exterior featured a metal "tornado" on the roof. The interior included treasures such as plastic-covered furniture, velvet paintings, cheap Brady Bunch wood paneling on the walls, cheap beer, and the best damn jukebox EVER.

That's where we found them, those wily little Datsuns.

Their debut self-titled album was on said jukebox, and the appeal was immediate just based on song titles alone such as Harmonic Generator (one of my all-time fave songs all around) and MF from Hell. We played those two selections and were hooked.

Fast forward almost a year later, after I'd joined the Derby Dolls.

The Dolls were asked to take part in a video for the Datsuns' followup album. HELL YEAH! we replied. So in one night, a small film crew, an incredible caterer, and the Datsuns showed up to our rooftop track for a marathon 14-hour-or-thereabouts shoot for their song, Girl's Best Friend:





Didja see me?!?! I knocked the drummer off his seat in the middle of the video.

The best part about that was when the shot was set up, he didn't know that he was going to be knocked to the ground. Neither did the rest of the band. Or the rest of the crew outside of the camera dude and director. Neither did the Derby Dolls. So me and another skater, Molly Hatchett, skated around the track a couple of times and then shot off into the infield and straight for the drummer. Knocked him off, and all three of us rolled to the ground. The rest of the band turned around IN SHOCK. The Derby Dolls started cheering. The drummer popped up off the ground very angrily. The director had some 'splaining to do. But everything was smoothed over quickly and we got back to business.


It was hellishly fun...one of the best "media" exposures I've personally taken part of. The crew was friendly, the catering spectacular, and the band got a literal crash course in what roller derby, since they didn't have such activities in Kiwiland at the time. They even tried to skate:




They don't come to LA very often, so when they do, we make it a point to see them. So we braved the crapacious parking situation that is Silverlake and slammed down a Sparks to get us in the mood for the evening. The two opening bands were good, so that continued to keep our spirits up.

Then, they started their set. Here's the lead guitarist, Christian:




















There's a face somewhere under all that hair.

Didn't get very good photos of Dolf, the bassist/lead singer, or Ben, the drummer.

Then there's Phil:




















Phil's always been very approachable and is cute as a button. My favorite conversation with him was at the Rainbow Room on Sunset Blvd. in the parking lot several years ago where he kept poking me in the chest and saying that he could kick my @$$ while wearing roller skates (problem: he can't roller skate). Awwwwwww!


Hey, waitaminute, what's that on Phil's arm?!
















A tattoo?

He's not the tattoo type.

No...

What the...?!




















HA!

I got my grubby little mitts on him during the opening band's set. The conversation went something like this:

Phil(walks up to Red Diabla and gives a hug): Hi!

Red Diabla(hugs Phil back, takes out an earplug out of one ear to attempt conversing while very loud opening band is playing): HI!

Phil: How's it going?

RD: Great! Busy as f***! Can I draw on you?

Phil: What?!?!?!?!

RD: Draw on you. Can I?

Phil: Uhhhhh...

RD: (smiles evilly)

Phil: What are you gonna draw on me?

RD: Gimme something to draw on and you'll find out!

Phil: (sheepishly pushes sweater sleeve out of the way while muttering incoherently)

RD: (pulls out pile of Sharpies) Hold still!

After about five minutes of RD trying to draw in the dark, doodle is complete.

Phil: What is it?

RD: It's a devil chick!

Phil: Oh! Cool!

Husband takes pix of doodle for Phil, but neglects to take pix of doodle AND Phil. He shows Phil the doodle. Phil smiles.

Phil: I'm gonna go show everyone else now!

RD: OK!

Phil wanders off, looking a little dazed and confused, as if he'd just been tagged by Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.

After the really good show we said goodbye to Phil. The doodle got some sweat damage, but it was still readable. Phil gave a hug and a smooch on the cheek, and wandered off again.

Cute little booger.

BusyBusyBusy

Work schedule: crazy.

Derby schedule: crazy.

Art schedule: crazy.

Life schedule: crazy.

Lookit what I'm doing for the Derby Dolls right now:

Hastily Done

I haven't had time to sort through photos from last Saturday's game, but here's some stuff that's almost related to this blog.

OG Derby Doll Juana Beat'n getting tatt'd by me at the afterparty:

















Ready for her closeup:
















The finished product:
















It says, "O.G. Badass", 'cos that's what she is. And she's hot!!!



Here's Hurricaine Ken's arm:






















You can't see in the photo above where I tagged his shirt with a doodle for his Redhead. It appropriately says, "Redheads R Trouble". When he brought the shirt home and washed it, the doodle faded in the wash. The Redhead decided to not let the doodle fade further by stitching it in place:






















Isn't that a little slice o' awesome?!

Here's a great review of the game from losanjealous. DF, the dude who reviews our bouts, is a pretty cool guy. And I'm not just saying that because he thinks it's neat that I look like I eat jammers during games. Well, alright, maybe I am.

Also, the Derby Dolls are in People magazine that has JLo and her new kids on the cover. Page 22. We're gonna be in for a busy year.

Tumultuous Weekend

Heck, more of a tumultuous month.

