Sleepy Stripper

Reason number 417 why I love the Minnesota Music Cafe: Sleepy Stripper

Yes, it was another great week with the Tony Sims Band. David and Logan from work came out for their first TSB experience and finally got to see what all the fuss is about. Though Smokey wasn't playing...he's smoking up in Jamaica with Jen...lucky bastard. And apparently Tony and Dave are spending Easter weekend at church...in Las Vegas!!! As Dave says: "we're gonna go play some high stakes at the Bellagio. We might lose, but we might not, but we probably will". Well said sir. Dave was looky mighty hot this week by the way...and he played Yesterday of course!

But the real reason that this week was so delightful was because i made a new friend. We have named him sleepy stripper...you'll soon undertand why that is his name. So, Jean and I are out shakin our asses to something (probably mustang sally) and we notice this odd man dancing in front us, girating his hips and grinding himself against the stage. My first thought is that he looks like a male dancer...a stripper...not that i have much experience with strippers....really i don't. But sure enough, he's moving his hips way more than any normal stright man would...we got quite a kick out of it. Later in the evening, he was dancing with slutzilla and some of her friends...he was obviously intoxicated, but not a horrible dancer. Oh, and i should add that he was actually kind of hot. Despite his cargo pants and baseball hat, he was hot. Well, Jean bet me $10.00 that I wouldn't dance with him. Ummm, hello, i need 10 dollars! So, during Twist and Shout Mr. Stripper happened to be shaking his ass near me and I was doing the same. Before i new it, his hands we on my hips and we were dancing. I am now the proud owner of $10.00. Well, Mr. Stripper's hands kept wandering up and when they finally reached my breasts, i removed them...that's when he asked if he could go home with me! No sir, you may not. You are a stripper.

Well, after that rejection ,he had no choice but to go sit at the rail and pass out. Thus the sleepy part of his name. He sat there, head bobbing for over an hour...through singing, screaming, guitaring (yes its a word), and even through Slutzilla's friends putting lipstick on him! Oh sleepy stripper...the crazy old woman dropped her number on your shirt and you didn't even notice. You could have had sex for money and that's hott. MMC, I love you!

It's Springtime for Shannon and Germany

Any time I hear "It's springtime" all I can think of is The Producers....anyway...

So I'm walking to the bus today after a morning matinee full of screaming children. I'm in my all too common black pants, black tank, black hoodie and black jacket...sensing a theme in my work uniform? Anyway, I'm walking downtown and realize I'm hotter than a whorehouse on payday (a line in the play i'm doing right now). I look around and there are people wearing sandals and t-shirts. Now I realize its warm out, but come on...flip flops already?

This made me think about something which I know all Minnesotans will understand. Why is it that as soon as the temp rises above 43 degrees we all think it's summer? I mean, its 45 right now and I'm considering walking out in a t-shirt and no jacket! Yet come September, when it dips down to 47 degrees, we'll all be digging out the wool sweaters and mittens. Its something that's always seemed odd to me.

So, welcome spring! I'm glad its 45 and sunny. Although its supposed to be 33 and snowy tomorrow...god i love Minnesota weather!

the 500 hats of Tony Sims

I can't believe its taken me 5 days to finish writing this, but here it is...

Well, another Thursday night has come and gone. The new slutzilla was there with her boobs hanging out of her crocheted shirt and her cowboy hat that is trying to look like Smokey's. She's such a slut; screaming and drinking and using the air microphone...but she's hot I guess, so people will do her. Even Matt crossed to the dark side and went over to talk to her! Traitor! Hey slutzilla, PS- if you're wearing ugly shoes, don't put them up on bar.

The band was in rare form. After the first set, they all came out wearing hats (minus Tony- I later found out he's just too cool to wear a hat) Dave was wearing one of Smokey's old hats, and Ryan was wearing a news boy hat. Tony was offered a fishing hat, but said "This is cute" and threw it to the floor. Apparently he's not into hats...that'd mess up his hair.

