Bonnie Tagate's
Bonnie Tagate's Open Bar
© Copyright 2004, blue door productions
All rights reserved
Summer 2004
adjoining pockets, immediately speeds up the pace and runs the table, the satisfying sound of the eight ball being sucked into the side pocket echoing off the ceiling. It catches Butthead’s attention. Still on the phone, he momentarily looks shocked, but that quickly turns to a look that arrogantly says “Ya got lucky.” He’s mumbling into the cell as he reluctantly shuffles to the bar to get Cool Chick her trophy drink. I don’t know if Cool Chick is a hustler or what, but I sure loved the way she subtly and quietly laid the jerk out.

Across the street at the Luna Lounge, many beers and butts later, there’s nothing very subtle or quiet in the way Apocalypstik is sticking it to the guys in the crowd. Lead singer Aria is dressed in cowboy boots, fishnets, hot pants and a barely legal tank top as she belts out one tear it up rocker after another. And, if that’s still too subtle for ya, bass player Liz is sporting a Catholic schoolgirl uniform. And it’s looking a whole lot cooler and you-bet -your-ass sexier then anything Britney’s image makers could ever possibly dream up. The guys – Lasse on guitar and Steve on drums are pretty cool, too, in fact, they rip. The pumped-up Aria is celebrating her birthday this night (the helium filled chrome balloons spelling out her name at the back of the stage are a dead give away) and she's throwing back shots with gusto between songs. Maybe things are getting a tad sloppy as the set rolls on, but it only adds to the party atmosphere and we sure don’t see any cell phones being pulled out in boredom.

Apocalypstik appear on Anarchy Music’s Offspring tribute album as well as several other compilations and are currently in the process of finishing up a debut album of their own .
Quick Cuts Reviews
So it’s still early in the night at Max Fish and there’s a couple playing eight ball. But, they’re not a couple. Just a guy and a gal. The guy runs a few balls, misses another by a hair because it’s a partially blocked shot. The girl, a pretty slip of a thing (I’ll call her Cool Chick, ‘cause that’s what she is) misses an easy shot, grimaces, then leans on her cue stick. Meanwhile, the guy (I’ll call him Butthead, ‘cause that’s what he is) has pulled out his cell phone and is talking to his bud before at long last noticing it’s his turn. Visibly annoyed at the interruption, he says “Hang on,”   into the phone. Butthead looks at the table and notices he’s pretty well setup for a run, but after making the first two balls, he blows the third by putting too much force behind it. Guess he wants to show just how slick he is. He’s back on the phone, turning away from the table, absorbed in conversation. Cool Chick makes her shot, just barely. It tumbles into the pocket after hanging forever. But, she misses another easy one. She leans on her stick and waits. And waits. Finally, Butthead realizes there’s still a game going on. He keeps talking as he circles the table, ignoring his competitor. “Hold on, give me a second to finish off this game,” he says to the phone. Butthead quickly gets ‘em all, except for the eight ball, which loudly and erratically bounces off the corner pocket because he again tries to put an exclamation point on it. He’s on the phone again. “Huh? Nah, the eight got hung up.” Cool Chick skillfully eases two balls into