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3, 2,1... Karma Sutra

Last night I was invited to a free show by The Polyphonic Spree. I wasn’t personally invited by the band, but by a friend of a friend.

The catch was that they’d be performing on the Jimmy Kimmel Show. I had to watch that idiotic High Five White Boy try to be funny until the band’s set.. Since The Polyphonic Spree has something like 24 members, they had to play on an outdoor stage, so I spent about an hour and half standing around, looking at people, and marvelling at how much money is being spent on such a lousy hour of television.

The Polyphonic Spree rocked. They are so fucking amazing, they truly have to be seen to be believed. Musical, energetic, charismatic... each of the 24 members was going off, dancing and shimmying, singing and jumping up and down. It’s no wonder the audience (myself included) was able to “make some noise” as one of the PA’s instructed us to do. I went to bed as soon as I got home so I have no idea if my ridiculous ear-to-ear grin was broadcast on national television.

Went to bed as soon as I got home, only to be awakened at 2 am by my downstairs neighbor having rollicking, bed-frame creaking, man-and-woman panting, genitals slapping, are they on hands and knees? s-e-x. They would go at it like rabbits for a spell, then break. Then resume. Then break. I have to hand it to them; they kept at it for over an hour, and frankly after a while, I got pissed off.

It’s funny to feel personally affronted by someone else’s sex life. I mean, if anyone’s going to get pounded in this building, then it had better be ME. I can’t stand the fact that someone nearby is having more frequent and more breathless, heart-racing sex than myself. I’ve decided that the gauntlet’s been thrown down, and I cannot let someone else be victorious. My period just ended and I am gearing up for the battle of the century.

Let the games begin.

8:23 a.m. - 2003-04-30



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