Rain? Rain? But it's October, dadgummit. October's always the unseasonably pleasant month on our usually foggy penninsula. I'm not going to take this sitting down. I've only got a few weeks back and I'm not spending them bemoaning the fact that all my shoes have holes in them. Thankfully though, the weekend promises to be beautiful. After all, we've got the Bluegrass Festival this weekend and Mother Nature plays a mean lap steel.
Now then: enough about the weather. That's what people talk about when they have nothing to talk about. It's the classic awkward first date conversation: "So, how 'bout that sunshine?" when he'd rather be saying "So, how 'bout you take off your shirt and/or pants?" We're going to move along. I don't want this to be any more uncomfortable than it already is.
A few random notes today:
- LOST was pretty good last night...ok, who am I kidding? I was giddy during the first twenty minutes. Perhaps it was the wine. Particularly enjoyed the beginning, where all the Others were living in that tropical Levittown and then the plane crashed and then, as we know, island-themed madness ensued. As usual: more weirdness, less answers. As usual: Jack is annoying.
- I just saw a pidgeon with a limp do the Crip Walk. I wish the guy from American Beauty could've been there. Bag in the wind, my ass.
- Apparently, there's a lunatic in Atlanta who wants her child's school to ban all the Harry Potter books under the premise that they "promote the Wiccan religion." Here's the part where we all shake our heads and look dissapointed. I think she also wants to ban Curios George, as he promotes mischief and Clifford the Big Red Dog because he promotes large canine redness. I know: let's just burn all our books and have our kids watch Judge Joe Brown seven hours a day. They'd certainly know a lot about unpaid bills, Devry, and conosolidating their debts into one easy monthly payment. I've sent her an email of undying support.
- There's a show at the Rickshaw you should check out tonight if you're a San Franciscan. The Ex-Boyfriends, our studio neighbors and all around wonderful musicians are playing with Bound Stems from Chicago. And it's Thursday so the weekend starts (unofficially) today. Everyone knows Friday is for aggressive avoidance of anything that remotely resembles work. Might as well do it with an earache and a hangover.
- Lastly, I'd like to give you some erudite political insight. Ignored in this whole Mark Foley debacle is the incontrovertable truth that Dennis Hastert is a scary fat man who looks like a cross between Jabba the Hut, a turtle, and Drew Carey.