Roky Erickson’s 60th Birthday Party

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JULY 10, 2007

People are like puppies: Eventually they stop being young and cute and get old and cranky. At some point you just want to drive them out to a nice place in the country, open the door, and yell, “Look, a rabbit!” Of course, with old people you might have better luck saying something like, “Look, a Luby’s!” or “Hey, is that Wilford Brimley and Angela Lansbury making out behind that tree?” Still, they might fall for the rabbit thing, too, depending on the potency of their meds. If a trip to the country seems a little costly, you might try dropping them off at Whole Foods or Central Market, where old people seem to be able to occupy themselves for days at a time, clogging the aisles with nearly empty shopping carts while loitering around the sample tables. Apparently in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, each new schmear of herbed goat cheese on a cracker tastes deliciously different, even after repeated samplings. Or, it could be that Whole Foods and Central Market are gastronomical gauntlets to the afterlife. Perhaps plowing through a smorgasbord of sample-sized snob cuisine is a one-way ticket to Heaven, or maybe it just tastes like it. Here’s the thing: Old people aren’t going anywhere soon. Yes, they make jokes about not buying green bananas or spending money on their teeth, but with advances in nutrition and medical science, it’s very likely that most old people will be around until you’re old, too. With enough Viagra and Retin A, 80 might be the new 40. There are surely benefits to that, but if you’re planning on surfing DIY porn sites in the future, you’re going to want to invest in some therapy. So, tossing aside “final solution” fantasies like Logan’s Run and Soylent Green, what are we going to do with all those extra old people? Put them back to work? Maybe, but how many Wal-Mart greeters can the world take? Imagine a spindly wall of glad-handing, blue-vested cotton tops blocking your way to the $1.99 Faded Glory sleeveless T-shirts? Time to do a little Billy Jack-style euthanasia. No, the true value of the aged is their wisdom and experience. Old people know a lot and have had a lot of practice. These traits, which are particularly annoying in young people, are what make old people tolerable, even likable. It’s unlikely that an old person is going to take your job or shag your significant other – they’re too tired – and even if they do, you have to admit they have serious, Clint Eastwood caliber game. The old can, however, be highly entertaining and informative, often at the same time, sometimes on purpose. If you need an example of this phenomenon, buy some tickets to Roky Erickson’s 60th Birthday Party at the Paramount Theatre this Friday. Erickson is crazy with wisdom and experience. The leader of the Sixties psych-rock band 13th Floor Elevators, Erickson took the whole ride: fame, drugs, insanity, and redemption. Recently, he’s been rocking harder than ever. Who knows? Maybe 60 is the new 20. Regardless, $36 gets to admission and a copy of the soundtrack to You’re Gonna Miss Me, the 2005 film documenting Erickson’s rise and fall.

