Frigid. Frozen biting winds. This is the balance to the tropical shenanigans of last weekend. I could stay in all day. Last night my baby sis, Miss Giadelphia talked me into going to a hip-hop show. Woah. Wall to wall beautiful people. K'naan, M1 (From Dead Prez), and Sick Sound Syndrome were notable and impressive regardless of the fact that it's not exactly my scene (what is my scene?).
More interesting to me was the debut of 4REAL VENEZUELA, a documentary that gave me chills and reminded me of Eli Jacobs-Fantauzzi and Inventos.
Completely unrelated to the amazing energy and messages of that show, I overheard a guy telling a story to a couple of friends. "At 2AM her vagina turns into a pumpkin," he told them. I had to run to the washroom to write it down. You just don't hear stuff like that everyday. In the ladies bathroom, on the door, someone had scribbled Hemingway's "The Earnest Liberal's Lament" 1921:
I know monks masturbate at night
That pet cats screw
That some girls bite
What can I do
To set things right?
The "graffiti" in women's bathrooms always fascinates me. I've decided to transport all of the people in attendance last night back to Seoul with me. Or better yet, a warmer climate would be a better idea.