It feels like we've been working on this LP for a decade until I get off my lazy ass and check my Harry Potter calendar. Nope. Just over two months now. And, for all intents and purposes, it's out of our hands.
See, right now, the LP is being assembled somewhere under the expert guidance of the folks at Pirate's Press. They do a lot of stuff in Prague, so it's nice to know that even if I don't, our CD gets a vacation. I hope it brings back a nice chandellier, or at least some ass-tight vinyl pants. But I don't think it will.
(Weird tangent: The aforementioned Pirate's Press, who've printed everything for us since the dawn of the monster, is actually headed by an old high school friend of Dave & mine. Our EP was actually the first thing they ever slapped together. The weirdness is that after Eric at Pirate's printed the EP, I went home to hang out with my folks and revel in my surrounded-by-the-elderly upbringing and found, of all things, a disposible camera, once owned by Eric at Pirate's...from our high school grad night. Pictures of me with a bowl cut? I'm sure they're in there. Yet, as I write this, I have yet to get the little bastard developed. That's my project for tomorrow. So Eric, if you're reading this, prepare for the madness)
The moral of the story is that now, we wait. We approved the mastered tracks, the sequencing, the spaces between songs, the artwork, the whole goddamn kit and kabootle, and now...well...let's just say I won't be sleeping.
Speaking of mastered tracks, we switched out the unmastered myspace songs to now mastered myspace songs. The difference is glaring and gigantic to me, but I've also heard each song roughly three trillion times, so you may not be able to tell. Either way, they're right here, for your ears, your friend's ears, and the ears of your neighbor if you play it loud enough. Also, I have it on good authority that Ted at BAGeL Radio will be playing a song or two tomorrow during his live show, which got me through many Fridays of office chair indentured servitude.
And, no. Right now, I have no job. I've managed to spend a grand total of $6 in the last three days, which is a triumph for a man like me, who happens to be both a pack-rat and an impulse buyer. I'm the reason they put Butterfingers on the check-out stand, mister. Blame me. Of course, food & booze are running low and the inside of my room is just not that exciting anymore. I think I'm going to go into our bomb shelter, crack open some Spam, and pass out in a salty-faux-meat-induced coma. Now that, my friends, is a plan.