Planet of snot

Ugh. Wicked cold. It hurts my lungs to sneeze. TO SNEEZE! For fucks sake. Not that you care, nor should you. I wouldn’t. Anyhow, I’ve been asked by management to take a time out for about a week or so. I’d written a long post entitled “Searching for Optimus Prime” about the state of our government, and assigned characters to politicians (I’m not going to tell you who Star Scream was and who was Replay). Anyhow, bottom line, I’ve been told that I’m writing too much while fucked up on cold medicine. (true, true.)
So, if you see me hanging out somewhere, feel free to buy me a drink and tell me how much you miss me.
Before I clock out for the week, I have a couple of treats for you.

The Da Vinci Code is not well liked so far. (“A jumbled, joyless affair that neither entertains nor enlightens”.)

The guitar player you DON’T care about from Guns n’ Roses joined the band for three songs. Whooopee.

Austin City Limits Festival: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Van Morrison, Gnarls Barkley, Aimee Mann, The Raconteurs, the freshly Webvomit hyped The Secret Machines and… SPARTA?? Really? Awesome. I love it.




One Thing I Know For a Fact:
The word of the day is “gunt”. I’m not giving a definition. Use your damn imagination.