Monday, June 26, 2006

Brother, my cup is empty

Anyone else sick of the rain yet? I've finally reached a point where I really don't care. I don't even bother trying to stay dry. Being aquatic isn't really all that bad.

In fact, I'm so over it, I can't even muster the enegry to bitch about it.

I heard today that the NEG will be taking a Duck Tour on July 22nd. I'm so there! Just thinking about one of those duck boats tooling around Boston filled with stormtroopers cracks me up.

KG and I just finished watching "Airplane!" Now we're half watching some History Channel thing about the Klan. White people are pretty fucked up, yo.

So, I've bitched at length about my ass numbing, brain damaging commute. I've found a way to combat the soul crushing tedium, and tonight it is causing me angst.

Most days, if you happen to be stuck next to me in a traffic jam, you'll be treated to The Residents. Every so often, though, I'll pick one of my other favorite artists, and I'll spend as many days as it takes to make my way through their entire catalog, a day at a time.

The past weeks have been Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. I love Nick Cave. How much do I love him? I named my fucking kid after him! Anyhow... I'm in to the third week of this little project, and I'm in trouble. I can't find Murder Ballads anywhere!

So, not only is my whole chronological order thing screwed up, I also can't listen to one of my favorite albums of all times. That, incidently, includes the best line ever written in any song anywhere...

"I'm a bad motherfucker, don't you know
and I'd climb over 50 pussies just to get to one fat boy's asshole."

Not for everyone, me thinks.

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