Freestyle Jump Contest for Barton Springs

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JULY 2, 2007

Barton Springs is without a doubt one of Austin’s most beloved and memorable landmarks; Beloved because for centuries it has been the coolest place in Austin (in recent years just barely edging out places like Emo’s and Kenichi); and memorable for anyone who has ever been in the public, open-air showers at Barton Springs and seen the shriveled twigs and berries of some dangerously over-tanned, assless nonagenarian. Before you get too cocky about your own package you may want to take a flying leap into the Springs yourself and see if you don’t come up screaming like a schoolgirl and rocking an equivalent amount of Johnson. Barton Springs doesn’t just cause shrinkage, it causes your boys to flee deep into some warm cranny of your ribcage where they’ll secretly devise an exit strategy that involves Bikram Yoga and a blowtorch. Similarly, if you’re one of those women who have been blessed with large, sensuous nipples, you would do well to lash them down with some Kevlar patches and 100 mph tape before entering BS for the first time. Otherwise, you might end up with bullet holes in your bikini. Barton Springs is only cool on the outside – say on a towel on the hillside in the shade. The pool itself however, is MF’n cold. It’s the kind of water where the people who’ve already made the plunge say (through chattering teeth and blue lips), “It’s fine once you get used to it,” which is the same thing the people in hell would say were you to cautiously peer in and ask if it’s as hot as it looks down there. Misery loves company. Never trust the miserable. People who stay in the water at Barton Springs for more than a few minutes are either A) dead, B) training for a swim across the British Channel, or C) wearing the wrong swimwear and too embarrassed to get out. Remember the bullet holes? You might also want to think twice about that bright yellow Speedo slingshot that fits like a sausage casing at the tanning salon. Something dark and baggy should do just fine. Whatever you wear, you will want to enter the water quickly – almost as fast as the speed at which you exit it. That slow, inch-at-a-time acclimation process doesn’t really get it at Barton Springs unless you’re willing to spend an equal amount of time belting out Mozart’s Popoli di Tessaglia. The best way to get into Barton Springs is off the diving board – ideally with the kind of high, graceful acrobatic maneuver you would like to precede a sudden heart attack. If you want some good examples of how to do that, set your alarm clock early for this Saturday when Independence Brewing Co. hosts the second annual Freestyle Jump Contest for Barton Springs. Jumpers from Austin and beyond will compete for the right to have a photograph of their best jump featured on the label of Independence’s Freestyle Wheat Beer. Registration is $25 and runs from 7-8:15am. The contest begins at 8:30am. Jumps will be judged on “showmanship and freestyle-inspired creativity.” If you plan on competing, try not to shriek until you’re under the water, and don’t worry about keeping your swimsuit clean. Nothing’s coming out of that pucker.

Karaoke Apocalypse

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JUNE 26, 2007

Singers get all the strange. It’s the truth. Look it up. Wikipedia that shit. Yes, there are some exceptions: Eddie van Halen; Tommy Lee; Peter Criss; pretty much any nonsinging member of Blues Traveler, Metallica, or Motörhead, but for the most part, if you rock the mic, chances are you’ll be rocking someone’s world after the show. As a matter of fact, it’s a safe bet that even John Popper, James Hetfield, and Lemmy Kilmister score a disproportionate amount of wool, which is no small miracle considering Popper looks like he sells used cars on Hee Haw, Hetfield’s face has apparently been worked over with a meat tenderizer mallet, and Lemmy is the spawn of some unholy clusterfuck involving the Crypt Keeper, Al Swearengen from Deadwood, the Wicked Witch of the West, and Blaine Cartwright from Nashville Pussy – and that’s being generous. Lemmy by his own account has shagged more than 2000 women, so it’s very likely he doesn’t just look diseased, he actually is. But even if he’s only bagged half that number looking the way he does, it’s a remarkable feat – equivalent to say, Stephen Hawking bringing home Olympic gold in the high jump. The singer mojo isn’t just a man thing either. Think of all the chick singers who have become famous simply because of their T&A – that’s right, talent and ability. Janis Joplin? Chrissie Hynde? Joan Jett? Björk? Courtney Love? OK, so maybe Courtney’s T&A is her T&A, but you have to admit she wouldn’t be seeing nearly as much timber if it weren’t for her Hole performance. Just imagine what Courtney’s love life would be like if she were working the mic at the Jack in the Box drive through. Very likely it would involve hamburger grease and a mop handle. Of course, sex appeal isn’t the exclusive property of singers, they just have a big piece the market. You can certainly work your financial-analyst mack or your systems-integration-engineer seduction techniques (you might also want to familiarize yourself with how to inflate a blow-up doll), but if you really want a technique that makes the underwear hit the floor, singing – even bad singing – is a better bet than most. If you’re not convinced, head down to the Hole in the Wall this Friday for Karaoke Apocalypse. Yes, it’s karaoke, which is pretty much the demolition derby of singing, but the difference with Karaoke Apocalypse is that you get to sing with a live band. In this case, the Dead Motley Sex Maidens, a crack crew of veteran Austin musicians with an extensive repertoire of pre-Nineties hard rock, punk, metal, and new wave and an obviously masochistic bent. Think about it: All the glamour and glory of rock stardom without the long rehearsals, heavy lifting, ego-tripping, and band-van beer farts. Time to drag out those tiger striped spandex leggings, visit the cucumber stand at the farmers market, and practice your Gene Simmons devil horns tongue flick. It’s time to rock. Hard.

