Tracy Staton has written a really wonderful article about the Texas Rollergirls and Flat Track Derby, with lots of quotes from me and a lovely mention of my book.

Check it out: http://www.americanwaymag.com/tabid/2855/tabidext/3727/default.aspx

So… I have to admit, I was kinda like “SXSW… eh.”

But then Whitney Matheson, the too-fabulous-too-really-deal-with author of Pop Candy, posted the news that she’s having a meetup for Pop Candy readers next Friday, and suddenly, I was thinking of all the reasons to be excited about SXSW this year.

1. Avenue A | Razorfish Happy Hour
Sure, it’s just drinks with co-workers and SXSW Interactive attendee nerds, but their MY co-workers, and I like them. Fun!

2. Karaoke Apocalypse at barcamp
It’s the collision of worlds. D the B was already planning to attend Barcamp. Apparently it’s super awesome nerd mecca. Then Karaoke Apocalypse was invited to play at their cocktail party… and it’s being held at GSD&M. The work life/play life collision is giving me a little bit of a headache, but it kinda rules, too.
Karaoke Apocalypse – Sat, 3/8 – 8:00 p.m. – GSD&M Office, W. 6th St.

3. Wristband!
Karaoke Apocalypse is also playing an official SXSW show at Emo’s on Sunday, March 16. That means I get a wristband and can check out new music and generally act like I don’t have responsibilities—at least for a few days. 6:30 a.m. boot camp be damned! I’m going to the rock show.
Karaoke Apocalypse – Sun, 3/16 – 12:45 a.m. – Emo’s

4. Magic
I’ve become one of those people that grumbles just a little bit when SXSW rolls around each year. People from all over the place descend on our town and, yeah, it gets a little hectic. As an Austinite, it feels like none of the hoopla is really for us. “We’re being invaded!”

But the flip side of that is the magic. Everything takes on a dream-like haze. The weather starts to get warmer. There’s music EVERYWHERE. Pawn shop parking lot? Sure. Grocery store? You bet. Offices of an advertising agency? Naturally.

Bedtime becomes random. Tacos are de riguer sustenance. And even if you’re not participating, you know somewhere, someone is. And that delicious thought is filled with possibility. There are daily editions of the Austin Chronicle, and friends appear in unexpected places. It’s like I always imagined my college campus would be (but wasn’t), or maybe Heaven. “Free music, free food, and all your friends… come on in!”

5. It will be over!
And life can return to normal and St. Joe’s Choir can finally get out and play again because all of our bandmates will return from their SXSW duties. Whew!

I wrote an article for Blood & Thunder that highlight my completely biased opinion on the best stuff to do in Austin. Just in case you didn’t get your copy of Blood & Thunder yet, here’s the text of the article so you can start planning your AWESOME Austin Derby weekend! (Links and addresses for all of my recommendations are at the bottom.)

Austin is billed as the “Live Music Capital of the World.” And it’s true, you can barely walk out the door without tripping over a guitar slinger. But Austin is also the birthplace of Flat Track Roller Derby—and a killer town for eating, shopping, and imbibing refreshing adult beverages. As D the B, my kickass widower, likes to say, “Austin is a great hang.” Here are some recommendations for making your trip to the ATX for the Texas Shootout WFTDA Championships one you’ll remember, even after last call.

Best Places to Roll Through Texas Rollergirls History
Legend has it that the idea of a Roller Derby revival took hold during a cigarette-and-whiskey-fueled night out at the Casino El Camino, Satan’s cocktail lounge at the crossroads of Sixth Street and Red River. The jukebox is stocked with classic punk rock, the burgers are thick and juicy, and the clientele is street fashion chic. Within staggering distance is the Texas Rollergirls unofficial clubhouse: Beerland. What could be better than the land of beer? With its basement feel inside and sidewalk smoking lounge outside, it’s like the best rec room you could ever imagine. Beerland hosts live music every night, and has supplied the beer for Texas Rollergirls bouts since day one. Be sure to introduce yourself to owners Donya and Randall, a fine pair of rabble-rousers who are deeply invested in the Austin community and know how to run a bar that’s welcoming, affordable, and fun. Around the corner is Lovejoy’s Tap Room, purveyors of handcrafted beers. There are usually three or four originals on tap, along with a dozen or so other quality draughts. Lovejoy’s was the originator of Hotrod Honey Ale, a custom brew whose bitter-sweet flavors captured the personality of our pink-n-black team. Further along Sixth, in the midst of the bars with barkers offering $1 well drinks is a blessedly wicked oasis: The Jackalope. With multiple Rollergirls slinging drinks behind the bar and delicious bar food rolling out of the kitchen, the Jackalope is the other unofficial Texas Rollergirls clubhouse. Hang on the outdoor patio to indulge in a smoke and watch B-movies projected on the brick wall.

