*The views expressed in Truesday are those of the author and do not represent Austinist as a whole. Thank heavens.* -The Editors

Not sure if you know, and it’s entirely without import that you care, but I loves me some scenester party shit. Man, I’m totally all over that like a slurring Paris at the motherfuckin’ wheel. Regardless of where they go down, or who is “sponsoring” them. So I’m using my little weekly boo-yea wah-wah spot to bring you whatever lines I’ve got on the booze, the music, the excitement, the booze, the booze, the retro hairstyles, and the never-drying access to free booze. And yes, I know it’s September, not March. But that don’t stop the well-marked and marketed bottles that pop. It’s not quite the douche-storm debacle that we witness here during SxSW, but ACL certainly brings with it some opportunities to make public asses of ourselves.

And I’m not talking about how you’ll be dropping bombs in those prison toilet port-o-lets.

Well, actually, I guess I could be. But I’m also talking about the parties, my friends. The goodness.

Of course, the main draw for SxSW jamborees (beyond the frothy ocean of free sponsored booze, which I over-mention because of its weighty importance in my feeble and puerile existence), is the opportunity to see the newest, most-banginist yearly export that LA has to offer: deluded cokehead dickholes with more credit cards than chromosomes. I can’t wait to see if next March: their pant legs are even MORE constrictive than they’ve been in years past! Maybe some of their feet will go gangrene and just drop right off! Fashion moves in strange waves! It’s soooo curraaaazy!

But I know they’ll still be wearing those checkered Vans that look like they were covered in horse shit, bleach-speckled, and then passed through the metabolic system of a rabid wolverine. Goddamn I love those shoes.

Well, those fuckers and their brick-thick manes of Wingerhair can’t handle the typical 15 billion degrees of heat experienced during the days of ACL. Rumor has it that instead, they spend their time recovering from the full week they spend in the desert-sanded ooonce-ooonce tents of Burning Man.

Which totally sucks for those masses of poor techno-hippies who just want to be different and burn some weird shit in a barren wasteland without all the gangs of vapid, hanger-ons profiling in the periphery. Life can be so cruel.

And then, and then...

I finally get to my little party list. Nothing that I would plan on going to this coming weekend shall involve a cover charge (I haven’t seen actual cash in YEARS), so unless I state otherwise, entrance to all that is listed below is free.

THURSDAY –

We obviously have a little Austinist get-together going on at The Mowhawk. Yeah, that’s right. It’s called THE Mowhawk. THE. The one and only. Singular. A prime, lonely hairdo on the high plains of a post-apocalyptic, gasoline fetished, punk fuckin’ rock Australian Outback. Bartertown and shit.

Yeah, and so that should be pretty cool and whatnot. But we have to be all nonchalant about our own throw-down, so, you can go or not, because, whatever or some shit.

We’ll have the expected findings of any Pre-Festival Party: Coldplay was their usual “our pianos won’t fit on that bloody stage” selves, so we were like fuck it and convinced the best local talent to join in on our front-running of Attal’s heatstroke-in-a-dustbowl-fest*. Live bands outside, and DJs inside.

FRIDAY –

The guys with Teleport Door teamed up with Ceeplus and Crash Berlin for the Pop Yo Colla’ unofficial ACL after party over at Firehouse Lounge. Cee is a master selector and mover of music, who has one of the most impressive music collections I’ve ever seen. And the Teleportdoor guys never fail to impress. Now as for the flier? Don’t ask: I have NO idea what’s going on with the whole collar popping thing. I swore that evil habit ended (for the second time in my lifetime) a year ago. But I do really like the whole leather-fetish, molestache-ioed, Blue Oyster Bar dude on there. Man, that shit just can’t come back into style soon enough.

Factory People does the sorta-hat trick:

Early Friday evening, Factory People will begin hosting a photo exhibit by Aubrey Edwards: “Back Beat”. Edwards has been touring for the past several months and has created what is expected to be an extremely impressive collection of band photos. Exactly which bands? I’m not sure. Does it matter? Her work could revive The Static, Inert, Probably Animatronic Stones. This exhibit will run through October 31st, so feel free to relax and enjoy her perspective.

Along with the photography, Factory People is bringing back their DJ Sets By Rock Stars, from Friday to Sunday. And there’s booze involved. The idea is to get visiting rock stars and/or celebrities to slap some wax in the store during the daylight hours. Like a nice, air conditioned place where those of us who aren’t going to ACL can go for some one-on-one rock star action without the sun trying to murder us. Plus, there’s rumored to be Dos Equis that'll need to be dranked. I was told to check their site for visiting DJ schedules, but they don't appear to up just yet, so keep on checking or just drop in. (the beer should be cold all day long!)

[the following is an RSVP only event, email for details] Factory People is also throwing their hat in the break-down ring later Friday night, alongside one of my most favoritist Austin print publications, ever: Misprint. The first time I read Misprint, I swore I was reading something that my mind must have been writing and printing while the rest of me slept. Like Tyler Durden or some shit. But then I realized that they’re much more entertaining, don’t turn 200 words into 2000, and their spelling is on point.

So there’s no way my brain had anything to do with it.

This party is, according to the flier, “starring” MSTRKRFT (one-half of apparently defunct Death From Above 1979, which is a damned shame), which should be fucking crazy good. Then there’s Mr. I <3 Comix himself: DJ Franki Chan, along with Ceeplus (the same as from the Firehouse Lounge number earlier) and local hero Prince Klassen. I haven’t heard any news on the free booze situation, but they’ve never let me down in the past. I’d guess more Dos Equis as well as something with significantly higher alcohol content. You can count on this party being pretty insane. Plus, again, their pseudo arch-nemesis: Misfuckingprint is involved. I get wet just imagining this kind of shit. Not sure if this will work for anyone, but to get on the rsvp list, just email with a really creative reason why you should be VIP'd up in that piece (I recommend something involving either saving babies from fire, or doing coke with Aphex Twin). I wish I had a better lead on that party, but I just don’t.

SATURDAY –

More DJ Sets By Rock Stars during the daylight hours at Factory People, along with that free Dos Equis. Done and Drunk!

Some $5 at-the-door party at Beauty Bar that will involve I Love You But I’ve Chosen An Absurdly Long Name For This Band Will Totally Cover My Entire Guitar Case. Actually those dudes are pretty damn good live, and it might be worth the five bones. No free booze though, so that’s a more-than-probable deal killer even if I managed to hop the fence.

SUNDAY –

EVEN MORE DJ Sets By Rock Stars during the daylight hours at Factory People, along with that free Dos Equis. Done and Drunker!

Another $5 at-the-door party at Beauty Bar with bands I’ve never heard of, which might be really good and worth five bones, but I’ll probably be too broke and hung over to care.

If you’ve got a line on something worth crashing, let a brutha know in the comments.

*The fields have been HEAVILY watered this year, and are currently very plush and picnic ready. So all you masochists who will be out there this weekend, trying to die of exposure: do not slash-n-burn, mud-mosh, or otherwise fuck up the lawn for those of us who use it the other 362 days of the year. But, as usual, feel free to throw all 542,000 cig butts wherever.