FanFare Friday

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JUNE 18, 2007

Skip work Friday. You deserve it. Really. And besides, what if a giant asteroid slams into the Earth during rush hour on Friday and obliterates everything? On the plus side, the war on terror would effectively be won, but on the minus side you just pissed away the last few hours of your existence in a soul-sucking “team strategy” meeting fantasizing about calling 911 and telling the operator you think you may be dead because time is moving really, really, really slowly. Here’s a tip: Next time you’re in an office meeting suggest to everyone that they should tape it and put it up on YouTube. Follow that statement up by holding your hand in the air like you’re about to get a round of high fives. Don’t worry; recognition of true genius is often preceded by long periods of awkward silence. Don’t think it through too much. The inevitable outcome of too much thought is inaction – usually well-justified inaction. For instance, if you put the team strategy meeting up on YouTube you’ll be Karmically fucking yourself because you will inadvertently be putting undue stress on the suicide-hotline people. Their jobs are tough enough as it is, right? Similarly, you don’t want to overthink ditching work. Sure, there is probably some byzantine logarithmic formula by which the wheels of commerce will grind to a halt because of your absence, but the law of averages dictates that the real consequence of your ditch will be that someone gets an extra stale doughnut – and you will have made their day. Now there’s an inspirational poster to hang in the conference room: “Capricious Irresponsibility: Pass it on.” Own that shit. You only have what? 40? 60? 80 good years left? Maybe a buck fifty if scientists get off their asses and figure out how to rig you up a new chassis out of stem cells. Point is, carpe the friggin’ diem. See what it’s like to be one of the nonworking stiffs they’re building all those Downtown high-rise condos for. Roll out of bed late, put on some crocs, jammies, and a wife beater; and head on over to Threadgill’s for KGSR’s FanFare Friday. Starting at the uncharitably early hour of 8am, KGSR will be hosting a full day of high caliber musical entertainment that will benefit Family Eldercare’s annual Summer Fan Drive. The talent train is long and goes something like this: Bobby Whitlock & CoCo Carmel, Seth Walker, Billy Harvey, Guy Forsyth, Ruthie Foster, South Austin Jug Band, Dale Watson, Ray Wylie Hubbard, a special surprise guest, Charlie Sexton, and Elana James & Hot Club of Cowtown. Plus, each $12 donation buys a new fan for a low-income elderly or disabled person and (as if doing good isn’t good enough) enters you in a drawing for a $6,000 high efficiency air and heat system. Seeing that you’ve skipped work, if you win you may want to throw that into the Eldercare kitty too, just to yin your yang.