There are two bars that make it worthwhile to leave the heart of downtown. To the west, go to Wahoo’s Fish Tacos to check out the Texas Rollergirls memorabilia wall—and enjoy Cali-Mex food that’s both fresh and decadent. To the east is the Longbranch Inn, established in 1934. Today behind the bar, you’ll find Kumbalah —known frequenter of mosh pits and the winner of the Texas Rollergirls #1 Fan Award—pouring with a generous hand and flirty smile.

Best Reason to Rent a Car
You might think that a plate of smoked meat can’t change your life. You’re wrong. A trip to the Salt Lick Barbecue, a 25-minute ride through the Hill Country to the little town of Driftwood, is a pilgrimage. And your spirit will be moved. Don’t even bother to glance at the menu, just look the server in the eye and say, “We’ll have family style.” Tender brisket, tangy sausage, and fall-off-the-bone ribs are accompanied by ranch beans, potato salad that’s a tasty sponge for soaking up the house BBQ sauce (in a pitcher on the table), and cole slaw made from the owner’s secret Hawaiian family recipe. Request a side of the habanero BBQ sauce and make ‘em think you’re a local. Then go all touristy on their ass and ask to go behind the counter to look at the meat hanging over the smoker; take a photo to show the suckers back home. Save room for the blackberry cobbler dessert and answer the question, “Do you want that al la mode?” with a hearty yes. Warning: drive quickly and safely back to Austin; food coma sets in approximately 45 minutes after your last bite. Do not make plans for the evening.

Best Free “Only in Austin” Tourist Stop
If BBQ is the manna of the gods, then Stevie Ray Vaughan is Austin’s numero uno rock deity. Legend has it that Stevie had Salt Lick BBQ flown to him when he was on tour. Load “Texas Flood” and “Pride and Joy” onto your iPod and pay your respects to the blues guitar legend at his memorial statue at Auditorium Shores on the fringe of downtown.

Best Place to Chill Out
In other parts of the country, September is sweater weather, but in Austin, we’re still swimming outdoors as Halloween approaches. One of the best places to dip your toes or take the plunge is Barton Spring Pool. Found in Zilker park—the home of the ACL Music Festival—the pool is a refreshing 68-degrees year-round and is fed 32 million gallons of water from the underground Edwards Aquifer. Entrance to the pool is $3; bring a towel and hang out on the grassy bank under a canopy of trees that have stood for centuries. Then take a 25-minute ride around the park on the Zilker Zephyr Miniature Train to enjoy the park without having to do all that annoying walking.

Best Places to Stock Up on Fishnets
Need new fishnets? A Cleopatra wig? False eyelashes? A killer little black dress for the after-party? Electric Ladyland is a massive costume shop in the heart of a cute li’l shopping district on South Congress. Racks of costumes for sale and rent are bordered by a counter stocked with all flavors of fishnets, sunglasses, and gloves, and a wall covered floor-to-ceiling in jewelry. On the east side of town, visit The Bazaar for slinky dresses, sexy hose, lingerie, and a make-up lovers paradise of powders and potions. Buy yourself a bottle of Final Seal, the secret elixir that will ensure your make-up lasts from the first whistle to last call.

Best Late Night Snacks
Austin has some great 24-hour joints if you want a full meal (Magnolia Café, Star Seeds, Kerbey Lane), but there are two can’t-miss quick bite institutions: Mrs. Johnson’s Donuts make Krispy Kremes seem like hockey pucks in comparison. Open overnight from 8:00 p.m. until noon, Mrs. Johnson’s has been serving donuts with the ideal balance of grease and sugar since 1947. And when you wander out of the bars on Red River, follow your nose to the line of hipsters, punks, and sorority sisters waiting in line for a dose of protein from the Hot Dog King’s truck. All-beef Chicago dogs, gourmet chicken, and veggie links are tucked into fluffy, soft-but-chewy Italian rolls. The countertop row of hot sauces and condiments—jalapenos, onions, sauerkraut—is tidy and the cans of soda are icy.

