“Have a moisted weekend! (April 30 to May 3)This weekend is all about taking it into low gear going out, but maybe upping the attention on personal appearance just a touch. For instance, your feet. Are they a nasty shade of tallow white with yellow toenails? Maybe it’s time you got a pedicure. You can’t wear boots all year round. (Please don’t). Anyway, take a long draw from your favorite beverage, get yourself moisted, because it’s going to be a fabulous, fun weekend.

By the way, I’m thinking that FREE is really in right now, so this week’s column is going to be devoted to free and cheap.

FRIDAY, APRIL 30: It’s your last chance to party it up right this April, so here’s an idea. (This next one I cribbed from Mike Nipper at the Stranger, who, if you’re a usual reader of my column, you realize is the cutest, most unavailable, somewhat androgynous writer this side of the Rockies. And he’s got good taste).

‘WOGGLES, GIRL TROUBLE, LOS PELIGROSOS (Fun House): Fuck YEAH! I swear, even though they’ve been beset by the tragic loss of their ace ax man George Holton (AKA Mister Montague), the Woggles have rebounded respectfully and gracefully and have been workin’ some of that sweet, fine Wogglin’ ass right the hell off! And dammit if the Woggles don’t always impress me, not so much for their fucking ace of a stage performance… which is heavenly… but for their cool, always clean and perfectly executed, sweat drippin’ ‘n’ riff rippin’ ’60s-style garage rock. And, by the way, their latest LP, Ragged but Right, is a damn fine testimony, Woggle style!’

The only problem with this show is that it’s at the Fun House, which is basically Zak’s. That place was gross. I’m not sure how I feel about its reincarnation. If you’ve been there, email me and tell me whether I should check it out.

Another idea is to see a fun show at Patti Summers (great place for the first day of summer!) Blank Its are having a record release party there, and will be joined by the Dead Vampires, Leatherboy, $5, 21+. This show has the advantage of being close to Le Pichet and The Alibi Room, both of which are great places to whet your whistle.

SATURDAY, MAY 1: Despite what calendars say, May 1 always feels like the beginning of summer. You crave freshness. So, check out DJ Superjew (Marianne)’s opening (sounds like it’s FREE):

Pattern vs Happenstance opens Saturday May 1 7-11pm at the Black Lab Gallery (4216 6th Ave NW at Leary in Ballard) Show runs May 1-24. **also starring Dawn Cerny, Tory Franklin, David Herbert, DW Burnam, others… see http://www.sublevelthree.com for more info.

You’ll also want to go to Linda’s anytime in the evening (at least by 7:45 p.m.). Besides the usual patio and pool fun, there’s a birthday party for this really great guy named Paul who works for the Stranger whose last name I can’t ever remember. Anyway, you probably know him. If not, I’m sure you guys would get along great (he’s very loveable).

Lastly, I hope to end up at a ‘monumental’ brit-pop night at Mulleady’s Pub (on Dravus St.; 9p.m.-2a.m.; free; 21+). The host, Coulter, claims he has rare Morrissey for us. For those of you who drink Guiness, this would seem to be the night for it.

Just so you know, if you’re in LA this weekend, don’t bother w/ Coachella. Apparently that is not the thing to do. The thing to do would be to go to the SMELL (one of my favorite clubs in LA) to see Old Time Relijun. They are from Olympia and for someone who isn’t really into that whole Olympia thing, I really like this band.
SUNDAY, MAY 2 at 10:00pm, episode one of DOOMED PILOT will air on channel 27 (the pubic access station). Per Christian, ‘Doomed Pilot is a half-hour collection of short experimental film and video curated by yours truly, featuring work by Jon Behrens, Sebastian Del Castillo, Ryan Adams, William Weiss, and  crimsonclover- essentially a who’s who of bed-wrecking cinematic pretentiousness.’

Who could resist that?! I hear there may be a screening party. Drop me a line if interested and I’ll see what I can do. slowdiva@yahoo.com

MONDAY, MAY 3: OF MONTREAL, THE MINDERS, TERRENE (Sunset). Elephant 6 is still so cool, and it’s a nice little venue. Let’s go, shall we? It’s only $7. That beats the pants off of Snow Patrol at the Croc for $12. Come ON, Croc. Ever hear of capitalism? It’s based on competition for people’s cash. Might want to try it sometime.

Whatever you do, have a great time. And don’t drink and drive with disgusting yellow toenails. If you’re going to run the risk of going to jail and wearing those jail flip-flops, you need to get your nails done.

Love, Heather

P.S.:  For those of you who think “moisted” is not a word:

MOISTED, a. Made moist. Also (occas.): that moistens. 1549-62 T. STERNHOLD & J. HOPKINS Whole Bk. Psalms cxvi. 8 Thou hast deliuered… my moisted eien from mourneful teares. (Thanks, Catleah).

