Trip to Phan - and other journeys with the Space Cowboys
With 8ball taking a short hiatus I offer you this brief discussion (okay, my
rant) before divulging all of the great info you will need regarding events
featuring Space Cowboys for the next few weeks.
Driving through or past downtown Oakland some of you may have noticed the prominent ASK sign on the top of the skyline. It looks like Ask Jeeves, but the Jeeves is missing. They sent Jeeves packing and are apparently now on their own in the Asking department. Unfortunately for Ask, they don't have a chance in the search engine market to infiltrate the catchy lingo so common to our dot.com capital. Googling has become as common a verb in the bay area as Barting. Google is taking over the world, but Ask.com plugs along as part of the engine that could with their little family of Excite, Evite, & iWon.coms. Asking is never going to be synonymous with searching the internet. Everyone googles themselves, it just isn't as fun to ask yourself.
Googling what to do this holiday season???
xx
Andrea
Driving through or past downtown Oakland some of you may have noticed the prominent ASK sign on the top of the skyline. It looks like Ask Jeeves, but the Jeeves is missing. They sent Jeeves packing and are apparently now on their own in the Asking department. Unfortunately for Ask, they don't have a chance in the search engine market to infiltrate the catchy lingo so common to our dot.com capital. Googling has become as common a verb in the bay area as Barting. Google is taking over the world, but Ask.com plugs along as part of the engine that could with their little family of Excite, Evite, & iWon.coms. Asking is never going to be synonymous with searching the internet. Everyone googles themselves, it just isn't as fun to ask yourself.
Googling what to do this holiday season???
xx
Andrea
Decompression Missed Connections
Hello Friendly Person:
I'll forgo this installment of the Space Cowboy's announcement, in order to share with you an important letter from Space Cowboy's Loinquest. Just a quick mention, that in addition to the stuff going on this Friday at Mighty and Levende, Space Cowboy DJs will be playing with Angels of Bass at Shine this Saturday for a special Halloween event, and details for all are below. And now, Loin's letter begins...
"An open letter to the dudes who played tonsil-hockey with me at Decompression:
First, I hope you are well. Both of you. If there were more than two, I hope the rest of you are also well. Also, I apologize for the public, impersonal format of this communication, but I seem to have forgotten your name. Or rather, names. Did we swap names, I mean, I know we swapped spit, but maybe we skipped the whole, names thing. I forget. And to be honest, I also can't remember making out with you. I only know it happened because I have some really good friends who been only too happy to remind me. Yes, lest a moment should pass without me being fully aware of my, or should I say OUR, moment of P.D.A., my friends called the day after Decompression to taunt me about the guy I was making out with by the keg. What great friends! Anyway dudes, I just want to say thanks for an experience that would've been memorable if I hadn't been so drunk. Of course if I'd been sober, it probably wouldn't have happened to begin with because, chances are, you're not my type. Either of you. But let's just keep that mystery. And next time we're standing around the keg together, we can just pretend we don't know each other. You don't even need to give me back my gum.
Sincerely,
Loinquest"
I'll forgo this installment of the Space Cowboy's announcement, in order to share with you an important letter from Space Cowboy's Loinquest. Just a quick mention, that in addition to the stuff going on this Friday at Mighty and Levende, Space Cowboy DJs will be playing with Angels of Bass at Shine this Saturday for a special Halloween event, and details for all are below. And now, Loin's letter begins...
"An open letter to the dudes who played tonsil-hockey with me at Decompression:
First, I hope you are well. Both of you. If there were more than two, I hope the rest of you are also well. Also, I apologize for the public, impersonal format of this communication, but I seem to have forgotten your name. Or rather, names. Did we swap names, I mean, I know we swapped spit, but maybe we skipped the whole, names thing. I forget. And to be honest, I also can't remember making out with you. I only know it happened because I have some really good friends who been only too happy to remind me. Yes, lest a moment should pass without me being fully aware of my, or should I say OUR, moment of P.D.A., my friends called the day after Decompression to taunt me about the guy I was making out with by the keg. What great friends! Anyway dudes, I just want to say thanks for an experience that would've been memorable if I hadn't been so drunk. Of course if I'd been sober, it probably wouldn't have happened to begin with because, chances are, you're not my type. Either of you. But let's just keep that mystery. And next time we're standing around the keg together, we can just pretend we don't know each other. You don't even need to give me back my gum.
