is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.


When the Cookie Monster Rocks, It Is Surprisingly HOTT!

At some point during the Cookie Mongoloid show Caroleen leaned over to me and said, “I have cookie EVERYWHERE.” I said, “yeah, I think there is cookie dust stuck between my thighs, and I’m not sure why that should be the case.” She said, “there is cookie in my bra.” Etc. When Jeff and Caroleen dropped me off at the end of our long and educational evening, I felt congested, and then we all realized that we had huge amounts of cookie dust up our nostrils. How did this happen? During a Cookie Mongoloid show, not only do the Cookie Girls run around dancing and throwing massive amounts of cookie at you, but Cookie Monster has a Cookie Uzi that launches cookies all over the audience whenever he feels like it.

You may be axing yourself, what the hell is a Cookie Mongoloid? First of all, I’m assuming you know that all Death Metal singers sound like Cookie Monster. If you don’t, you’ll just have to take my word for it. They do. It is their way. So someone here in the Bay Area took the necessary step and started performing Sesame Street songs in the Death Metal style, dressed as Cookie Monster in a leather outfit. I’m not sure I can really do justice to what this all means. From the slightly disturbing semi-sexual feelings I had for leather-clad Cookie Monster to the crazy projectile launching of cookies all over the audience, not to mention the various forms of utterly entertaining audience behavior, it was a crazy night. Right now I’m in bed typing this, and I’m realizing that I might need to take a shower before trying to sleep, because ME ITCHY WITH COOKIE. Cookie sang many Sesame Street songs, and some adapted punk rock favorites, like A Cookie in the U.K. (you know, the Sex Pistols’ ‘Anarchy in the U.K.’). During that number Jeff and I could not stop laughing, because it was so perfect/ludicrous. I’m sure you are aware that Cookie Monster does not use the first person pronoun properly when he speaks of himself. He does not say “I want a cookie.” He says “Me want cookie!” So, for instance, the lyrics: “Me know what me want and /me know how to get it/ Me want to destroy/ Chips A Hoy/ oh me /want to eat /a cookie!” Fuck! Picture all this with loud loud music and a man in a leather motorcycle get-up with a cookie monster head and blue furry hands singing. I’m telling you it’s BRILLIANT. Jeff had warned me that I might only want to see two songs and then leave. And he was WRONG. I watched the SHIT out the whole set and was way too happy the whole time. COOKIE MONGOLOID!

Regarding the semi-sexual feelings, I’m going to put it down to what I like to call “The Misterogers Phenomenon.” I never realized how deeply affected I had been by Misterogers until he died and I watched the Nightline special on his work, and then, to my surprise, cried inconsolably for two hours! Apparently I really loved Misterogers. A lot. Luckily Cookie Monster will never have to die. But, man, when a character with whom you grew up and with whom you also identify (he loves cookies! I still identify with him!) is all of a sudden rocking on a stage in a leather outfit, it is surprisingly hott!

I am not saying that Misterogers could have carried off the rocking and the leather.

That was phase five of our evening. We started by attending an art opening full of young hipsters. Some of them were cute and/or interestingly-attired, and I always enjoy people-watching. After the “art opening,” we tried to go eat yummy Pakistani food at Pakwan, but there had been some sort of grease fire in the kitchen and I could hardly breathe inside the restaurant, so we had Thai food instead at Malai, and it was TASTY. Then went back to my house to figure out what to do next. Caroleen had the brilliant and heretofore unexplored idea that we should drink some Malibu rum straight to see what it tastes like before it becomes a girly drink. And let me tell you, it tastes like a paradise made of sugar and coconut. It doesn’t taste like liquor at all! Then we called Sunny. Sunny was at a huge art event on Third Street where she had VIP passes, so we went down there and had free drinks while watching typical San Francisco entertainment, seated on soft sculptures made to resemble giant cigarettes (American Spirits was a sponsor). That’s right, I parked my ass on a huge cigarette bean bag and watched overdressed people from the Marina ogle various forms of Typical San Francisco Entertainment: Alterna-circus-types. At one point Caroleen said to me, “I LOVE this song. It makes me want to JUGGLE FIRE!” And I looked up and, what do you know, a girl was juggling fire. Man, what IS IT with the freaking fire jugglers in San Francisco?! How has it come to pass that I at the tender age of 39 am so BORED by fire juggling that I never, ever have to see it again? NEVER! Jeff added, “Hey Jill, we’ve just saved ourselves a trip to Burning Man this year!” Ha. (The best thing about Burning Man time in San Francisco is that all the Alterna-circus types are OUT OF TOWN! I mean, I love the portion of weirdness that they all add to the San Francisco Way, but sometimes it’s just really really nice to be sure I won’t see anyone juggling fire, or doing a trapeze act in a zombie costume, no matter what kind of a party I attend.)

However there was a hot contortionist-type dancer whom I enjoyed watching for awhile. Then Sunny brought me another free drink. And then we decided to get our asses off those huge cigarettes and go see COOKIE MONGOLOID. Jeff and I sat down on a fluffy but not so clean couch at the Cyclone, and he leaned over and said to me, “I know I should just grow up and everything, but that art party FREAKED ME OUT. People were chatting me up asking me what I DO FOR A LIVING!” I said, “Dude, don’t grow up. I want to spend my whole life feeling more comfortable here than there!” Then I looked around and realized that right next to me was a man with a totally red head and horns coming out of his forehead. It was Zombie Girl night. But at least no one was juggling fire. There was, however, a Satanic altar that blew flames at varying heights according to how loud the drums were at any given moment. And there was also a huge sacrificial toilet down which two adventurous lesbians who were doing a semi-violent sexdance for quite a while were flushed at some point. Caroleen was wondering how long they would be stuck in the toilet, or whether there was a trap door in the bottom and they were actually now in the back of the room entertaining someone else with their antics. There was more than one person painted red in attendance. And there was someone painted green. It was the kind of place where you stand out if you don’t have at least one sleeve full of tattoos. OR A COOKIE MONSTER HEAD!

1:36 p.m. - July 17, 2005


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