Last night, I went to see Skinny Puppy at the Electric Factory.  I was really super-pumped for it, being that I listened to Skinny Puppy all the time in high school and the last time they toured was in 1992.  I had figured I'd never see them because they were broken up.  Well, they came out with a new CD and are touring.  The only places in the entire country that they are playing at, however, are Chicago and Philadelphia.  So last night, the place was packed with people from DC to New York.  Well, Skinny Puppy fucked up a lot, but it was still good. However, we were standing on the balcony right behind this goober of a woman who danced.  Constantly.  She didn't stop.  And it was some of the worst dancing I've ever seen in my life.  At first, during the random jungle songs they were playing during setup, her dancing wasn't too bad.  She was shaking her hips and it wasn't good, but it wasn't too bad.  Yeah.  Then I saw her face.  Wow.  The airplane has crashed into the mountain. Anyway, when Skinny Puppy came out, the dancing escalated to a freak out frenzy of no rhythm.  She must've been on ecstasy or rat poison or something, because you don't dance that badly for that long without chemical assistance.  Her moves were as follows:

Tapeworm Freak-out: This was the move she did that looked like the giant tapeworm in her stomach couldn't take any more, and was trying to force its way out of her body by any means necessary, causing her hips and ass to gyrate in the most unflattering way ever.  During all of her other moves, this one never stopped once for two hours.

One-Handed Traffic Stopper:  She'd freeze her upper body (while the lower was still gettin' down!  OW!) and extend one arm out with her palm up as if she was a traffic cop or crossing guard stopping traffic.

Two-Handed Traffic Stopper:  Like the One-Handed Traffic Stopper, but double.

Regular Rock-Star Point:  Like the Traffic Stopper, she'd extend her arm to give a rock-star point with one hand.  Instead of pointing at the band or another person, like how a normal rock-star point works, she'd point it up at a 45 degree angle. She really liked the duct work, I guess.

EXTREME (to the MAX) Rock-Star Point:  Like the regular, but with two hands pointing at nothing in particular, and they were usually pointing in two different directions.

The Fist Pump:  Violently pumping her fist up and down as if she was beating the shit out of a table.

The Shame On You:  Like the Fist Pump, only she'd also be wagging her index finger as if to say, "Shame on YOU for rocking so hard!"

The Rag doll Head:  She'd roll her head around and fling it back and forth as if her neck was made of Jell-O. Like it seeped out of her brain cavity and conquered her neck.  Also, it made her nappy, greasy hair fling around. Gross.  It almost looked like that stupid "exercise" everyone had to do in grade school gym class where you roll your head around in a circle.  I think they called it a "stretch."  I never understood that one either.  Make your own joke.

Anyway, for two hours this lasted.  She danced non-fucking-stop.  I watched her more than I was watching the stage.  It was hilarious.  But, the really funny thing was the guy that was with her.  He sat the whole time, arms crossed, staring directly ahead devoid of emotion.  You know what he was thinking.  "What the fuck is wrong with this girl?  I take her out to a concert and she dances like a machine.  A machine that has something seriously wrong with it."  It was the third funniest thing of the night (second being the dancing queen, first would be the shirt I wore where I painted "I EAT BABIES" on the front).

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