Oh frabjous day, calloo, callay! Chuckweasel has gotten himself a job!
Technically, I am also in on the job, since we work as a team — he’s the DJ, and I, as Electric Six would put it, am the Dance Commander (I make people do the Electric Slide whether they want to or not). But in true HoodyHoo fashion, I did nothing to get this job, I just sat on my ass and let Chuckweasel worry about it. ‘Cause that’s how I roll, yo.
So anyways, Chuckweasel has gotten us a gig at a new dance club/bar-type deal… so hopefully I can do a lot less forcing people to dance and a lot more standing around looking pretty (’cause what kind of lame-ass goes to a dance club and then has to be MADE to dance?). But still, it means Chuckweasel will keep his name out there so we can get more event-type gigs and I will have 2 nights a week to shake my groove-thang.
It doesn’t open until mid-month, so I’ve got about 2 weeks to freak right the fuck out about something going wrong… ’cause that is ALSO how I roll, yo. But Chuckweasel is really talented and I, of course, am Queen of Everything, so we should be fine. The weird thing is, for an extremely antisocial homebody, I am actually quite good at gettin’ the party started… strange.