It must have been after 2am when I climbed off the parked car outside BOCA last night because they were telling us — and everyone — to get out. A guy came up to me and said, “Are you Violet Blue?” I think I smilled and nodded sheepishly. He said, “I thought so! You were on *fire* dancing on the bar in there.” Wow. Still amazed by that… I did indeed dance on the bar at BOCA; I also dragged the Current TV cameraman into my psychosexual mock-cunnilingus act with a grrrl trumpet player on the bar; I used him as ballast while I crawled around on her as she played; I have a *huge* bruise on my left knee from the whole thing. Probably screwed up his footage (I declined an interview with them, partly because I didn’t want to sign a release).
Shared a cab home with horn players going to the Haight, crawled into bed covered in confetti. I doubt the video I took is any good because it was so dark in the club, but I’ll check it later — gotta jet to SRL now. Enjoy the photos I took last night from my (certifiably) insane experiences with my dear friends The Extra Action Marching Band.
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