Homeward Bound. Sort of.

I'm on a computer with a barely functioning "n" key. Gerunds and other "n" heavy words will be strategically ignored or accidentally misspelled. Be wary.

Tomorrow, Zach & I hop into (which was just "ito", by the way) the birdvan and depart for home sweet home. LA, we'll miss you and your smoggy, near nuclear sunsets. Au revoir. Both of us are pretending that the birdvan trip will be free of radiator catastophe, but of course, you never know. Anyway, Pete & Dave will remain behind so that Peter can sing and Dave can sit in a big comfy chair (alright, and also play guitar), then they follow us up in a nearly equally fucked automobile, also known as Peter's car. Then, it's Wednesday, for free, at the Mezzanine. Back to San Francisco. I can almost smell the foggy homelessness. It smells like victory.

Aw.

So...I guess this is goodbye. Sort of. I'm thinking about keeping up the blog, in fits and spurts until the album is actually done, which we're hoping is around February 22nd, followed by printing which, god willing, will happen with suave alacrity and come out sometime in March. So, yeah, I'll keep writing. But that might just be drunken, post-show at 3:30 a.m. Justin talking. Pay him no heed.

All in all, thanks for reading when you did. Hopefully, the pointless ramblings (
"rambligs"?) and pictures kept you interested enough to check out the CD. I mean, it's pretty good. But that's our little secret.

I best get some sleep. I've got a long day of van-pushing, gatorade drinking, and listening to music that isn't Birdmonster tomorrow. If there are missing "n"s, poorly constructed senteces, or mongoloid style mispeak, forgive me. I blame the fine people at Sapporo.

You know what? There's a few random thoughts that will surface when my brain and motor skills regai their former glory tomorrow, but after a long van odyssey, I'll doubtfully be in a mental place to write it. So, I'll throw one up later this week. Blogging, god bless it, is quite fun. It's like the cigarette of the internet world, if only the cigarette of the internet world wasn't watching people embarrass themselves.

Good night.