Sincerely,
Loinquest"
You Know The Rules
Hello Friendly Person:
Back in the olden-days when kids would swing around glow sticks, suck on pacifiers or blow green plastic whistlers, and jump around to that “rave” music dirty, pervy and opportunistic Space Cowboy introduced a few of the younger, corruptible Space Cowboys to The Rules. These younger Space Cowboys would hit up Pervy Space Cowboy for a key bump of his magic spooky disco dust, and the Pervy Space Cowboy would say, “Well, of course. But first, you know The Rules.” At which point the younger Space Cowboys would drop their drawers and flash their junk. Given recent events in Congress, I should clarify that this was in no ways sexual harassment, and everyone involved was of legal age. The Rules just acted as a way to regulate the transaction, so instead of “sharing” it was more like a trade. One of the younger Space Cowboys eventually got smart and took a Polaroid of his junk and kept it in his wallet to expedite the transaction. Others just learned to unbutton and sniff at the same time.
Today I was thinking how The Rules might be used more broadly, in our community and in a variety of situations. For example, Smokers: next time you’re outside Mighty and someone asks to bum one, open your pack, but give a pointed glance at their pants and say, "You know The Rules." And if you’re someone who regularly bums smokes, maybe your preferred nighttime attire becomes tear-off sweats? Promoters who find a raver coming up short on the cover charge, just say, "You know The Rules," and find out if the raver comes up short in other areas as well (uff-ah)! Of course, there are times when you want to use The Anti-Rules. Like at LoveFest; I think the large, naked white dudes, wearing Mexican wrestler masks and dripping with sweat could’ve easily drank free the whole day if they just asked me. "Want a beer," I’d say, "You know The Rules -- Put on some fucking pants!"
XO,
8ball at spacecowboys.org
Back in the olden-days when kids would swing around glow sticks, suck on pacifiers or blow green plastic whistlers, and jump around to that “rave” music dirty, pervy and opportunistic Space Cowboy introduced a few of the younger, corruptible Space Cowboys to The Rules. These younger Space Cowboys would hit up Pervy Space Cowboy for a key bump of his magic spooky disco dust, and the Pervy Space Cowboy would say, “Well, of course. But first, you know The Rules.” At which point the younger Space Cowboys would drop their drawers and flash their junk. Given recent events in Congress, I should clarify that this was in no ways sexual harassment, and everyone involved was of legal age. The Rules just acted as a way to regulate the transaction, so instead of “sharing” it was more like a trade. One of the younger Space Cowboys eventually got smart and took a Polaroid of his junk and kept it in his wallet to expedite the transaction. Others just learned to unbutton and sniff at the same time.
Today I was thinking how The Rules might be used more broadly, in our community and in a variety of situations. For example, Smokers: next time you’re outside Mighty and someone asks to bum one, open your pack, but give a pointed glance at their pants and say, "You know The Rules." And if you’re someone who regularly bums smokes, maybe your preferred nighttime attire becomes tear-off sweats? Promoters who find a raver coming up short on the cover charge, just say, "You know The Rules," and find out if the raver comes up short in other areas as well (uff-ah)! Of course, there are times when you want to use The Anti-Rules. Like at LoveFest; I think the large, naked white dudes, wearing Mexican wrestler masks and dripping with sweat could’ve easily drank free the whole day if they just asked me. "Want a beer," I’d say, "You know The Rules -- Put on some fucking pants!"
XO,
8ball at spacecowboys.org