Keep Austin Weird Festival

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JUNE 12, 2007

Remember how jacked you were when you could finally buy authentic Seattle grungewear in the Dillards casuals section? You ran over to the mall and picked up a “distressed” flannel vest with t-shirt sleeves sewn into it so it looked like you were layering to fend off the dank, cold, cloudy Austin weather. Good choice. Perfect for watching the salmon fight their way up the icy Colorado to spawn. Now you probably feel just a little bit guilty that you might have been part of the reason St. Kurt chose to martyr himself with a scattergun. Then again, maybe the whole grunge thing missed you entirely. You might have been into old-school punk like the Sex Pistols, the Ramones, and the Misfits – bands whose t-shirts can most easily be found at Hot Topic, the best place to pick up band merch for bands who never had band merch. You have to give them credit, at least Hot Topic figured out how to identify and merchandise a punk “look.” Unlike the unbranded punks of yesteryear, Hot Topic execs aren’t hamstrung by some half-cocked, anti-consumerist, nihilist ideology. They understand that when it comes to rebellion and belligerent individualism, most people like a well-defined road map – ideally one that leads to prime retail space at the local shopping mall. Hot Topic isn’t sweating whether or not they’re perceived as authentic. With $13.6 million in net profits last year, they don’t have to prove their authenticity to anyone (least of all their shareholders). Hot Topic has clearly tapped that punk ass. Not surprisingly, the benefits of appropriation marketing haven’t been lost on the Austin business community. Awhile back local businesses caught on to the fact that Austinites were loosely opposed to the corporate homogenization that turns unique communities into generic, big-box developments. Someone (quite ingeniously) coughed up the phrase “Keep Austin Weird” as an opposition rallying cry. Yes, Austin is weird, but it’s more of a case of contrast. Weirder that what? Plano? Regardless of how you feel about the phrase, “Keep Austin Weird” has already moved a lot of beefy tees, and if businesses decide to use a catchy slogan to vitalize the local economy and celebrate Austin’s unique character, where’s the harm in that? Why not get on the bandwagon this weekend at Republic Square Park, when AT&T and HEB along with a variety of local businesses bring you the Keep Austin Weird Festival, a 5K fun run, costume contest, and concert that benefits the RunTex Foundation. Here’s your chance to do the grunt work of weirdness: Run around dressed up like a weirdo, eat, drink, and watch a great lineup of bands: The Steps, Patricia Vonne, South Austin Jug Band, Alejandro Escovedo, Soulhat, and Bob Schneider.

The Miracle Bash

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JUNE 4, 2007

It’s probably safe to say that since you’re trolling these pages you’ve given up on the idea of becoming a priest or a nun. You don’t need a personal ad to marry Jesus. Even still, there could be occasions when you wake up on the floor of your hotel room with coke crust on your nostrils, your underwear around your ankles, and a goat bleating in the bathroom and wonder if maybe your life lacks purpose and meaning. Heaven knows goodness isn’t for everyone, but it would be nice to think that every once in a while the roulette ball of your life bounces into the charity slot, if only to pile up some karmic chits to balance out any future hedonistic pursuits (of course, in that mindset, Mother Teresa must have been planning some sort of superorgy). Like most people, you probably want to do good, you just don’t want to do what it takes to do good – sort of in the same way you’d like to be an astronaut but don’t really want to have to take all those math courses. Plus, what if you’re not good enough? What if you take all that math and still end up as an earthbound NASA desk jockey with a ranch house in Clear Lake? F that S. Makes you not even want to try. Still, you have to allow for the possibility that there are some people for whom goodness is its own reward, a special, mutant breed of masochist who gets off on helping others, people who are actually good for goodness’ sake. If these people exist at all, they are exceedingly rare. They are the Michael Jordans and Peyton Mannings of altruism, perhaps born with some genetic glitch that allows them to subvert their id on a molecular level. Unlike Michael and Peyton however, they’re doing it when no one is looking. Thank goodness. They sure do take the heat off the rest of us. They also set the bar unimaginably high. You don’t need that kind of pressure. Chances are you’ll never be a Mother Teresa. You might have occasional moments of selflessness. You might buy the bar a round or toss a couple of quails in the collection plate, but when it comes time to change bedpans for ebola victims, you suddenly have to wash your hair. Besides, won’t it be funny if you get into heaven anyway? If so, feel free to tell Mother Teresa what a chump she was. Wait’ll you see the look on her face when she finds out all you did to get in the pearly gates was to buy a massage wand at a charity auction. Burn! Mind you, there’s no shame in getting some while you’re giving some. By definition charity is never quid pro quo, but very often there is an intangible return on your investment. Ask Caroline Boudreaux. She was blowing a media merger windfall on a trip around the world when she ran smack dab into her life’s calling: helping orphans in India. In less than seven years the organization she started, The Miracle Foundation, has built three orphanages in India and helped hundreds of Indian children receive decent food, health care, and education. That’s a lot of hard work when she could have been washing her hair, but Caroline’s the first to admit she gets a lot of payback. This weekend Sky Lounge on Congress is hosting “The Miracle Bash,” a dance party and Miracle Foundation benefit featuring DJ Archit and DJ Sharma’s Karma. Get your groove on to some Bollywood, hip-hop, bhangra, and dance music and build up some karmic chits for your next hedonistic endeavor.

