Marilyn Manson. Mother’s day. 2012. Houston, Texas.
The city of Houston is a festering pile of less-than-shit where every inhalation carries the stench of failure into your lungs. To exist in Houston is to be a subhuman. Their downtown is full of empty buildings, failed businesses for lease, ugly people shambling down dirty streets with dead looks on their stupid faces. I fucking hate this city.
I’m only here to see Manson. Why the old gothic fuck won’t play New Orleans, I don’t know. But he won’t. Instead, he makes me go to Texas just to see his fat ass mope around the stage, caterwauling his well-crafted cacophonies with jazzy swagger and a wry sense of ironic humor. It was clear from the beginning of the set that Manson was having fun and so was his band. The audience was frenetic. I injured my foot fighting the power of the crowd. I elbowed people in the face. I screamed the lyrics to the songs I liked best at the top of my lungs. I drank alcohol and ate meat. I pulled down my girlfriend’s pants and groped her bare naked ass. I did what I do as Manson did what he does.
Beside me, a (drunk?) girl was trying to molest the girl in front of her, actually grabbing at the poor girl’s crotch like a depraved sexual maniac. She was warned several times. Then she was punched repeatedly in the face and left shortly thereafter. This is the justice of the pit. And it is good justice.
Manson sang the fuck out of every song. Some people say his voice isn’t what it used to be, but after seeing the Houston show, I’ve got to say: who gives a shit? This isn’t about technical proficiency. This is about heart. And Manson infused every word with passion and gusto like a true rockstar.
I’m tired of writing legitimate paragraphs. Here’s some bullet points.
- Manson threw a 12-year-old boy named Harrison a vile of cocaine. He interacted with the boy throughout the night. It was very Michael Jackson. I dug it.
- The French Dip at The House of Blues restaurant was really good.
- The Pretty Reckless are a corporately constructed band, but they were surprisingly not completely awful. Taylor Momsen seemed to have some heart, but she needs to ditch her shitty band and find one that actually gives a fuck.
- I had to limp back to my hotel like a pussy. It’s okay though. Galen gave me drugs.
- Fred Sablan (Manson bassist) looks like Igor.
- Manson is fat, but not as fat as he was when I last saw him in 2007. I think he should take his shirt off. I want to see his fat fucking gut jiggle around.
- A few people recognized me at the show.
- Galen was drooling over some Amazon chick. She was 6’2-ish. she’s also the girl that punched the fuck out of that other female who was outright sexually assaulting her. It was awesome.
- The venue was too fucking hot. Everyone was baking. Even Manson was sweating profusely. It must have been a humid 100 degrees in that fucking building.
- I dry humped Holly through several songs.
- The guys next to me at the beginning of the show were idiots. They were talking about how they were going to vote for Romney and how they think weed needs to stay illegal. I wanted to fuck them up in the pit, but by the time things got crazy they were pushed back like the pussies they were.
- The only Manson song that sucked was The Dope Show. It just didn’t work.
- The best sounding song live was Personal Jesus. The band totally nailed it.
- Some girl got on stage somehow and security pushed her off the stage into the backstage area and started screaming at her. I was hoping Manson would see her and hit her with his microphone stand.
- That’s about it.