Heather Rogers, who derives more enjoyment from drag shows than I do, contributes the following second installment of personal entertainment recommendations:

“Hello you pretty people,

Today’s Earth Day, so cut the whole “I’m so over the whole PC thing… I gave up recycling in ’94 along with my Birks” attitude. Today’s a great day to do something good. Like make a window box of flowers. Or get your soil tested for lead and arsenic and report the results to the city (it’ll help you with your lawsuit later on!). And you know what—you’re helping the environment RIGHT NOW—by reading fabulous online media (although I know a lot of you print out my column so you can read it in the bathtub while touching your “special place”. But I forgive you, you dirty doggies!)

Speaking of special places, you need to read Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. It’s Hedwig chilled and served with a slice of baklava. It’s a fuller Bildungsroman. It’s fabulous. I know I mentioned it last time, but I don’t think enough of you are actually reading it yet. Plus if you want to be part of Nerd Out book club, you need to read it. Our next meeting is May 9 at 3 pm. There will be a special screening of Hedwig following the meeting, featuring erotic food. Email me for more details at slowdiva@yahoo.com.

Now, onwards to what the hell are you going to do this weekend:

Make time this weekend for the MC5 True Testimonial film at the Little Theatre. It’s playing April 23-29 (no show Mon.) at 608 19th Avenue East, $7. Dir: David C. Thomas. This will also go along great with Middlesex because it, too, will Detroit race riots in the late ‘60s, albeit from a very different perspective. Plus, a rare MC5 photo show following the film Dial 206- 675-2055 for more info.

Tonight: Rest up—you’ve got a busy weekend ahead of you.

FRIDAY NIGHT, the favorite choice is the BIG GAY DANCE NIGHT at Chop Suey. Or you could check out the Turn-Ons and Film School at the Croc. But I think we all need a little big gay dancing right now. (Oh, underagers—you could go see a cool band called Holy Ghost Revival at the Old Firehouse. But I’m mean and don’t like that venue, and I don’t go to the Eastside. Sorry! I’m a West End Girl now (see below for details).)

SATURDAY NIGHT, the music isn’t really making my slot go ca-ching, but I know what will… and you heard it hear first. Check out the window peep show at Salon Dewi, right by the Baltic Room. Travis the Waxing Diva will wax a girl’s private area (that is, PUSSY!) in public. Ooh, Naughty Naughty. Anyway, it starts at 10 pm and it’s free. Perfect—you have some din-dins over at Machiavelli, then watch some poor innocent girl (he always seems to talk some clueless little thing from the suburbs into this action—it reminds me of that sexy ravishing-of-the-innocent-girl scene in Interview with the Vampire. Yum.) have her icky old hair removed, exposing her oh-so-tender, flushed, peachy flesh… Then go to the Baltic Room after you’re all charged up and dance sweatily to house music with someone hot. OK!

Monday is actually the BIG NIGHT this weekend (or week, whatever). You have to choose between Kraftwerk at the Paramount and BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB and the Rapture at the Showbox. Whatcha gonna do now?  Huh?  (Tho’ I love BRMC and the Rapture, the correct choice is obviously KRAFTWERK. Duh. They’re playing only three American cities, I heard).

So, I’m moving to West Seattle this weekend, so I’m going to rely on my gentle (and rough) readers to give me the skinny, because though my ear will still be to the ground, the vibrations will have to travel farther to get to me. So, fork over your fab events and if it sounds cool, I’ll tell everyone.

You know what? I love you. I really, really do.”

The Dutch have come up with the next stage beyond monster-green contact lenses: Eyeball jewelry, tiny shiny things surgically implanted into the eye’s mucous membranes.

(Thanx and a hat tip ot Anne Silberman for the link.)

Che Guevara?

Symbols of empowerment or retro-kitsch?

…for wearing pink shirts? Of course not.

JUST IN TIME for the tenth anniversary of his leaving us, fresh Cobain shirt designs are in the tourist shops.

ANYONE REMEMBER Professor Egghead?

For the third year, the Pioneer Square Mardi Gras was a low-key battle between the citizen proponents of fun and the official enforcers of no-fun. This year, an informal truce seemed to have been reached. Nobody I saw tried too hard to act high and/or rowdy; the police seemed more interested in traffic control than with forced attitude adjustment.

An accurate photo essay on the event would have nine pictures of cops and one of participants, instead of the other way around.

No wonder Polaroid’s in Chapter 11: An enterprising entrepreneuse sold digital pix of the low-key revelers, which she instantly churned out on a portable mini-printer.