Republic of Texas Rally

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MAY 29, 2007

There are so many ways to kill yourself: Warm bath, razor blade; big baggie of barbiturates; exhaust rerouted through the car window; DIY hanging; high rise swan dive; shotgun blowjob (a celebrity favorite: Hemingway, Cobain). Yes, there are plenty of stylish and inventive ways to do yourself in, but if you want to go with something daring and spectacular, albeit with a slightly less predictable outcome, buy a motorcycle. Motorcycles are and ever have been … cool – sort of like smoking cigarettes. Combine the two and your coolness goes into warp drive. Feel free to throw in a few tattoos and maybe some leather pants and a leather jacket. Life is short and yours, statistically, will be even shorter. Might as well leave a beautiful corpse. (By the way, if you can afford it, go with Kevlar. Leather staves off some of the road rash, but your undertaker and next of kin will really appreciate the fact that you popped for the Kevlar.) You might want to spend a little extra on your bike as well. While it’s true that pretty much any motorized two-wheeler is cool, generally the bigger the better. Harleys are among the most massive. They’re also known as “hogs,” not because their parts are made of pig iron or as an allusion to the girth of their riders, but rather because during the 1920s a very successful motorcycle racing team in the South named the “Hog Boys” used to take a pig for a victory lap on the back of their winning Harley. Of course, that was back in the days when Harleys actually won races. These days, Harleys are the Clydesdales of the motorcycle world. Just about any lightweight Japanese crotch rocket can outrun a Harley in the quarter, but if you’re looking for a big, obnoxiously loud, anachronism of engineering that will wake up the neighbors and impress tube-top wearing high-school dropouts, you’re safer on a hog. Honda also makes some pretty big bikes. There’s the Goldwing, a favorite of retirees and pragmatists that is the two-wheeled equivalent of a Winnebago. You can fit two people comfortably on a Goldwing, but neither will probably be comfortable with the term, “Biker Bitch.” There’s also the Honda Valkyrie, which is a Harley knockoff of sorts. It’s also the most honestly named motorcycle on the market, borrowing its title from the Norse goddesses who carry souls into the afterlife – proof positive that the Japanese are not without a sense of irony. What next? Maybe the Honda Sumo? Of course big bikes come with big price tags, but you don’t necessarily need a big bike to speed your way to Valhalla. Plenty of people have met their maker on mopeds and electric scooters … and their maker wasn’t surprised at all. If you’re going to be price-conscious, leave the helmet at home and invest in a nice, colorful silk scarf. It will flap around like crazy even at low speeds and serve as an ineffective tourniquet when your leg gets lopped off by a drunk in a pickup. Really, the safest way to enjoy motorcycles is vicariously, and this weekend is the perfect opportunity to do just that when the Republic of Texas Motorcycle Rally rumbles into Austin. Friday night sometime after 7:30pm, a parade of some 60,000 bikes will sputter and fart their way from the Travis County Expo Center and to Congress Avenue. Following the parade will be two stages with live music and scantily clad women. Scheduled acts include Podunk, Butcherwhite, Patricia Vonne, the Meat Puppets, and Patrice Pike as well as performances by Big Star and Sideshow Burlesque and the girls from Coyote Ugly. After taking it all in you may still want to draw a warm bath, but for different reasons.

