Category Archives: Lush Life

Shebeen Club: Gonzo Vancouver

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The Shebeen Club: Gonzo Vancouver!

When: 7-9pm, Tuesday, April 15th, 2008

Where: the Shebeen, 7 Gaoler’s Mews, behind the Irish Heather, 217 Carrall Street, Vancouver BC

How Much: $15 includes dinner: limited to 40

What: mingling, door prizes, eating, drinking, fornicating!

Who: Heather Watson (Civixen), Gonzo Journalist and founding columnist at Terminal City

“We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-coloured uppers, downers, screamers, laughers and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether and two dozen amyls.”
Hunter S. Thompson

Well, we probably won’t have that, but we will have a great introduction to indigenous Vancouver Gonzo journalism with the hyperkinetic and internationally infamous Heather Watson, alias Civixen (http://www.civixen.com/ and http://cvxn.tumblr.com). Coming at you straight down the Mojo Wire at 95 miles per hour, it’ll be an evening of raw, uncut literary power. Bare-knuckling her way up the ladder from the wide open frontier of the Wild West to the mean streets of Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, Heather has seen it all, done most of it, and has a damn hell solid alibi for everything else.

Bio: Heather Watson created the satirical op/ed column “Civixen,” which became a source of enjoyment and irritation for political bright lights and dim bulbs alike (including the current mayor) in the four years it ran in two local alternative newspapers. Besides a brief tenure as editor-in-chief of the 30,000-circulation Gonzo-inspired Terminal City (now sadly defunct), Heather Watson also presented a popular seminar on Gonzo Journalism at the request of the Western arm of the Canadian University Press in 2006. She is a published poet, a produced playwright and her essay “Vancouver Today” is featured in the Time Out Guide to Vancouver. In addition to a few years at Vancouver’s éminence grise of independent bookstores, Duthie Books, some of her more surreal side jobs have included voice-over and motion capture for a video game and six years spent hand modeling toys from Star Wars figures to Barbies in dozens of TV commercials.

Meet and Mingle 7-7:30
Listen and Learn 7:30-8
Drown Sorrows and Vow to Buck the System 8-9 or, really, the rest of your life.

A Time for Atene

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Yes, he’s back. Brian Atene, everybody’s favorite YouTube Celebrity (what, you prefer Chris Crocker?) is back with more from the Dark Side.

“I’m just an analogue guy in a digital world.”

Fresca!

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on Marathons and Personal Dignity

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London Marathon Dalek. Good thing there aren't any stairs!

Not that we know all that much about either. But we have recently started running again (well, run/walking) and we are verily all fired up about it as we have made a deal with God that every time our computer crashes we will do something useful while waiting for it to come back up, whether that is laundry, washing dishes, straightening up the living room, or going for a workout.

And yea, verily, we hates the housework we does.

And so. So to the quote o’ the day, in which our protagonist (far too whingey and self-absorbed to be a hero) learns at least one of the many lessons that a Marathon can teach one.

From the Guardian:

Surrounded by very short young women, whose legs must have been half the length of mine, I told myself I was pathetic if I couldn’t keep up with them. Thompson is not impressed. “If you are then passed by the short-legged women that might be soul destroying,” he cautions…

“When you get overtaken by six vikings carrying their own boat it does take you down a peg or two,” says Loosemoore. “You’ve got to prepare yourself for that before the marathon. The real battle is against yourself. You are going to be overtaken. There will be extremely good marathon runners in rhinoceros costumes. Try not to be distracted by that.”

Maybe you had to be there, but I found it funny.

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Quentin Crisps

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Sometimes the volleys of blogger tennis get a little heated, resulting in a strange and hitherto only mythical phenomenon. Like Ourouboros swallowing his own tail, a fleeting tangent on the Mummified Fairy post has spawned its own spinoff on FFE‘s blog, to which I’m linking back here. Now all someone needs to do is post in the mummified fairy post linking back to this and all will come full circle and the universe will end.

Presenting the original mummified fairy: Quentin Crisps

Quentin Crisps

Sure, great in the can but pretty sharp anywhere else, come to think of it.

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Peep Show

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I don’t like Peeps. They remind me of those noxious, spongy banana candies that taste like the dandruff on Satan’s shoulders, only with artificial banana flavouring, corn syrup solids, and yellow dye #42. When I say I don’t like Peeps, I mean I actually and actively despise them. And I have never let one near my mouth.

But that could all change if only I could find these:

Cthulhu Peeps!

Do you know where Peeps come from?

Peepco factory, yo

And do you know how Peeps end up? As with the characters in a Bruce Springsteen song or any other entity whose marketability depends on freshness and whose freshness the very processes of marketing degrade, they first detour into “art films”:

Peeps in film. Or is that fillum?

And this is where they end up:

Peep Show

Or, even more pathetically:

Shoutout to my Peeps

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