IF TOMORROW, “Super Sunday,” is America’s biggest day for macho horseplay, last Friday night was Seattle’s night to celebrate beauty.

First, there was the lavish opening party for Spa Noir, a new posh pampering palace in the former Confounded Books space at Second and Bell. Above, owner Jessica Norton receives a bouquet of flowers and a socket wrench to celebrate having finally gotten the space ready.

Spa Noir offers all the favorite day spa services (facials, massages, manicures, etc.), but offers them until 10 p.m. Appointments can be made for even later at night, so bar and nightclub workers will have something to go to after closing time besides the suburban casinos.

Just a block away, the Rendezvous hosted the Nerd Rock Fashion Show A Go-Go, a sprightly little fashion show featuring local designers and benefitting the fledgling DIY arts orgalization Hometown Gravy.

Then, down by Terry and Mercer at Consolidated Works,, came the lavisher-than-lavish opening night gala for the second Seattle Erotic Arts Festival. You’ve got to get there this weekend. It fills Conworks’ cavernous exhibition space with hundreds upon hundreds of paintings, drawings, sculptures, Etch-A-Sketches, installation pieces, and more. They mostly are figure studies of lone females and males in provocative poses. There are also many fetish action scenes, some gay action and lesbian action scenes, and even three or four images of heterosexual coitus (the one category noticeably missing at last year’s festival in Town Hall).

It was often hard to see the beautiful art because of all the beautiful people in the way. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of flirty gals and dashing guys swarmed the joint, reveling in their fabulosity.

The festival organizers didn’t let me take pictures last night. (Hey, some of ’em are BDSM people, so you have to expect they’ll love to make rules.) I did, however, persuade a finely-coiffed party attendee named Alisha to pose outside the building. (Her outfit was designed by print MISC contributor Jen Velasco.)

As Seattle’s winter overcasts continue their reign of darkness, something like Beauty Night should be an annual ritual.

…to fashion photographer Helmut Newton, the king of opulant sleaze, and to Bob “Captain Kangaroo” Keeshan, the king of wholesome salesmanship.

During Keeshan’s heyday, some Seattle-area viewers occasinally wrote in to the daily papers complaining that KIRO-TV showed only the second half-hour of Kangaroo so it could run the more local, and more light-entertainment oriented, J.P. Patches (see the right-hand side of this page). I’m personally glad both hosts got to be seen, because each had his own set of messages and each cared about us young’uns in his different way.

“Clinic,” the weekly live-music showcase at Re-bar, is still going on, despite the decline and fall of its co-sponsor Tablet.

Tuesday night’s edition went like they all did. Three bands played (pictured below: the unabashed loudness that is The Octabites). An improv troupe of “naughty nurses” told a few jokes and mingled among the crowd, passing out promotional tchotchkes for Tablet and Toys in Babeland.

After three years and change, the last fortnightly Tablet tabloid is out. Officially, the soft ad market did it in, along with its also-ran status in the local “alt” media universe and its confusing every-other-week schedule. But I’d add that the paper’s concept was contradictory from the get-go.

It never paid its writers a cent; expecting them to work just for the privilege of getting their statements made.

But, aside from a few political conspiracy-corner columns (which never challenged the orthodox-“radical” views of the paper’s target audience), its content was almost uniformly perky and light. The rag acted as if it was daring and rebellious by printing only positive reviews and by running lotsa puff pieces for advertisers.

In the end, Tablet had become a thin publicity sheet, not a true “alternative” at all. Its instigators plan to resurface later this spring in a monthly “magazine” format (no, I don’t know what that means) selling ads to both Seattle and Portland youth-culture businesses. I wish them success, and hope they’ll use the opportunity to reformulate their approach.

THE ‘IN FOR ’04’ LOOK in interior design: Aluminum foil, everywhere!

THE INVENTOR of the Chupa Chup lollipop, source of half the caloric intake of some fashion models, has passed on.

AN ACQUAINTANCE NAMED RUSSELL held a “Loud Jacket Party” last Saturday night. The loudest jacket I currently own is a double-breasted navy blue number with silver pinstripes, but nobody seemed to mind.

My favorite new local band, Lushy (more about them on a future date, I promise) played two sets of ultracool jazz-pop. Delicately tasty cocktails were served up by trained professionals. Party guests read aloud from Russian history books when they couldn’t think of anything witty to say, which wasn’t often.

The center and right faces in this pic belong to the extraordinary party goddess DJ Superjew and cool-and-strange-music connisseur Otis F. Odder.

I didn’t dress up. But I went where I’d find other people who’d dressed up, and asked if I could take their pictures. Almost everyone agreed. Herewith, some samples.

This barista is wearing an authentic 1950s UW cheerleader uniform from the Red Light.