Best Places to Get Your Skate On
For old school rink appeal, you can’t beat Playland Skate Center. It’s where Flat Track Derby started, and it’s got all the appropriate accoutrements: giant sparkly disco-ball roller skate, lavender acrylic floor, fog machine, overhead colored light show, and a booming sound system. Outdoors, we’ve got the Veloway, a 3.1-mile paved loop exclusively for cyclists and skaters. The wide, smooth path winds through a lovely park—and it’s free! Keep your eyes open for road runners, blooming cactus, the occasional snake, and bunnies. Don’t forget your helmet and bottled water!

Best Places For Media Consumption
Get ready to part with your paycheck at the media mecca of Sixth and Lamar. Waterloo Records is the kind of music store you’d open if you had your own: a badass mix of local music and major label stuff staffed by people who seem to really care about music. There are plenty of listening stations, a used section, and an impressive rack of music mags and books. Across the street is Bookpeople, the kind of book store you’d open if you had your own: thousands of magazines, a coffee shop, nifty Texas-y gifts, and deep inventory of books in every genre… staffed by people who seem to really care about books. Further along Lamar, visit Cheapo Discs, a cavernous used CD store where you can listen before you buy, thumb through a healthy vinyl collection, and pick up cheap used DVDs.

Best Places for Alterna-Gifts
You deserve a present! Atomic City, one of the first places in Austin to stock punk rock gear back in the day, is a little house stuffed to the rafters with retro-kitsch toys and knick-knacks, jewelry, and a shoe buffet: creepers, mary janes, patterned slip-ons, and more. Introduce yourself to Jim “Prince” Hughes, the owner and lover of “really cool stuff.” For f*ck me pumps or kicky flats and rock star worthy jewelry, stop by Lucky Soles. At Monkey See Monkey Do, you’ll find neato stuff you didn’t realize you needed: safety tape printed with multi-colored Jesus heads, wind-up walking sushi, stacking espresso cups, and magnets and patches galore. Tesoros is loaded with beautiful, magical goods from around the world. Day of the Dead figurines, handcrafted jewelry, art books, hand-hammered tin ornaments, vintage Mexican photo cards… all at prices that make it easy to treat yourself.

Best Places to Eat (Healthy & Cheap) Near the Convention Center
You’ve gotta keep up your strength if you’re going to survive an entire weekend of watching Flat Track Derby. And sometimes, you’ve just gotta eat a vegetable. Leaf tosses big salads with super-fresh ingredients and savory homemade dressings. Choose from 12 menu salads, or concoct your own from the ingredients bar. At Which Wich, you build your sandwich from a mix-and-match list of ingredients. Toasted to perfection, the bread is crispy and light; the fillings are generous and vibrant. Recommended: the Cuban! Mongolian Grille is one of the best secrets downtown. Grab a bowl and stack it with fresh-cut veggies, and slivers of beef, chicken, and pork—or cubes of soft or fried tofu—then whip up your own Asian sauce from the ingredients and recipes tacked at the counter. Hand off your masterpiece to be stir-fried on the giant grill; nibble on complimentary peanuts while you wait.

Best Place to Cure Your Coif
Go for the glam at Electra Beauty Lounge, a salon that treats you like rock royalty. Owner Jene and her staff are expert colorists, cutters, and waxers—and the shop is bright and feminine, with stilettos and Docs equally welcome. Bonus: the salon is located in a shopping pod that includes a coffee shop, taco joint, and tattoo shop. Don’t miss the art in the back courtyard.

Once you’ve explored these recommendations, be sure to pick up a copy of the Austin Chronicle, our free weekly rag, that lists all the current goings-on goin’ down.

