badinia, Author at Virginia Jones ⋆ Page 53 of 63

PIZZAZZ, where is thy STING?

I had the most fun ever last night not winning anything (except the hearts of the audience) in the sold-out Mercury Pizzazz talent show, thank you so much for attending if you were in attendance. Here is some behind-the-scenes gossip:

1. After the first act, the stagehands were walkie-talking each other about the vast amounts of unicorn blood that had to be mopped up.

2. One of CJ’s dolls was a replacement from that very week, speaking to the hard work and talent involved!

3. The question that everyone has about Diamond Motion’s Madison is answered by the phrase: stuffing and wig tape.

4. White Stripes and Arcade Fire be damned, the music that rocks Portland is by Miss Bonnie Tyler, whose Total Eclipse of the Heart and Holding Out For A Hero opened and closed the show, respectively.

5. The song I used in my tap routine is the subtle and hilarious Hell, by Angel Corpus Christi.

Congratulations to acrobatic masters KAZUM for their second-place winnings of $500 and a pile of street cred! It was an amazing moment when the #1 spot was given to a breakdancing act, because of the rush of hot air BOOOs flowing over the stage. (This is where I met my friend Jesse Fowler, who still loves burning man but has stopped being an acrobat and has started being a vintage bakelite specialist!)

Although we did not get to watch the show in the green room, as I understand it, this broken and bloody apocalyptic unicorn was a ROBBED, being the crowd favorite who didn’t win:

A sad story, indeed!

I’ve Got Pizzazz!

I got the shoulder tap today confirming that I will be competing in PIZZAZZ, the Portland Mercury Talent Show, on Friday, October 26th at the Wonder Ballroom. I know that a fire dancer/stripper/bike activist will win, so I am free to relax and have fun with it. I think what swung them on my entry was the fact that while Jerry Lewis used to incorporate tap dance and comedy, no-one has ever done both in a dolly outfit.

I have been slyly advised that people with cheering sections sway judging. If only I had one of those…see results here!

Opi8

Although it is a couple of years old, I think this rendering of myself and my spouse at the center of the party in the pages of a sequence of Adam White’s Opi8 is worth sharing. I am depicted as my own midgetized version, but the dancing and haircut are spot on. Spouse is the tall fellow who looks like himself. Also pictured are author Tait B. on the left-hand side of the bottom panel, New York’s Billy K on the right at top, and the gentleman on the far left is Damian Ramsay, who left us last April but would have been 29 on October 28th.

Party at Ground Zero!

I don’t know how many of my readers are from Medford, Oregon, but I’m headed out for what promises to be a stupendous road gig with headliner Keith Wallan tomorrow night, Friday, October 5th, at club Ground Zero!

Keith Wallan works in wordplay, observational humor and cussing. He’s the last bastion of sanity in a world gone insane.

Virginia Jones has never been to Medford. She’s funnier than Bill Hicks, John Belushi, and Gilda Radner put together. In fact, she’s funnier than all dead people./divdivThey are both left-handed Capricorns and they’re the same height. This is a love note to everyone in Jackson County- come out and see us tomorrow!/divdivGround Zero*123 S Front St* Medford, OR*(541) 779-4827

Postscript: I am distressed at Ground Zero’s lack of web presence, but I found a clipping from the MailTribune for this night, and it really says it all!

“Comedians Keith Wallen(sic) and Virginia Jones will perform at 9 p.m. Friday, Oct. 5, at Ground Zero, 123 S. Front St. Admission to the show costs $5 and includes a buffet-style dinner.”

This was my first road gig ever, and it went so badly that I opened on a story about it for approximately 9 years.

The Bitter Tears of The Eternal Poseur

On the thirtieth anniversary of the first punk record that I heard, the Sex Pistol’s Never Mind The Bollocks, I find myself helplessly drifting off into nostalgic reverie, as the aged will sometimes do. When I was a teenager, I was 12 years too late for punk. Punk was dead and in a coffin in the King’s Road. But I had a haircut and some homemade t-shirts and I remember thinking: “It’ll be great, man, when everyone’s a PUNK and you go to the bank and the teller is a PUNK and the waitress at the restaurant is a PUNK and the COP is a PUNK and PUNKITY PUNK PUNK PUNK, and we will TAKE OVER.” And now, at last, my dreams have come true.

Everyone from movie stars to graduate students wears black, smeary eyeliner and has tattoos and a really nice guy at work is a 24 year old Cornell alum with a two-tone faux hawk. And it’s terrible. Really, really bad. When I spent my free time getting superfluous facial piercings and listening to questionable music, I felt part of a small, surly culture, but because these pursuits only involved a small cash outlay and willingness to risk infection, they eventually filtered down to the general population. The first time I saw an eyebrow ring/baseball hat combination, I knew it was no longer a mark of my people.

All I’m saying is: bike messengers, death metal kids, transvestites, animal activists, militants of all stripes and outcasts of all denominations: don’t be surprised when one day, people you have nothing in common with look just like you. I found it painful, and I hope you’ll steel yourself from that same disappointment.

Ground Control to Major Dog…

Today, Hazel, my French Bulldog, had to have a thorn removed from her paw, just like Aesop’s fable, except that instead of a lion, it’s a dog who looks like a bat and sounds like a pig, and instead of a mouse, it’s a vet, and instead of exchanging favor for favor, he charged us $700. And now I have a Space Dog, because she can’t stop licking her foot. I think my dog is like a person in many respects, but if you had a hurt foot, your solution would never be: lick all the hair off, and when it’s red, swollen, and irritated, keep licking. Never stop licking. Maybe there’s a lesson we can learn here after all, about where persistence gets you- in a space dog collar.

How To Be A Scintillating Conversationalist

In this age of text messages and Myspace comments, in the sea of LOL’s and WTF’s, sometimes it’s hard to connect to real-life people. Sometimes it can be dispiriting to open a full inbox to find one solitary message from a friend, and sixty-eight offers for a bigger penis. Trying to solve the problem, I first went to 19th century social etiquette manuals, but found that I did not have enough different teaspoons to get anything going.

Please allow me to share with you some observations designed to help you muddle along in your day-to-day conversations, without aid of animated smiley faces and clips of pornography.

1. Don’t talk about being sick, or bad things.
2. Don’t talk about babies. Unless the person you’re talking to has one, and then you should only talk about their baby. Even a baby one baby removed from their baby, such as a baby friend of their baby, is dull as dingo’s kidneys to them. Their baby is the interesting one.
3. For sure, don’t talk about sick babies. That’s sad.
4. In general, don’t talk about bad news unless it’s about someone you both know, or a celebrity. This is called gossip, and it’s very popular. There are articles that will tell you not to do this, but how can something that feels so good be wrong?
5. Only talk about fun and exciting things going on in your life- awesome trips you’re taking, celebrities you’re sleeping with, and reality shows you’re going to be on.
6. If none of the above are happening, just go ahead and lie. For the most part, other people won’t remember and call you on lies you’ve told, because they weren’t listening. Besides, there are so many reality shows, and they are so ridiculous, nothing you can make up will be beyond the pale. If you say you’re on a show where C.C. Deville is trying to learn to cook, who’s going to question that?
7. Mostly, the other person is thinking about the same thing as you are: how fat you’re getting.
8. A word on negativity: I know that it’s cool and “hep” to talk about how much everything sucks, but look around you: between global warming, the war in Iraq, and Britney’s botched comeback performance, do you really feel that the state of reality is so great that you need to downplay it, or the light and brilliance of the world as it is will blind us? I didn’t think so.