It’s as humid as a New Orleans butt crack up here today. Oh, how I hate it. It’s still not hot, but there’s a general yuck in the air, which hints at the terribleness to come.
Yeah, it won’t be long before we have to lug the Soviet humbox window units up from the basement, and fill the house with a continuous roaring noise:
“Could you pass me the salt?”
“The salt! Pass the salt!!”
“Oh, I don’t know. Five or six.”
“Tomorrow, dammit! Tomorrow!!”
Not a fan of summer… Pass the Gold Bond medicated crotch blower.
Apparently I’ll be going to an ultra-rare rock show next week. I’m not the most spontaneous person at this point in my life (it takes too much energy), but Steve and I decided yesterday, all willy-nilly.
So, we checked our schedules (got the go-ahead from our wives) and ordered tickets. We bought them around six o’clock, and by the time I got home from work last night it was showing SOLD OUT. Did we get the last two? Excellent.
I don’t have the new Dolls album yet, but the previous one is great. And, of course, their stuff from the ’70s is iconic. Should be a fun show. Even though three of the original members are long-dead, including Johnny Thunders. But let’s try not to focus on the negative…
If the Eels tour this summer, which will probably happen, it’s very likely I’ll attend TWO shows in a single calendar year. Pretty good, huh? Who says I’m a pathetic old burn-out?
Speaking of phone conversations while driving, I spoke with Metten on Sunday while careening down Interstate 81. We’d never actually talked before, we’d only communicated through email and text messages. It was kinda surreal.
He said I sounded different than he thought I would. Maybe it’s because I was using my “sassy black woman” voice? I don’t know… Next time I’ll hit him with my “enthusiastic Chinese business-owner,” and maybe that’ll work better?
We were discussing who should write Monday’s post at Mockable. I volunteered, and cranked out this little morsel of ridiculousness in about thirty minutes. Funny thing, though. It’s one of my favorites so far.
A guy at my job reportedly won $100,000 with a scratch-off lottery ticket yesterday morning. Supposedly he showed up for work last night, and told his boss he wouldn’t be returning.
I’m not sure that’s the wisest move on his part. But what do I care?
And I need to stop right here. I’m all outta time. I don’t really have a formal Question today…
How about the last concert/show you attended? Any good? Also, have you ever met someone you’ve only known through email, or over the phone at work, and had them pictured completely wrong? Tell us about it. And finally, the lottery dilemma… Would you quit your job for $100,000 of found-money?
I’ll see you guys tomorrow.