A Savage Rage - Live, Onstage!

Goddamn, it's good to be back in Seattle.

I'm on a week's break from work, and I flew here for four days. 

Seattle! 
Lesbians at the baggage claim!  Lesbians in the park and lesbians sulking around the U district! 
Lesbians pushing babies in high-tech strollers while wearing uglyass REI fleeces and Earth shoes!  (Ew!)

Coffeeshop dykes and dykes browsing for Valentine's Day vibrators at Babeland; shifty-eyed girls at The Wild Rose and extra-pale, undernourished women at the co-op!

Piercings and pink hair and tattoos and vegan restaurants and bikers and farmer's markets and stupidly-heavy metal water bottles attached to carabiners attached to hideous hiking backpacks!  I fucking love Seattle!!!

It seems that I have been missing lesbians.


Which is why last night was so great.  In honor of Valentine's Day, Dan Savage (of Savage Love-column-fame; google it if you don't know what I'm talking about) hosted Seattle's annual Valentine's Day Bash. 

It was a party for bitter, single people.  I really like bitter single people.  They're mean and sarcastic, and that makes me feel comfortable.
I also like to whore around a bit, so I figured the bitter people at the party would be looking to fill the hole in their hearts with sex. 
Sex with me.


I am like a martyr that way.

Here's why the Bash was so great: 
Everyone who came was supposed to bring a momento of a failed relationship - an object you were still holding onto, despite the relationship going sour and ending badly. 
Like the clay sculpture your ex-girlfriend made for you on your 6-month anniversary.

You get onstage and Dan Savage introduces you and asks for your ex's name.  Everybody boos for your ex.


Then Dan asks you about your object, asks how the relationship ended, and then destroys your object onstage in a fit of rage. 


Example!


Dan Savage:  Here's Nina, everyone.  Hi Nina! 


Nina:  Hi.


Dan Savage:  So, what was his name?


Nina:  Ryan.  Ryan White.  He's a tattoo artist in Seattle.  Actually, his shop is right around the corner from here.


Audience:  BOOOO!!!!


Dan Savage:  Fuck Ryan White! Don't anybody date Ryan White, that tattooing, cocksucking liar.  Ok, Nina, and what have you got for us to destroy tonight?


Nina:  This is his favorite t-shirt.  We got it together when we went on a two-week roadtrip across America.  He really loved this shirt. 


Dan Savage:  Ooh, and does it still smell like him?


Nina:  Yeah.  I haven't washed it.
 
Dan Savage:  It does smell good! But why are you bitter?  Why can't you move on?  How did it end with Ryan, Nina?


Nina:  I found him in bed with, um, two of my friends.  We had been living together for three years.


Dan Savage:  Two of your friends?  TWO of your friends?What kind of a guy is so fucking amazing that he thinks he can fuck two of your friends in your bed??  FUCK RYAN WHITE!  WHAT SHOULD WE DO TO THIS POISONOUS, GOOD-SMELLING T-SHIRT that belonged to a lying-mouth, cheating-ass TATTOO ARTIST who couldn't keep his cock in his pants???


Nina:  Obliterate it, Dan.


Dan Savage:  I believe we should take a piss on Ryan's favorite t-shirt.  WHO WANTS TO TAKE A PISS ON RYAN WHITE'S FAVORITE T-SHIRT?  Who's got a full bladder?  Here you go, sir, take it to the men's room with you. 
Give Nina a hand, she's suffered so.
WHO'S NEXT???  We have a chainsaw this year!!!

I enjoyed myself immensely.  Dan Savage had: 


1) a chainsaw (which tore through a signed first-edition of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)


2) a sledgehammer (for an ugly fondue set and engraved wedding wine goblets)


3) a blowtorch (for melting the housekeys of a guy who dumped his girlfriend a few hours after her mother died)


4) a tar-and-feather bucket (for the humiliation of an ex-boyfriend's boxer-briefs)


5) an industrial shredder (for romantical journals, love letters, and a temporary restraining order)


6) dry ice (for freezing and then shattering innocent jade houseplants)
                        and


7) a live archer, complete with a crossbow (for shooting arrows through original works of art and teddybears.) 

He made a lesbian shred a list of promises in a blender with oranges and bananas and drink it as a smoothie, to more fully ingest the idea that she would never keep a girlfriend until she kept those promises.  The list included bullet points like "I will stop cheating and then lying about it" and "I will talk about my problems instead of holding them in." 
You guys, she drank a paper smoothie.

He melted a sad gay boy's sterling silver Tiffany bracelet until it dripped onto the stage.

Somebody wiped their ass with a sweet love letter from a guy who lied about why he used to be in prison.  It turned out he was a rapist.

The club was crawling with queers.  I was wearing something obscenely tight and trying to catch the eye of the tallest lesbian in the room. 

Nothing doing. 
She got onstage later and proceeded to shred 44 naked pictures of her very recent ex-girlfriend.  I lost interest immediately.
Now who shreds naked pictures?  That's just crazy.

Anyway, my question to you all is:  What would you destroy? 


What object from a past relationship should, by all rights, be in pieces in a dumpster? 

 Tell me tell me.