Things I needed to know:
One of my favorite bands, Creeper Lagoon,
is coming out with an EP in December.
Things I did not need to know:
The frontman of Creeper Lagoon is named Sharky. Ew.
I guess basically the entire band left and now all that's left is the unfortunately named Sharky and a bunch of new guys. But all the new line-ups in the world cannot undo Take Back The Universe And Give Me Yesterday,"
which, like Jimmy Eat World's "Clarity," is a good album to put on when you're in a mood to be in a mood, not to mention just about the awesomest thing on wax. Or CD, in this case.
I stole the above picture from Chelsea H.,
and if she were still online I swear on a stack of Bibles I'd ask her permission before using it. But I'll just link her
three times instead. It features Chelsea W.
, who Tim thinks is just the hottest bunch of hot that ever hotted. And if pressed, I can't say I disagree. But there's the picture. You be the judge.
Trevor says Ramses,
like, Ramses pharoah-of-Egypt Ramses, fathered 160 children. Wow. Suddenly everything I've ever done seems painfully insignificant. Well, more insignificant.
I think all my friends need blogs, that way I never have to tell a story without linking anyone. And then I can sit around all day never going out scratching myself and eating candy, candy, candy. And blogging 'till my eyes atrophy. Glaiven.
This weekend I shoved the competition
one-act in my head. Did I mention that? I'm the lead in the competition one-act for Theatre Company, "Degas, C'est Moi" by David Ives. I'm a guy who wakes up and decides to be dead French impressionist painter Edgar Degas for a day. Another Chelsea plays my wife, because no facet of my life can go unChelsea-ed. So there was memorizing that, plus all the stuff I have to keep in my head for "Man Who Came To Dinner" in a couple of weeks. Not that I'm complaining, but I'm seriously starting to wonder if I'm pushing other things out in the process. My social security number, people's birthdays, which pedal makes the car go. On the plus, though, I get to say words like "picosecond," "vermillion," "unalloyed," and "insensibility."
Jesus P. Christ I'm a nerd. It's clear that I've had a couple of ridiculously attractive English teachers in high school, because otherwise I would've learned to stop loving words and start liking cars.
Note to Nature: I walked over to the middle school tonight in my little tiny shorts so I could go running when I could've just as easily driven over there and been much warmer, so don't say I never did anything for your typhoon-causing hippy-spawning evergreen ass.
You gotta show Nature who's boss sometimes. She tends to forget.
As the first step in the aformentioned plan
to get all my friends blogging, Trevor has one
now, thus proving that even Asian-looking whiteboys who I have to pick up tommorrow morning so we can go get breakfast burritos before rehearsal can do it, and so can you. Yes, you.
I looked in the mirror today
at Fry's because basically all I do there is go to the bathroom, walk around, bag some groceries, then walk around, then go to the bathroom, anyway, I looked in the mirror, and I had a big purple bruise above my left eye in between my eyelid and my eyelash, and a little bit of a beard because I haven't shaved in ever, and I said to myself, You, you are a God. You are a wrong-side-of-the-tracks, both rough AND tumble, God among men.
But I was also wearing my XL baggy workshirt that I bought when I was probably fifteen pounds heavier, and The Man wants me to pay ten bucks if I want a new one that fits better. Then later, I saw Hottest Girl ever driving a big white Cadillac in the Fry's parking lot. If my black eye and my stubble make me too handsome to resist,
I didn't say, I'll understand.
She said she got in a car accident and her grandma died. The Caddy was Grandma's. Poor Hottest Girl Ever. So I guess my weekend was summarily not all that bad.
Then she said she and her mom were on their way to their sister church for Sunday mass, a gospel service, but still, disheartening. Jesus always gets to 'em before I do.
Oh well. I'll have my day. I just have to keep not shaving.