Emissions From the Monolith 9

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MAY 21, 2007

The weather has been suspiciously nice so far this year. Makes you wonder if part of the arctic ice shelf calved off and is bobbing around somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. Austin is many things in the month of May, but very rarely is it ever pleasant. Regardless of the size of your rent check, this isn’t Maui or even San Diego. Then again, maybe real estate prices have gotten so high the weather just decided to follow suit. Maybe all of those unfinished $500,000 condos Downtown are creating a “urban cool island” effect, dragging temperatures down in relation to the rise in trendy real estate offerings. It’s an unlikely and unscientific scenario to say the least, but with this kind of anomaly all bets are off. Wouldn’t it be great if we could actually pin it down? If we knew for a fact that this recent run of beautiful weather was the direct cause of, say, global warming? Would we all run out and buy Hummers? Spray our hair into huge pompadours and beehives? Leave the lights on all night? Fart incessantly? It might be worth it. So what if a few polar bears (fewer every year) and Emperor Penguins have to spend some extra pool time so we can enjoy some extra porch time? Seems like a fair enough trade. Both species look like they could lose a little weight anyway, and with the glaciers melting and the water getting warmer, they’re going to need to be in fighting trim – sort of like Al Gore in the 2000 election before he got cheated and decided to become an emissary of doom, which apparently demands queuing up at the same buffet line as the Emperor Penguins. Still, regardless of how ominous Al-mageddon’s pie charts and bar graphs look, things around here are considerably improved. Are we better off now than we were eight years ago? Climatologically, hells yes! The Lord surely works in mysterious ways, otherwise we would know what the fuck happened to all the bees. Maybe we should just roll with it and see where it goes. Of course, you might be one of those people who can’t take too much pleasantness and this shit is about to drive you crazy. Don’t worry, Emo’s has your back. This Thursday through Sunday they’re hosting Emissions From the Monolith 9, a music festival that just moved to town from Youngstown, Ohio (maybe it was cooler here?). EFTM9 should pack Emo’s dark hole with deafening, frog-throated heavy music from bands like Super Heavy Goat Ass, Alabama Thunderpussy, Dixie Witch, and Throttlerod as well as sweaty, fist-pumping tattooed fans. If you can survive four days with the volume knobs pegged on 11, this is your scene. If not, it’s really nice outside.

Benefit for Peter Stopschinski

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MAY 15, 2007

Yes, the world is a beautiful place, but the next time you’re standing dumbstruck, misting up over the pulchritude of that polyethylene shopping bag that’s dancing around in the whirlwind in the corner of the parking lot, give at least a little credence to the idea that someone in the bar might have slipped you a roofie and is about to donkey punch you and steal your wallet. Yeah, that’s the world you’re living in too: a cruel, heartless, dog-eat-dog death match where the ruthless and evil prey on the compassionate and good. Sometimes it’s easy to confuse the two. Sometimes you can be lulled into thinking that being good is good enough, that your evident virtues will protect you from evil and you’ll live out your days in peace and happiness. Wrong. If it didn’t even work for Jesus, why would it work for you? Jesus had God on his side (at least if you buy into the Christian side of the story) and what did it get him? A horrifying, tortuous gauntlet of pain and suffering followed by a slow, agonizing death. Sweet payoff. Is it any wonder the early Christians felt the need to sell resurrection as the sizzle on their burned Jesus steak? Talk about a tough close. There’s a story that needed a Hollywood ending. Can you blame them? Imagine if they’d only offered a couple of months at a timeshare on the Sea of Galilee? Jesus who? Seriously, if you’re going to lean over the plate and take a pitch like for the team, you’d at least like to come home with a win. Sure, it’s a noble endeavor to walk in the path of righteousness, but there is a fine line between “nice guy” and “chump,” and eventually, like Jesus, you’re going to make friends with someone’s enemy and they’re going to nail you to a cross and leave you to die. Yes, people are basically good, but they’re also pretty fucking evil too. They’re murderers and rapists and pedophiles and burglars and swindlers and well-meaning frat boys from Yale who believe they’re doing the right thing. How do they get there? How does someone end up in the right frame of mind to cheat, lie, steal, rape, or kill? Is it because they weren’t held enough as a baby? Not enough lithium in their diet? Lack of intelligence? A chemical imbalance? Video games? Too much coffee? There are no easy answers. The best you can hope for is to try to live a full life without cowering from the unexpected donkey punch – much like Austin musician and composer Peter Stopschinski, who is currently recovering from severe facial injuries suffered while walking to his car from Sixth Street on March 17. Stopschinski had stopped to assist a woman who was having trouble standing up and was jumped from behind and beaten repeatedly in the face. Although Stopschinski was insured, his treatment was not completely covered. This Saturday the Scoot Inn is hosting a benefit to help defray his medical expenses. The show starts at 5pm and features D.J. Lyman, Teddy and Marge, Captain Smoothe, the Invincible Czars, Grimey Styles, Duke, Pong, Delicious Food, Lick Lick, and Cat Scientist. Five dollars lets you walk in the path of righteousness – even if you’re packed in like a sardine.