Atomic City: 1700 San Antonio St.; www.myspace.com/atomiccityaustin
Barton Springs Pool: 2101 Barton Springs Road (in Zilker Park); www.ci.austin.tx.us/parks/bartonsprings.htm
The Bazaar: 1605 E. Riverside Dr.; www.insiderpages.com/b/3721912834
Beerland: 711.5 Red River St.; www.beerlandtexas.com
Bookpeople: 603 N. Lamar; www.bookpeople.com
Casino El Camino: 517 E. 6th St.; www.casinoelcamino.net
Cheapo Discs: 914 N. Lamar St.; www. cheapotexax.com
Congress Avenue Bridge Bats: Congress Avenue Bridge; www.batcon.org/home/index.asp?idPage=122
Electra Beauty Lounge: 2310 S. Lamar Blvd.; www.myspace.com/electrabeautylounge
Hot Dog King: Parking lot at the corner of Red River St. & 7th St.
Jackalope: 404 E. 6th St.; www.jackalopeaustin.com
Jo’s Coffee: 242 W. 2nd St. and 1300 S. Congress Ave.; www.joscoffee.com
Kerbey Lane Café: 2700 S. Lamar; www.kerbeylanecafe.com
Leaf: 419 W. 2nd St.; www.leafsalad.com
Longbranch Inn: 1133 E. 11th St.; www.eastinns.com
Lovejoy’s Tap Room: 604 Neches St.; www.myspace.com/lovejoys
Lucky Soles: 202 Colorado St.; www.myspace.com/luckysoles
Lucy in Disguise: 1506 S. Congress Ave.; www.lucyindisguise.com
Magnolia Café: 1920 S. Congress Ave.; www.cafemagnolia.com
Mongolian Grille: 117 San Jacinto (@ 2nd St.); www.mongoliangrille.com
Monkey See Monkey Do: 1712 S. Congress St.; www.myspace.com/msmd
Mrs. Johnson’s Doughnuts: 4909 Airport Blvd; www.mjbakery.com
Playland Skate Center: 8822 McCann Blvd.; www.playlandskatecenter.com
Salt Lick Barbecue: 18001 FM 1826, Driftwood; www.saltlickbbq.com
Star Seeds: 3101 N. IH 35 (frontage road @ 31st); www.starseedscafe.com
Stevie Ray Vaughan Statue: Riverside Drive & S. 1st St., on the south side of Town Lake
Tesoros: 209 Congress Ave.; www.tesoros.com
Veloway: 4801 La Crosse Ave. (near the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center); www.austinexperience.com/outdoors/spotlight/veloway/veloway.html
Wahoo’s Fish Taco: 509-A Rio Grande St; www.wahoos.com
Waterloo Records: 600A N. Lamar St.; www.waterloorecords.com
Which Wich: 259 W. 3rd St.; www.whichwich.com

Austin Fit Magazine recently sponsored a competition to find the Top 10 Fittest athletes in town—and the Texas Rollergirls own Bloody Mary (aka, Juliana Gonzales) made the list.

From the magazine: “Here at Austin Fit Magazine we spend a lot of time thinking about the word ‘fit.’ What does it mean exactly? Does it refer to physical prowess, agility and speed? Does it require a certain number of hours on the treadmill or bike every week? What does it take to be truly fit? This year’s selection of 10 of Austin’s Fittest all embody what we believe to be the true definition of the word ‘fit.’ Nominated by members of the Austin community, the qualifications asked that nominees be committed not only to their own personal health and fitness, but dedicated to helping others achieve a more active lifestyle as well.”

Check it out online at Austin Fit Magazine.

And if any of y’all want to take on Bloody Mary, I hear you can often find her running ‘round the streets of Austin and skating like a demon at Playland’s speed class. She’s also a member of our Texas Rollergirls Texecutioners team, which means she’ll being going helmet-to-helmet with all comers at the WFTDA National Championship in Austin on September 29 & 30. Good luck keepin’ up with her!

This is a HUGE accomplishment—not just for Bloody Mary personally, but for our sport. Kudos to Austin Fit for recognizing that athleticism and fishnet stockings are not mutually exclusive.

I’ve got a link for you to add to your Derby bookmarks: ViaDerby, a new content/commerce site that is “committed to strengthening roller derby leagues, growing the sport internationally and supporting the roller derby communities.”

Via Derby was started by Estro Jen (Angel City Derby Girls) and a few of her trouble-makin’ cohorts. It’s got a pretty graphic design, and the makings of some deep content:

Bootique: to indulget your shopping lust
iDIYa: fun DIY crafts projects to keep you occupied in those few hours you’re not on the track
Wall of Pain: a photo gallery of bruises, wounds, and tattoos
Inside Line: a quick Derby 101 to help rookies get started

There’s also an interviews section called Wreckognize which right now features an interview with… ahem… ME!

