argh.
i really want to update this thing, and either am too busy too tired or too pragmatically lacking in verbal spark.
but a thought just occurred: does the fact that I type this self-complaint about not updating you, in some way, constitute an “update?”
Now my head hurts.
If you think I’m wrestling with that one, don’t worry. I’ve tapped out. Twice.
Say, what are you doing this weekend? I think the first thing I’m going to do is work on my to do list. Adding, editing, crossing off, modifying to a point, sculpting that little list which is always dressed in some bullish dominatrix outfit. And not in a good way. This list thinks and acts on its own. Can’t call it self-flaggellation if I give it a personality, yes?
Flanders birthday is on Sunday. And he’s still stupid and sexy.
My voice is almost back. Wait, I didn’t tell you? ugh. See, that’s why I have to do a re-cap before blogging for now reason. Now things are out of sequence. But, perhaps you’ll enjoy the non-linear time line like you enjoyed Vincent Vega getting blasted by Bruno’s gun, only minutes later to walk into that diner with Jules and, unknowingly, Honey Bunny and Ringo (Pumpkin).
So at least you have that to look forward to.
Posting pictures of performance at the Whisky in the next couple of days. Getting close to announcing the CD release date.
And?
Um, well I made a pork shoulder roast last night, but it was too late to really enjoy it. So, tonight? I’m going to really enjoy it.
tah times2
