May 18th: a howl of rage and drag queen sequel

Day 244

Classes went well except I lost my patience in the Harry/ Monkey class. A kid in the back said something like "I sink he is in the tree." Other kids started pointing and laughing at Emnite and he shook his head.

"What did you say?" I asked, which was the wrong thing to do, since they heard Mr. Willis say "Everyone tell me what he just said but make sure you are louder than everyone else and stagger your response so it's not in unison but a big bunch of syllables and keep repeating it, increasing your volume as you do it." I had to scream at the top of my lungs and bug my eyes out to get my point across. "BE QUIET! WHEN ALL OF YOU TALK I CAN'T HEAR ANY OF YOU! I CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'RE SAYING! I'M ASKING HIM!"

"I sink he is in the tree."

"You mean 'think'?"

"Yes, yes."

Apparently one of Emnite's aliases is "Sink" and they got caught up in the fracas. I felt like I may have burst a blood vessel in my eye from the screaming. I love that class, why do they have to be animals?

Rhys, Jeni, Heather and I ate at the sheep place for la zi ji ding, since it had been too long. There was a seafood banner out front instead of the sheep and for a monet we thought they had switched menus on us. Dinner was fab, and I had some tangent about a Chinese entrepreneur gathering runover hedgehogs, freeze drying them, spray painting them metallic gold flake and emblazoning them with the text: "Eye was run over in Haimenchina" with a word bubble emanating from the nostril spouting another bit of Chinglish nonsense like "Pop and cute."

I also had an idea of starting some goth-screamo satirical band called "The Chest Waders" and having the ethos be wearing chest waders in order to "wade through all the bullshit of existence" and then it becomes a fashionista movement, with different slogans and logos on the big rubber apparati, a picture of sullen teens at the mall all sporting unhip fishing apparel. I envision the music to be a lot of German yelling and pointing. I love my brain.

We hit the club after, since it had been a while for that as well. I went behind the pulpit and parlez'd some flow, then the floorshow started. We were seated in a booth close to the stage, far right hand side. People kept going into our space and to a mysterious door in the back. I investigated to see if maybe Russian roulette or cockfighting was taking place but it was only a poker game hosted by the owner. Stioll, everyone stood with fists of kuai like something far seedier was going on. Maybe China considers high stakes poker to be a "closed door" affair, after all, a four inch nipple hair here can be a mark of male prowess, why not?

After a female singer and a Monkey King "twirling stuff in the air" routine, another drag queen show occurred. This one wa far less bitchy than the last one, but the show was far more disturbing. A bonafide strip tease went on,and no one had taught this performer about the genital tuck, so when it got down to G string, the unsightly bulge shattered the illusion and ruined my appetite. The appeal of a drag show is to pull off the deception by immersing in the character, this one "peeled off the mask" at the end by revealing an empty hirsute bird chest. And let's not forget the bulge. (beat) Actually, let's forget the bulge.

We left as the second round of dancing was beginning, weaved and wobbled home, retired.