Grace Foundation Benefit

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MAY 8, 2007

You know, you would be so cute if you just did something with your hair. Have you put on some weight? You look heavier. Are you pregnant? You look tired. Are you getting enough sleep? You look like you just got out of bed. That would explain why your clothes are wrinkled. It doesn’t help that you’re slouching. Stand up straight. Your posture is horrible. You’re going to develop a dowager’s hump. Are you getting enough calcium? Iron? Vitamin B12? How often do you exercise? When did you start smoking? Do you want to die early? Smoking turns your teeth yellow. When was the last time you went to the dentist? Do you floss regularly? You don’t want to get gum disease. Gum disease causes heart disease. Have you had that mole checked? It looks like it’s getting bigger. When was the last time you went to church? Have you met someone new or are you still dating that loser? The one with the tattoos and ear pegs who works at the sandwich shop? The one who smells like foot odor, bongwater, and moldy bread? How can you live in this dump? You should clean up. You can’t leave the dishes out overnight. You’re going to have rats and roaches and God knows what else. Have you considered moving to a nicer neighborhood? There was a homeless man on the corner wearing high heels and a leopard thong holding a cardboard sign that read, “Beer me.” Why don’t they arrest people like that? I hope you’re not drinking too much. Drinking is bad for your skin. You don’t want to become a shriveled up old alcoholic like the man in the leopard thong on the corner. How much do you pay for this place? I hope you carry pepper spray. I don’t think it’s safe around here. You take the bus to work? The bus smells like pee and poor people. You can’t walk alone at night. Are you trying to kill your mother? Poor timing to say the least, it’s Mother’s Day weekend. You need to pull yourself together long enough to make it through Sunday brunch – long enough to convince your mother she was better off not driving to Mexico for a cheap abortion. And would it kill you to pop for some flowers and a card? Probably not. It’s small payback for the woman who ravaged her taint trying to squeeze your hefty noggin out of her birth canal, but it’s better than doing nothing. Face it, there’s no way you’re ever going to repay that debt, but if you’re intent on squaring the deal, if only in a karmic sense, free up your calendar Saturday night for the second annual Grace Foundation benefit at La Zona Rosa. The Grace Foundation helps homeless children get back on the right track and become functioning members of society by providing basic health care, job placement, career training, and college funding – all the stuff you might have taken for granted – for young adults looking to get off the streets. Don’t worry, you won’t have to check homeless waifs for scurvy, all you have to do is sit back, enjoy a concert by Rock Star: Supernova finalist Patrice Pike, a live, onstage painting by Rolando Diaz, food, drinks, and a live auction. Now you really do have a reason to do something with your hair.