Whatever.

My scanner's unplugged so I can't scan any doodles. Lucky for you.

Bleh.

Last week my buddy "Hurricane" Ken was visiting in LA-LA Land and he came by the ol' workplace for lunch. Hilarity quickly ensued when he brought a STACK of dvd's with him that include what he calls, The Cinematic Offenses of Humphrey Bogart. He ain't kiddin'. Go watch titles such as, Swing Your Lady and The Return of Dr. X and you'll see what Ken's talking about. Just. Staggering. Luckily he also threw in some really cool stuff like The African Queen and James Cagney's Ladykiller to cleanse the movie-watching palate.

Ken and I are easily the loudest people on the planet. Within minutes of him finding my office, we had the PA come by and tell us that she could hear us all the way across the building. Good thing we're funny, or else that would be really annoying!

We went to the main lot and wandered around and I got a quick tour of cool movie sites: "Oh LOOK! This is where James Cagney proposed to Ann Sheridan in Backstage! This is where the Dead End kids were hanging with Bogart! Here's where the Nazis were hiding in Brooklyn!!!!!!!!"

In a studio system that generally doesn't care about its movie-making past, it's cool to have friends who care about that stuff.

Back at the Ranch, we stopped by one of the story rooms to say hi to everyone, and Ken just took over. It was amazing to see the other guys just sit in slack-jawed awe of Ken's louder-than-life personality, hence my now calling him Hurricane Ken. He just takes over and slams everyone down if they're not ready! I had fun sitting back and watching.



Last night was another Derby Dolls game. Cameron Diaz, Drew Barrymore, and Ellen Page were in attendance.

My team played.

And lost.

Again.

I didn't help matters by getting kicked out of the game BEFORE HALFTIME.

How did you manage that, O genius with a "J"? you may be asking yourself.

Well, an accumulation of arms penalties and a big fat blatant knocking-the-opposing-jammer-on-her-@$ move as the end-of-the-jam whistle was blowing got me thrown outta there faster than Indian food going through a caucasian's digestive system.

The crowd LOVED it.

My team HATES me. Well, at least my captain does. Rightfully so, I suppose.

I haven't been feelin' good derby mojo the past couple of months due to the endless knee pain, and it's affected my playing a LOT. So much so, that I thought that I wasn't of much use to the team. That's not to say that I intentionally pulled enough penalties to get thrown out of the game, because that's not the case. But I did totally underestimate how much my getting kicked out would mentally affect the team. Apparently the captain had some major damage control to do during halftime. The team came back and did damn good, I thought.

I got a LOT of people coming up to me during and after the rest of the game who were all excited about my getting kicked out, my team, roller derby, etc. As much as I short-changed the team, we gots some more fans out of it, surprisingly enough. Everyone always loves a villain was the husband's response.

So I gotta refocus my efforts on the team and stop being such a jack@$. We're playing next month on April 12. Come and see if I challenge Tough Cookies' captain Iron Maiven running streak of getting kicked out of three games IN A ROW, or if I manage to get my sh!t together and play an entire game without getting into too much trouble.

You Don't Love Me

Or you find this blog hideously boring.

Who would've thunk that a post about some guy getting a tattoo of a Thalidomide-handed derby girl drawn by a drunk jerkface in Vegas wouldn't elicit a single comment?

While I ponder that, go read the latest on Beavis.

THE RUMORS WERE TRUE!

Last year at Rollercon I did a ridiculous amount of sharpie tattoos. There were drunken mumblings from some folk about getting the ink done for realz. Luckily for them, the nearest tattoo shop to Rollercon HQ, Vince Neil's place, was closed when I was really hitting my stride in the middle of the night each night I held court in the mai tai bar.

HOWEVER...

There were persistent rumors after the dust settled about someone getting one of my doodles done as a tatt. I went on MySpace and the roller derby message boards asking for confirmation, but my inbox on that particular subject was empty.

Until yesterday.

One of the girls I met at the Blood & Thunder camp gave me a link to a tattoo artist's website in the midwest, and lo and behold, this is what I found:
























HOLY FREAKIN' CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's a natural first reaction, right?

Two reasons for the reaction:

1) it's always mind-blowing when someone gets one's artwork permanently tattoo'd on their person.

2)just how drunk was I at the time when that drawing was scribbled on his person? I'm never that good at drawing hands when I'm at the top of my game, but jeeeezus, look at those thalidomide paws she has!

Whoa.

This year I need to spend some real time drawing hands. And backs. And, uh, everything.

Blood and Thunder pix

Here's a small sampling of photos taken at the Blood & Thunder boot camp in San Diego.


Me tagging AZRD's Ivanna S. Pankin:
















Duke City's(Albuquerque)Miss E. Vil and...uh...someone else with matching boob jobs:

















Me with Miss Fortune in my lap. She has a chest doodle, you just can't see it. This photo cracks me up because of the uncharacteristic smile on my mug:
















Miss E Vil's drawing-in-progress with Angel City's Estrojen conversating:

















I'm in total work and derby overload right now. It's good and bad at the same time, but overall I'm not having too much fun with any of it. Sigh.