Now I'm sorry Jean, but I have to write about the best part of the night. At the end of the night, Jean went to the batroom for the 47th time and I was left sitting alone. Well, who should notice this, but Dave. Ahh Dave....take off that damn hat! I must admit, it made him look a bit chubbier and as Jean points out, "He wouldn't be so fat if he drank Bud LIGHT". Well, fat or not, at least mine came to talk to me! Anyway, Dave comes and sits next to me and we chat for a while...and by chat I mean me bringing up subjects and him answering the briefly. Man this band needs to learn how to talk to thier fans!!! Well, we talk talk about Tony and how he's too cool to wear hats...and he's definitely not a fisherman...But, when he was ready to leave, he slid he hand on my leg and said, "I'll see you next week!" That's right sir you will..and perhaps I'll follow the MMC tradition by taking off my pants! Tony, on the other hand, spent the evening talking to slutzilla at the bar...sorry Jean!

UPDATE: We went to Raggs on Friday night and Tony was there...with Slutzilla. They were actually there together. Jean, remember...I always have my Leatherman with me and it has 2 knives, a saw, and a screwdriver or two (you know, for really gory mauling), so just let me know when we should use it on slutzilla!

Why Don't We Have Boyfriends?

So I was out at Keegan's with Matt last night, listening to Dave work out some new songs, and we started the age old conversation: "Why don't we have boyfriends?" This made me think of many things I've heard over the last few days about this subject.

My mother is convinced that one reason I don't have a boyfriend is that I belch. Not alot, and not in mixed company. But at home, yes its true...I do. I blame Ryan and Jean for this habit. So last night my mom says to Matt, "I'm sure that's why she doesn't have a boyfriend" to which Matt very matter-of-factly replied, "No, that's not why." But he didn't expand on that. Well, apparently he knows the secret answer but isn't sharing.

Someone else made an interesting comment about my looks the other day. Now, I know I'm not drop dead gorgeous (also a great movie), but I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm unattractive. Well, this person I was talking to put it in an interesting way: "You're cute. You're even more cute because of your great personality (gee thanks). You're like Selma Blair. She's cute, but she's not hot. Salma Hayek, now she's hot! So, you're Selma Blair, not Salma Hayek" Well thank you for that intersting observation. I guess I should be happy I'm Selma Blair and not Selma Bouvier!

Of course another point to be made is that I'm often out with gay men. I don't know many straight guys...I mean even all the tech people at the theatre are women! So perhaps I need to find different venues...and Matt needs to stop hanging out with all the straight girls...then maybe he'll find a boyfriend too!

But I suppose I shouldn't complain. There's this great invisible man in my life. Tall, dark, and handsome...good listener...well educated...into art...very sexy. Too good to be true? Perhaps. Too cliche? Maybe. But a pretty good invisible man I must admit. If only he were here in person! I'm sure that's how everyone feels! Ok, that's enough of wallowing in my single depression...I'm sure there's some chocolate somewhere in this house!

Bongo the Rooster

Reason number 213 why I love my job: Bongo the rooster.

(A picture will soon be added)

That's correct, in my highly prestigious job (where I make $175.00 a week), I now get to take care of a rooster. In the current production of Fireball (which is actually a very beautiful show...you should come) there is a live chicken. So, we procured a chicken from the co-writer's hippie friend. Actually we have 2 chickens (apparently they're very social animals). So we have the actor chicken who has been named bongo (apparently in rehearsal, bongos were the stand in for the chicken) and we have Bongo's friend, Spot (who is actually stripped...don't ask)

Now initially Bongo was going to be Stage Left...thank god...since I'm stage right. Plus I'm already running the revolving stage, fog, and 3,000,000 costume changes in a 5'x5'' space. So have time/room for a chicken??? No. Although neither does the Stage Left ASM. Well, much to my joy last night, I found out that Bongo will indeed be living on my side of the stage, which means I'm the one who has to keep him from crowing during the show...which he likes to do. So Bongo and I sat down to have a chat:
Shannon: Listen Bongo, if we're gonna be friends, or at least co-workers, we have to compromise.
Bongo: Buck (head bob)
Shannon: If you promise to keep it down backstage, I promise not to drop your cage when I'm carrying you up the stairs.
Bongo: Buck-gock (head bob)
Shannon: Fine, I also promise to change the papers in your cage so you don't have to lie in your own poo.
Bongo: Buc-Buck-Bugock (head bob, leg kick)
Shannon: Ok, I also promise that the BBQ chicken and grill props are never in the same room as you.
Bongo: Bu-Bu-Bu Cock!!! (ruffles feathers)
Shannon: I'll take that as a deal.

So Bongo and I have come to terms with our new working relationship. He also stipulated that he wants a star on his big cage in the tech office...I'll see what I can do. Man I love my job!