Hot White Cum, Riding around with Rawk Stars, and the Triumph of Self-Respect...

Had tickets to an acoustic Liz Phair show at the Birchmere last night. Thoroughly enjoyable. Liz was so... Liz--raunchy, kind of off-key, and wearing the worlds shortest denim miniskirt while propped on a stool with her guitar, giving the whole audience a 2-hour long peek at her bright green undies. No one seemed to particularly mind, o'course--in fact, several dudes on the right of the stage kept screeching for her to turn and face them.

Now of course, I was more into the older stuff in her repertoire--I can do without her newer poppy sound. But us oldies fans weren't disappointed--she sang old faves Never Said, Mesmerizing, Supernova, and delightfully, Fuck and Run, along with a new soon-to-be-fave called Hot White Cum (to quote Dave Barry--I am not making this up). She opened with Polyester Bride from whitechocolatespaceegg, the newest "new" Liz album I really dig. Also sang a nice version of Uncle Alvarez from WCSE. People were yelling out requests for favorites--I'd have loved to hear Cinco de Mayo, but hey, can't have everything, right? Liz was accompanied by some guy on guitar who she never really took the time to introduce, but he didn't seem to mind being overlooked, as the chances that her tits might fly out of her top right next to him were pretty good.

Also of note--the opening act was Cary Brothers--that's one guy--first name, Cary, last name, Brothers. Not "The Brothers Cary," as I automatically assumed. Best know for the song "Blue Eyes" on the Garden State soundtrack--he absolutely blew me away with his opening set, just wailed and whispered along with his guitar. He's a serious talent. Oh yeah, and oh-my-god-so-fucking-CUTE. See for yourself: http://www.carybrothers.com/

Anyway, that's where the story gets good--after the show SVM and I saw Mr. Brothers sitting at a bar table alone and beelined to him, where SVM promptly flopped down and announced herself. Naturally, I hung back, cuz I do not have Big Brass Balls like she does and was feeling sorta shy. Anyway, we got to chatting (I asked where his brother was, like the 'tardo I am, and received the aforementioned clarification on his name). Commiserated with him on the shittiness of riding Amtrak, etc... Very cool guy.

Anyway, SVM (again, she of the Big Brass Ones) asked him if he needed a ride back to DC and he accepted! So funny--we loaded up his guitars and various crap in my trunk and Cary got the pleasure of listening to us squabble over driving directions the whole way home, but seemed to find it amusing. Dropped him off at his friend's place on Mass Ave. Wanted to lick him but restrained myself.

Insider tip: he said he just recorded a version of True by Spandau Ballet for some new Disney flick--we listened to my Pretty in Pink soundtrack in the car and sang along to Suzanne Vega. Cary also said he also got to be on an episode of Scrubs as an extra or something...not sure of the episode, exactly... but EEK! I met a real FOZ (Friend of Zack)!

Also noteworthy--through a heroic effort, i managed to restrain myself from asking Cary probing, dorkish questions about Zack Braff--who is, you should know, the Dweebish, Self-Effacing, Funny Funny Funny Man of My Dreams. Is Zack, like totally funny in real life? What's his favorite cocktail? Is he really into that stupid Mandy Moore or is he just using her as a social stepladder? Does he like 'natural' redheads? These are just a few of the excruciatingly loser-ish type questions I wanted to ask, but did not. So you see--another instance of the Triumph of Self Respect over mawkish sycophancy. YeeHAW!

Even when i was 12....
Viola