Turns out the Warriors are kick-ass. With the notable exception of Mike Dunleavy, who is basically a corpse who gets paid the GNP of a small island nation to look frightened and lost for a half hour each night. The great part: there were several other people in our section heckling him. I call those people soulmates.
As you might remember, we four birdmonsters attended the Warriors game last night instead of eating Matzo ball soup or watching LOST and goddamn if it wasn't a good time. My only complaint: $7.50 for a plastic bottle of Budweiser. That's like paying $300 for a Egg McMuffin. I think it's actually prosecutable.
Alright. Enough about that. I should give everyone a rough timetable as far as shipping is concerned, so here goes: If you ordered within the United States, the post office is saying it should take three to five days. So probably by Saturday or Monday, you should be holding what you ordered---and, if I can digress momentarily, make sure you fondle the CD. Really. It actually feels nice. We decided to not go the jewel case route, which means three things: no misplaceable booklet, no annoying sticker-thingie on top, and fancy ink. So fondle away. Ok: now, if you ordered from somewhere across the Atlantic, they're telling us it will take between seven and ten days, but, for a buck fifty shipping, that's not too bad. All presales we got by Tuesday night were sent out Wednesday morning. And please, please, please: give us feedback when you get them, as you all will be the very first people to receive on, except a few folks I live with, work with, and otherwise pester, and, well, we're curious.
Today is one of those less exciting days. With the LP out & shipped, the product of the last four months of our lives in our hands, we've now got the to do all that boring stuff we've been ignoring with style and grace. Like van maintainance. Right now, the tires on our new friend are Patrick-Stewart-bald and the brakes are broken. Everything above the wheels though: top notch. Other than that, the crap we have to do is so bland I can't even make half-funny jokes about them, so I'll spare you the details.
Tomorrow: we're giving away some tickets to our CD release show. I promise some silly contest that we can all use to amuse ourselves on a slow, slow Friday morning. Stay tuned.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
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8 comments:
You should name the van itself Patrick Stewart. Then when new people get in you can blast his one man A Christmas Carol all in their face. I think my parents have a copy. I'll pick it up next time I'm in Los Gatos. Jean Luc Picard and Charles Dickens (who I am well aware of your thoughts on). If that's not high society, I don't know what is. Certainly not that eponymous porno mag.
All genius aside, if you haven't a new name already, think about it. Recycling Birdvan would put you on par with Elton John when changed the lyrics to "Candle In The Wind" real quick when he thought no one was looking. Bad company indeed (we're talking about the dead here).
Best. Name. Ever. The only drawback will be my ravenous desire to speak in a bad accent & make Star Trek jokes. And Brett, even if no one agrees with us, it'll always be Patrick Stewart to us.
obviously the release show tickets must be given away in a van naming contest
i hope this doesnt mean the end of the album blog.
Aw, Derek. We're touched. I'm going to keep this thing going for as long as I can. It's been fun and it helps me remember what the hell we've actually been doing since January. So that's a plus.
Van naming contest! Yes!
This is why I like comments. Dinosaurs know the score.
I'd say that qualifies as "positive feedback." Thanks, the-man-who-was-once-but-is-no-longer Mike. Remind us at SJ Skate you want to hear Spaceman. We have another show that afternoon, so we're sure to be loopy.
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