In addition to a welcoming “we’re all in this together” tone in the editorial, the site also puts its money where its big Derby mouth is. Via is committed to raising cash for Derby-good causes, and will donate a portion of its proceeds to three organizations:

Junior Flat Track Derby Association: focused on helping girls ages 10 through 17 learn our sport

Broke Bitches: a fundraiser for skaters that are in need of cash to pay their deductibles for injuries incurred during game play

Roll Trip: a fund being raised for a group of roller derby skaters from all across the USA to go to another country and either start or help a struggling league overseas

Visit ViaDerby and learn more about their mission on their super-cute About page.

If you can read your email, you can read a kickass novel. May I recommend Jane Eyre to start?

DailyLit will send tasty digital snacks of public domain books to you. You can specify segments every day, just weekdays, or M/W/F via email or RSS. Neat, right? Each installment should take about 5 minutes to read. Surely you can fit that in between watching this on YouTube and getting snarky with GoFugYourself (but let’s be real… how totally awesome is Steve Perry in that photo?!).

I just signed up for The Moonstone, a book about which I know nothing except that it was written by Wilkie Collins, the author of The Woman In White, which is considered one of the first mystery novels in the history of literature. If you haven’t read it, check it out! The mystery is unraveled through the accounts of multiple characters. Each character moves the story along and provides his or her own perspective of the events. It’s spooky and offers insight into the social mores of the mid-1800s in England, which were racier and more filled with treachery than you might think.

Anyway, back to DailyLit. You can search for titles by author, book title, or - my favorite - category. Adventure! Romance! Mystery! Feeling a yearning for Shakespeare? They’ve got it. Or how ‘bout a crime thriller from Joseph
Conrad. And, yes… there’s always Jane Eyre.

The best book ever. Ever.

Ever.

Last summer, Tomcat and I were cast as extras in an independent film called Kabluey. The cast includes Lisa Kudrow, Christine Taylor, Teri Garr, and Chris Parnell—and the filmmaker Scott Prendergast wrote, directed, and starred in the movie.

Tomcat and I were “angry punk rock roommates” who scare the bejeezus out of Scott’s character as he cowers behind a box of Froot Loops on the couch, wearing nothing but his underwear. My primary job was to scowl and squint, which I think I pulled off beautifully.

See it in action! I’ve got a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment in the trailer, which you can watch on YouTube.

The film is premiering at the LA Film Festival this weekend! Cross your fingers that Scott has huge success—and you just might see me on the big screen.

I know! I owe y’all lots more book tour stories. And I’m going to get to it; I promise.

But now…

In honor of an upcoming Karaoke Apocalypse with The DeadMotleySexMaidens rock show, I present my second installment of “The Author’s Cut” – passages from Rollergirl: Totally True Tales From the Track that were edited from the manuscript by my super kickass Simon & Schuster editor. I agreed with her recommendation to slice these bits from the book – and I’m happy to share them with you now.

For your reading pleasure: stories about some of my favorite musicians in the world—the members of The DeadMotleySexMaidens.

All the Sex, Drugs, and Rock’n’Roll Without the Annoying Rehearsals

It’s only a mild exaggeration to say that everyone in Austin 1) is in a band, 2) wants to be in a band, or 3) used to be in a band. For a long time, I was in the second category. Then I met the DeadMotleySexMaidens.

The SexMaidens’ Karaoke Apocalypse answers the question, “What if you replaced a karaoke machine with a headbangingly good live band?” and their playlist is a collection of the punk rock and heavy metal songs they loved in high school. They were booked to play the Texas Rollergirls Championship in 2004, and the invitation to sing with them included the magic words, “request any song you want.” Just like that, I was signed up to sing one of my all-time favorites: Social Distortion’s “Ball and Chain.”

