Thursday, February 16, 2006

Paging Dr. that was a terrible movie

San Francisco is a funny place. About a year ago, we banned cigarettes in public parks, but not golf courses, while yesterday we shut down a golf course because of some endangered frogs hang out there. The obvious answer? Make sure to give the frogs some nice cuban cigars. Then everyone's pissed off.

Hundreds of miles south, Brad continues carving songs like they were a roast beast in Whotown. He is most likely not surrounded by cigar-smoking frogs. Last night, we got the final mix of our fourth song, which put the album at thirteen minutes and fifty two seconds so far, on it's way to the mid forties, with twelve tracks over all---a dozen, without the extra cruller thrown in for good measure. Although, strangely enough, we've been waffling about adding this weird little ditty we did in Brad's living room to the album for a week, so we actually get the baker's dozen after all. I remarked a few weeks ago that 13 songs was certainly bad luck, until Zach reminded me that Fugazi's first album is actually called "13 songs" which shut my fat mouth good and proper. In fact, I should listen to Waiting Room right now.

Well. That was a good idea. Of course, I listened to it on these earphones I got at Radioshack, which in the last week have proved the law of Radioshack, that being: "All things bought at Radioshack will either break, explode, or electrocute you within ten weeks of purchase." If you see Terry Bradshaw, punch him in the face for me.

In fact, why do I even own these things? The left earphone works maybe thirty of the time I use it. I'm going to go Gallagher on these things. Nurse, pass the sledgehammer.

Today, we're all waiting for song five. It's a mystery as to what it will be and I like surprises, so it's all gravy. The one we got yesterday is (amazingly enough) still unnamed, even though it's the oldest song on the album. In fact, it's the third song we ever wrote. You'll never hear the first one if you ain't heard it already, while the second song, well, it's the last one on the EP. I love that one.

Now, we try & get a van. Either that or a team of highly trained, extremely fast sherpas. Maybe some sort of man-cheetah hybrid. That'd be nice. You know any place we can find those?


Dahlgren's Daddy said...

In the interest of former NFL stars hawking Radio Shack, it's Howie Long you punch in the snoot not Terry Bradshaw.

Dahlgren's Daddy

birdmonster said...

Shit. You're right. However, my point still stands, to wit: If you see Terry Bradshaw, please punch his face. Supercuts is the barbershop equivalent of Radioshack.

chikunjen said...

I love snowy plovers!

birdmonster said...

I don't see what snowy plovers have to do with anything. And for the record, they should be eradicated.