Friday, July 15, 2016

Master Of Puppets Bating

In my continuing effort to keep Denver weird, I went to the Syntax Hipsteroleum Magic Lonely Hearts Revue Opera House to watch an astronaut sing to his puppet. Heh heh, thanks, Amy Hopkins!!

But before we get to the, uh, good stuff, there were several acts warming us up to the max. First there were some dudes playing their moogs and going beep boop on them as if Soft Cell was a thing again.

Then out came a collection of assholes who demanded we get off our seats and stand up for our right to be idiots. They were called "The Assholes Who Demand Things" and they wore bright leotards and headbands. One very tall, skinny man in very tight, very green leotards with a very prominent bulge came out into the audience and tootled on his magical flute while others flung glitter and fairy dust in our irritated eyes. Then, as the lady screamed that things were going to get freaky, I made for the exit--before someone slammed the curtain shut on me.

Confused, a little scared (was I not allowed to leave?), I turned back and hovered on the periphery as people crabwalked and bent themselves in yoga poses like The Crotch. A seated woman turned to me and shouted something. I leaned in and she asked if I could hold her seat amid the chaos whilst she got a smart drink. I shouted sure. I then had to fend off various bebearded weweirdos trying to take a breather from all the fairy dust.

"Sorry! Taken!" I bellowed.


"NO BUENO!" I waved at the chair.

The woman finally came back and thanked me while the green leotard dude tooted in my face and demanded I put an end to the patriarchy.

"Sorry!" I shouted. "I'm evil!"

It wasn't until midnight that the headliner, David Liebe Hart, finally mounted the stage with his astronaut uniform. But it was another thirty minutes before things began. I realized I wouldn't be able to tuck myself in with my jammies and warm milk any time soon. A man with handlebar mustachios jostled into me as more and more people crammed into the tiny space. There was now upwards of two dozen people in here!

At last the music/comedy/art/fluffernagel extravaganza began. In front of a screen, and beside an angry DJ guy, David belted out all his distinctive tunes...

"They livin' it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)
Bring your alibis...!" *coff coff!*

And then, just when we all thought we couldn't get any higher, out came the pruppets! The pruppet looked at us and then we saw the pruppet and the pruppet melted time and space.

"Let me chew your brains ha ha."

Sir Hart also had things to sell, and woe betide that person who didn't partake (or betake)! (I didn't.) Amy tried to get David and the angry DJ to stay at her home, but as fate, alas! had it, she was denied her grasp for immortality. Instead she had to settle for this crappy t-shirt (picture):

"Wow. Tommy Wiseau has really let himself go...!"

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