The resume of my past musical performance experience includes such high-profile and wildly sexy gigs as:

• Soprano in the American Music Abroad Choir (recorded on a double-LP with a photo of us in our navy blue skirts, white blouses, red blazers, and all-American smiles)

• Leisl in “The Sound of Music” at Blue Mountain High School

• Piano accompanist for the Blue Mountain High School Chorus and Vocal Ensemble

• “Maid No. 3” and “Resident of Hooverville” in the Reading Civic Opera production of “Annie”

• President of the Hendricks Chapel Choir and member of the Bell Choir, Syracuse University

When the band graciously offered to rehearse with the Rollergirls who’d signed up to sing with them, I was relieved, excited, and ridiculously nervous. I’d never met any members of the band, and I expected them to be pale, skinny, studded, hipper-than-thou, too-cool-for-school, look-how-ironic-we-are-playing-hair-metal jerks.

But when Chepo, guitarist and heart of the band, opened the door, my anxiety evaporated in an instant. Chepo has a smile brighter than the maag light on your key chain—the kind of smile that makes you feel like you’ve always been friends. It’s no wonder that whenever I mention his name to someone in Austin, their response, with their own reflexive smile, is usually, “Oh! I’ve known Chepo for years!” He is the most fanatical of Star Wars fans, and as talented as he is sweet-natured. I think he can fake his way through any song after hearing it once.

He introduced me to the rest of the band…

Behind the drum kit was Adam. He was, most likely, wearing a KISS t-shirt that night; he’s almost always wearing a KISS t-shirt. His myspace page features photos of him through the years, wearing the face paint of each member of his favorite band. Steady and solid—in life and behind the drums—he keeps the beat with taut energy. He’s a vegetarian and a personal chef; I know from first-hand experience that he makes killer enchiladas.

The other guitar player is Lisa. She’s listens more than she talks, and when I’ve had too many shots of Jim Beam, I plead with her to teach me how to be a bad ass like her (to which she usually replies, “A good first step would be to stop asking me how to be a bad ass.”) She’s the go-to girl if you need an AC/DC or Metallica solo that shreds, or advice on natural remedies.

On bass: Peter. He’s got the wise-ass charm of Bruce Willis, circa Moonlighting. I’ve been advised to assume he’s always mocking me, just to be on the safe side. He writes songs so catchy, the choruses get stuck in my head for days. He has an SAT-worthy vocabulary, and he’s just as likely to talk about the most recent episode of Jeopardy! as he is about sex—and he talks about sex constantly. His answer to the question, “How’re you doing?” is always “Awesome.”

Practicing with the band that night was exponentially more rockin’ than singing with a chorus—although I’m sure I was the stiffest of the stiffs my first time at the microphone. The music was so loud, I almost couldn’t hear it—but the thud felt great under my solar plexus. The gusto the band brought to the cheesy classic “We’re Not Gonna Take It” (remember the video with Dee Snider?) removed any qualms I had about their potential for post-modern irony.

At the Championship game the next week, singing “Ball and Chain” was almost better than skating. (To the band’s credit, it was months before they told me they hated playing my Social D song.) I have friends who say they can’t sing for people they know, but it was a blast to look into the audience and see my pals Kitty Kitty Bang Bang and Cary and Nathan singing along with me.

Karaoke Apocalypse gave our Texas Rollergirls fans a chance to see another side of their favorite skaters. Who knew that Pixie Tourette could do a dead-on impersonation of the Dead Kennedys’ Jello Biafra? (Only she could pull off a sexy performance of a song that compares California’s governor to a Nazi.) Derringer .44 on “Bad Reputation.” Hot Wheels on “Paranoid.” Whiskey L’Amour on “Hit Me With Your Best Shot.” White Lightnin on “We’re Not Gonna Take It.” They showed our audience that they really are rock stars.

I was thrilled when Chepo asked me to be the hostess for the band. It’s my job to sign up people from the audience to sing—and to make sure that once they hit the stage, they keep it together enough to follow the lyric sheets I give them. Before the gigs, when the rest of the band is loading in cases and amps, looking coolly blasé, I arrive with office supplies: an accordion folder of lyrics and a clipboard. Most of the time, I drink only water, all the better to deflect drunken audience groping and to catch the music stand, the microphone, and other flying objects launched by overzealous singers.

