The Harlot House

music for sluts by sluts

	[15 Sept 2005\|6:57pm]
The Harlot House was born on a dreary November morning in West Chester, Pennsylvania while I sat alone in my dormitory, tired, bored and sick of school. Most of my close friends had, by this point, moved off campus, but I was stuck behind as a Resident Assistant because I desperately needed the money. I was the epitome of the super-cool RA, however, placed under my care were the metal garbage bin-dropping (out of the 5th floor window), trash throwing (down the 9th floor stairwell), public-masturbating freshmen of 2002. Wow. Lucky me. The position was putting a strain on my academic career as well as my general mental health, and the pull on me to become the Wayne Hall Concentration Camp Coordinator was great. Eventually it came down to just that-- It was Sleepers. And I was Kevin Bacon. Well, other than the horrifying abuse and mistreatment of little boys-- there was little of that. Also, none of my residents have grown up and shot me. This is probably a bad example. I decided that the best way to retain partial sanity would be to pretend people were interested in reading my contribution towards a greater creative outlet. Since I couldn't think of any creative outlets that I wouldn't feel dirty writing for, I decided to start my own. The Harlot House was originally intended to be a printed media, but when I started to think about publishing costs and the entire cutting and pasting and paper cuts... blah! I opted for a webzine. I've always considered myself somewhat of a connoisseur of song and unimportant, pretentious, obscure, music trivia and indier-than-thou facts, although, actually, I'm more nearly full of crap. Regardless, I typically tend to think my opinion is more important and more substantial than the next wannabe music columnist, as well as a more interesting read. I was fortunate enough to have good friends along the way who wanted to help me in my endeavors (probably for the complimentary logo tee). A childhood-friend-recently-turned-business-analyst, Katie Black, stepped aboard as a writer and assisted with editing. A jaded MIT explosives expert, Bryan Cord, lent his talents in a satirical advice column that, along the way, made us famous for eating disorders and general controversy. Dave Earl also contributed a huge part to the content and the two of us ending up taking The Harlot House in a whole new direction of dissent through modification, aka branching out, aka evolution, baby. To make a long story short and relatively simple, Both Dave and myself had worked independently as promoters and when teamed together, The Harlot House was quickly established as a dominating booking force in the Pittsburgh and surrounding areas independent music scene. Despite this success and its established roots, and despite The Harlot House being my metaphorical next-of-kin, I decided western PA wasn't really for me and spent the next 18 months in Alaska, California and New Zealand. I returned to Pennsylvania for the first time for only a brief stint in August of 2005, and it cannot be predicted when I'll make that trip once more. Dave is still doing shows in the area, but I've decided to return focus to the original purpose of the Harlot House and [ir]regularly post musical anecdotes and commentary, as well as all things relating to piracy or trampolines. Your contributions are welcome. I do hope that you enjoy what the Harlot House has to offer. If you came here looking for some bargain bin love, I am sorry to disappoint (ACTUALLY EMAIL ME AND WE CAN TALK OKAY BUT NOT ON HERE MY MOM MIGHT READ IT). However, If you came here looking for the wrong direction, welcome! Perhaps I can point you to it. Jennifer Humphreys