Angora’s Photo Blog: P.O.S., Grieves, Dessa, and the Pirate Signal

Angora Holly Polo may or may not currently be jacked up on Nyquil, but she definitely did go to a great show on Friday, took sort of alright pictures, and wrote arguably amazing captions just now.

I always resent hip hop shows when they make me put my hands in the air, but now I know why they do it. It’s a PR technique. Photos taken at hip hop shows look way more exciting than indie rock shows. No wonder those rappers are rich; we’re giving them free advertising!

Blackhearts hanging from the rafters and just generally blowing peoples’ minds. They didn’t even have to ask people to put their hands in the air. People just did it, probably to hold back the tidal wave of awesome because they couldn’t handle it.

The fifth Jonas Brother

Storytime at the Marquis

I call this one “Praying to the gods of awesome,” or “teenage gropefest,” I’m not sure which.

OK, so we had forgotten to get a photo pass when we got on the list. But I still tried to shoot pictures of my buddy Grieves by sneaking in the side stage area when I met this man, Mr. Official Photo Pass Holder. He blocked the fence, waving his gigantic camera in my face and almost putting my eye out (and making my camera feel quite inferior, I’ll be honest) and saying “I don’t think you should be here” in a big booming voice. Doesn’t he know who Donnybrook is? Anyway, I took a picture of him eating alone because he probably does that a lot. Also I thought the Marquis might want to throw him a little extra cash for being part-time security.

Grieves! He raps things and points fingers.

I would fix the blazing red eye P.O.S. has going on, but I have the flu. No joke! I shouldn’t even be posting these right now, I should be asleep. Now you want me to do things like fix red eye? Pay my hospital bill.

Someone in the crowd has a question for P.O.S., but he already called on someone else and it was that Know-It-All, Granger.

This is Dessa. If you need to be told she’s a bad-ass, you should get better glasses. Like the ones the DJ is wearing, par example.

P.O.S.’s DJ is such a raging awesome hipster. All night helicopters kept accidentally landing on his shirt.

These normal everyday people didn’t try to stop me when I, a stranger, walked up to them and started snapping photos. There was no fence keeping me out. They even waved. Why? Because these are decent hardworking Americans. They didn’t turn me away or wave their gigantic 10-foot camera in my face and try to kill my dream. That’s why they’re bathed in holy light. They’re god-honest decent Americans.

Father Guido Sarducci IV makes fun hand gestures with P.O.S. and his super awesome raging hipster DJ. Ever since I turned 21, I feel like more of a loser waiting in lines to meet/take photos with famous people. Aren’t we all adults here? Am I supposed to have you sign my baseball glove and give me career advice? That being said, I’m glad we met P.O.S. He was a nice guy.

Everyone liked Brother Travismo Sarducci. Guido and I were all trying to take pictures with everyone and P.O.S. was like “Get these weird people out of my way, I wanna take a photo with THAT guy.” That’s pretty much how it happened.

Father Guido Sarducci IV, Angora Holly Polo, in the middle of saying something that was probably awesome, and Grieves. Who is Number One.

After the show, someone lit a trash can on fire. I did not help put it out, but I did take this picture of it.

Conversely, the vandalism in swanky places is much more adorable. We went to our friend Rhiannon’s gorgeous loft for an exclusive after party with the Pirate Signal, and saw this display in the elevator on our way up. In the ghetto they burn trash cans, and in swanky lofts, fussy people throw fruit arrangements in the elevator. ‘Feck you, Helmsley! I said “papaya”!’

Brother Travismo Sarducci and Angora on the way to a 4 am bedtime. Goodnight.