At our first gig together—on the outdoor patio of Club DeVille—it rained in the middle of the show, then Chepo got frustrated and smashed his amp, and the whole band got drunk on Jaegermaister shots bought for us by an appreciative audience member. By 1:00 a.m., Rollergirls—Sparkle Plenty, Pixie Tourette, Buckshot Betsy, Dagger Deb, and a few others—were dancing, strutting, skipping, and gyrating on the catwalk in front of the stage, stealing drinks from innocent bystanders and each other. During our last song, they shoved Chepo into the broken husk of his amplifier and pulled him down the catwalk, like Caesar in a chariot. Chepo never stopped strumming his guitar, not even when Anna Mosity leapt into the amp case with him, alternately pummeling him with her fists and smooching his smiling face.

Another time at Club DeVille, we were joined on stage for the encore by a mariachi band: “Enter Sandman” with horn and accordion accompaniment.

The show where the rock‘n’roll train derailed with the most violence and glory was the pep rally before our season opener in 2005. The plan was a good one: all four teams would show up in uniform at the Longbranch Inn—the bar that sponsors the Honky Tonk Heartbreakers—to play team-themed games with our fans. There’d be competitive Dance Dance Revolution, carnival games, trivia… good, clean fun as an excuse to give away tickets to the bout and get people excited about the upcoming season. Then we’d all rock out with Karaoke Apocalypse.

But everyone forgot an essential Texas Rollergirls equation:

7:00 p.m. ‘til 2:00 a.m. + alcohol + Texas Rollergirls + competition = danger

From the photos in our online scrapbook, it looks like the first two fan-versus-Rollergirl competitions (with the Hustlers and the Honky Tonk Heartbreakers) went smoothly. There’s Curvette on the DDR pad, and Trouble—laughing and alert—posing with a Heartbreakers poster. A sweet shot of Rosie Cheeks shooting a pyramid of beer cups with a water gun. Oh! And there I am with my clipboard.

Then the photos take a decidedly tipsy turn.

If I squint, wrinkle up my nose, and think really hard, I can retrieve a vague recollection of all of us deciding to abandon the remaining team-themed games because the hostess and most of the participants had slowly, steadily, inexorably become alcohol-impaired.

So the DeadMotleySexMaidens took the stage. Duos were a big hit that night. Kitty Kitty Bang Bang and her beau Nathan Black did their rendition of the Misfits’ “Last Caress,” which inspired a mosh pit of shirtless, sweaty, first-pumping Rollergirl widowers, led by the owner of the Longbranch. Pixie Tourette and Anna Mosity sang together like old chums, then ended their duet with a full-on catfight at Chepo’s feet, replete with hair-pulling, biting, and a kiss-and-make-up finale.

Later, in a stunning but ill-fated display of versatility, Adam came out from behind the drums to sing a Misfits song while Chepo parked himself on the stool behind the skins. Just as Adam hit the oh-oh-ohs of the chorus, Chepo vanished. One second he was drumming, and in a blink, he was gone. He’d tumbled backward off his stool and through the curtain behind him, into the beer storage area that doubles as the backstage. But Chepo’s a pro. He was back on the stool and on the beat before half the drunks had even noticed he was gone, ignoring the blood that ran down his arm from the busted beer bottle that broke his fall.

Meanwhile, in the back of the bar, Bettie Rage and Electra Blu wrassled and rolled between the tables, squabbling over some real or imagined slight. There’s a photo of the Kodak moment that nicely juxtaposes Bettie Rage’s sweetly innocent mary jane pumps with the cocked fist she’s got aimed at Electra Blu’s nose. While the two of them scrabbled for the upper hand, a circle of jeering, frothing fans egged them on as Pixie, with a furtive glance around to make sure no one was going to stop her, poured an entire beer onto Bettie Rage’s head. Later that night, Pixie’s pink and black fuck-me pumps went MIA. They materialized at the Playland bout two days later, perched atop a 6-foot-tall speaker that only a select few of our league members could possibly reach. I have suspicions about the identity of the kidnapper.

That night—that infamous, Karaoke Apocalypse night—even I, Miss I’ve-Never-Been-In-A-Fight, got into a rumble of my own. In my defense: I take my tambourine playing very, very seriously. Cheap Trixie should know better than to fuck with my tambourine.

At 2:15, the now-clothed Longbranch owner turned on the overhead lights and ordered us to get the hell out. I’ve heard rumors that the party continued at a gentlemen’s club.

I took my clipboard and headed home.