52 - Furr Your Review

I said it was indescribable. I don't want to try. Just come with me next time.

Having said that, I'll scribble notes in random order.

I got there about nine thirty and the place was crawling with people in their furry counter-cultural finest. To dress normally at one of these things is to feel like Church Lady at a metal concert. I wore my black leather Australian cowboy hat with a fur tail pinned onto it and my fur vest with the el-wire star and moon sewn in and the black loose-mesh muscle-t I got off some gay underwear website and was just pleased as punch I've joined up with a group at whose parties the fine young wimmins are comfortable wearing their fur bikinis.

Booze was free. The organizer's brother is a construction contractor by day and for reasons I don't know just loves working his ass off tending bar, making drinks, and giving them away. His tip jar was filled generously.

I did the fashion show by putting on this ridiculous and hopefully sexy thing I made last summer but no one I know saw me on the catwalk. Just as well.

It's easy to decry techno for being an artless and monotonous eurotrash noise but the fact is, a good blues tune or a rock song with a good bass line or whatever else it is you prefer is made for listening to, not for dancing, whereas twelve solid hours of DJ-run dance beats overlaid with various textures that don't really need a close listening to is a much more appropriate way to keep people happy.

I felt like I had a lot of friends there.

No visits from cops or fireman. This was particularly interesting given the amount and fury of the fire thrown into the sky.

I counted forty people still there at seven. We left around eight. Nice vibe at that time of day, and beer still tastes good. I think by then we were all on playa time.

Pictures by:
Playarazzi
Me