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Alright, let's all be sad that Johnny Cash died.
I almost had myself convinced that I should go see Reverend Horton Heat at the Showbox tonight, but I decided that there was no way that I could get my shit together and find out where the Showbox is in time. Instead, I'm just going to play "Galaxy 5000" and "Marijuana" over and over until my neighbors riot.
So Doug left his copies of the Weekly and The Stranger at work, and this means I read them, and this means that you all get to hear about the things that I want to see. First, let's all be entertained that The Apartment is playing at the Grand Illusion this week. I seriously (heart) that movie. And and and...Measure for Measure -and- Moon for the Misbegotten are starting this week!
I love the theatre. I should be a gay man.
Further, Jonny Lang will be here Oct. 29. Yes, it is uncool of me...but I'm a sucker for the blues. And Ween will be here Oct. 1. I don't know if I'm hardcore enough anymore for a Ween show, but I'm willing to try.
I think that if this car thing doesn't take too long on Sunday I'm going to try and toddle off to the Jazz Festival. I'm also a sucker for jazz...and Toby, if you even think of making a single Nate reference, I'm walking to Boston specifically to kick your ass.
Hay-den, move out here -right now- so we can go see Rocky Horror. I'll be Brad (asshole) and you can be Janet (bitch).
I've been having this desperate craving for Gene Kelley movies lately. I don't know what it is. Must be the weather. Soon enough my couch, a cup of tea, and I are going to have a date with Gene.
In honor of the vaguely crisp weather, I bought long-sleeved shirts today. One of them is brown, which is the new gray, unless Paul's fashion sense has changed again without telling me.
Oh and -guess- who is studly and located herself another Holzer balsa postcard?
Jude and Val sent me some fairy temporary tattoos that are so cool they make me want to go get them for real.
I'm smilin and I'm not tellin why.
I almost had myself convinced that I should go see Reverend Horton Heat at the Showbox tonight, but I decided that there was no way that I could get my shit together and find out where the Showbox is in time. Instead, I'm just going to play "Galaxy 5000" and "Marijuana" over and over until my neighbors riot.
So Doug left his copies of the Weekly and The Stranger at work, and this means I read them, and this means that you all get to hear about the things that I want to see. First, let's all be entertained that The Apartment is playing at the Grand Illusion this week. I seriously (heart) that movie. And and and...Measure for Measure -and- Moon for the Misbegotten are starting this week!
I love the theatre. I should be a gay man.
Further, Jonny Lang will be here Oct. 29. Yes, it is uncool of me...but I'm a sucker for the blues. And Ween will be here Oct. 1. I don't know if I'm hardcore enough anymore for a Ween show, but I'm willing to try.
I think that if this car thing doesn't take too long on Sunday I'm going to try and toddle off to the Jazz Festival. I'm also a sucker for jazz...and Toby, if you even think of making a single Nate reference, I'm walking to Boston specifically to kick your ass.
Hay-den, move out here -right now- so we can go see Rocky Horror. I'll be Brad (asshole) and you can be Janet (bitch).
I've been having this desperate craving for Gene Kelley movies lately. I don't know what it is. Must be the weather. Soon enough my couch, a cup of tea, and I are going to have a date with Gene.
In honor of the vaguely crisp weather, I bought long-sleeved shirts today. One of them is brown, which is the new gray, unless Paul's fashion sense has changed again without telling me.
Oh and -guess- who is studly and located herself another Holzer balsa postcard?
Jude and Val sent me some fairy temporary tattoos that are so cool they make me want to go get them for real.
I'm smilin and I'm not tellin why.
