Lady Starr Love and I arrived at Jaded following an extraordinary (but exhausting) photo shoot with Veronica Cross. We arrived to a pounding tempo, a stomping dance floor (both compliments of DJ Xero and DJ Silah), and a venue already packed with patrons. It would be fun and might even keep us awake!
The evening’s events began with a strap-on contest. Congratulate to my friends Joe and Mel for winning the prize for “size” (provided by njoy, BTW!). Good show! As for the contest itself—the microphone was either broken or disregarded. The presentation dragged on endlessly (without cues for the deaf audience). The enthusiasm was dead on delivery. Most of the photos couldn’t even be used. Certainly not the highlight of the evening. This brings me to an important point:
If you don’t want your photo taken, stay off the stage. Hey, I get it—that photo of you that I think is just terrif’ makes you want to yak. Say so; It’ll be gone lickety-split. If you don’t want to be caught wearing something, doing something, or doing someone, let me know. The moment it takes for me to re-frame my shot is more worthwhile than the fifteen minutes to edit you out so someone else can have their photo. There’s no hate here, just a plea—please work with me so I can be the joyous, mass-producing photography machine everyone loves!
On that note, I also have a secret for all you camera-shy grouches out there: if you are having fun, being you, and acting for your own amusement—don’t worry about the photos; you look 10x cooler than all your lame friends. Who cares if your face is a little herp-derp or your ass is a little extra O-hai! Check your insecurities at the door and double-check for toilet paper leaving the restroom, and your coolness is assured.
After more dancing, the vacuum cube performance was up.
For those unaware, a vacuum cube is essentially a latex cube in which one kneels, head stuck out a porthole, while the latex walls of the cube vacuum seal around them. Now, this was a silent performance, so no microphone necessary. One point for that! Nothing says smexy like a colorful, shapely gaggle of hot female bodies shrink-wrapped in latex. Two points! The adorable prisoner’s reaction to torture by various devices and body parts was priceless, so chalk another point for enthusiasm! While this performance did fare better than the stillborn contest, it still dragged on, outlasting its musical selection. The focus also seemed entirely on its participants, forsaking the surrounding crowd. A crowd will meet half-way if you connect with them, otherwise you will just lose. Glancing behind me at the dwindling observers, I sensed the former happened. Even so, it was still a spectacle!
Finally, the RiotGrrls‘ took the stage.
It requires mentioning: most violent performances disappoint me. Slaps equate to emphatic ass pats. Displays of dominance degenerate to gentle guidance with scornful expressions. Light touches cause ridiculous full-body spasms and obnoxious screams. I usually find myself snickering and averting my eyes to preserve the performers’ little remaining dignity.
The Riotgrrls’ “Happy Fucking Birthday” performance was no such disappointment. Mohawked Carver Riot’s gloves were off from the start. She abruptly jerked slaves Ruby and Barmy to the floor, rubbed cake in their faces, forced them to make out with her and each other, and at no point let on that the performance was fake—because it wasn’t. That is the type of show that satisfies me. If you are going to do something, do it! Major applause to Carver, Ruby, and Barmy Riot for doing just that—and concluding the night on an awesome note!
Watch the RiotGrrl’s Happy Fucking Birthday performance video!
Despite any mild annoyances, Starr and I had a great time. Even so, I happily pass my photo-sucking torch to my buddy Travis Mayhem for May 14th’s event. Come acquaint yourself with a Shadow sans camera, or wait to photo-whore for me on June 11th!