Friday, March 18, 2005
I went downtown after work on Thursday and picked up the new Archer Prewitt cd and the Madvillainy album. I was worried that the Archer Prewitt cd might suck, just because I think Prewitt's Sof'Boy is awesome doesn't mean his music is going to be any good. A lot of the songs sound like a cross between George Harrison and Jimmy Page (on the part in Stairway to Heaven when he gets all wistful and reflective "OOOOHHH it really makes me wonder...").
I listened to the Prewitt cd when I mopped the kitchen floor and decided to tackle the grime in the bathroom. I'm not sure if bathrooms are the easiest room in the house to clean or the hardest. I think the mixture of dead skin, soap, hair, and dust is pretty repulsive, so it's probably the hardest room to clean while trying to hold down the contents of your stomach.
By the time 9 pm rolled around I felt that I had accomplished enough to be rewarded with bad television melodrama. 'Notice I didn't say tv. TV is a nickname, nicknames are for friends and television is no friend of mine.' I drank some heinekens. Drinking heineken on St Patrick's Day is the equivalent of a hate crime, it's like putting barbecue sauce on a falafel.
After the O.C. and Paul and I danced to the theme song from Magnum P.I., I went to Gus's Pub with Emily and Mike Day. I went inside, they didn't and just left me high and dry. They're excommunicated, sort of like what would happen if a Catholic priest had carnal relations.
The show was pretty good and I was pretty drunk. I only saw SS Cardiacs for 10 minutes, but already I was complaining that they played too long. It was pretty obvious I was going to turn good and bratty.
Susan Read, longtime friend and the daughter of my junior high school principal, made her presence known, big mistake (on her part). I started telling her about the time that I took a replica gun to school and my friend started pointing it at other students. Her dad sort of lost his shit, but went easy on us when he found out that it wasn't real. He did call us stupid, but as far as I know never told my dad. If it had been a couple of years later (post Columbine), I'm sure we would have spent a year in counselling.
Windom Earle played and holy shit they were good. When they made a mistake, I told them that that college bullshit didn't fly in university. The Salads and the Trews didn't make to where they are today, by fucking around and acting all college and shit.
I listened to the Prewitt cd when I mopped the kitchen floor and decided to tackle the grime in the bathroom. I'm not sure if bathrooms are the easiest room in the house to clean or the hardest. I think the mixture of dead skin, soap, hair, and dust is pretty repulsive, so it's probably the hardest room to clean while trying to hold down the contents of your stomach.
By the time 9 pm rolled around I felt that I had accomplished enough to be rewarded with bad television melodrama. 'Notice I didn't say tv. TV is a nickname, nicknames are for friends and television is no friend of mine.' I drank some heinekens. Drinking heineken on St Patrick's Day is the equivalent of a hate crime, it's like putting barbecue sauce on a falafel.
After the O.C. and Paul and I danced to the theme song from Magnum P.I., I went to Gus's Pub with Emily and Mike Day. I went inside, they didn't and just left me high and dry. They're excommunicated, sort of like what would happen if a Catholic priest had carnal relations.
The show was pretty good and I was pretty drunk. I only saw SS Cardiacs for 10 minutes, but already I was complaining that they played too long. It was pretty obvious I was going to turn good and bratty.
Susan Read, longtime friend and the daughter of my junior high school principal, made her presence known, big mistake (on her part). I started telling her about the time that I took a replica gun to school and my friend started pointing it at other students. Her dad sort of lost his shit, but went easy on us when he found out that it wasn't real. He did call us stupid, but as far as I know never told my dad. If it had been a couple of years later (post Columbine), I'm sure we would have spent a year in counselling.
Windom Earle played and holy shit they were good. When they made a mistake, I told them that that college bullshit didn't fly in university. The Salads and the Trews didn't make to where they are today, by fucking around and acting all college and shit.
