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a very important message.

If you eat in public by yourself--be it Wegman's, Panera, a diner, Daly's, or anywhere else--bring an iPod, a book, or something to distract you from the seemingly innocent or inane conversation around you.

Trust me on this. 

The slow, heartfelt, Poison-esque ballad on my album is going to be called "Smelling Like a Two-Dollar Whore Does Not Make You Pretty (Inside or Out)."

Because people don't need to marinate.  Even if it is Chanel No. 5.  Especially not when you obviously have access to a working shower.

12th Jul, 2007

Andy Dunlop said "Hi!" to me.  Fran Healey touched me.

Since I'm probably going deaf anyway, I might as well spend twenty-four hours rocking my ears off to the best Scotland has to offer, and that, my friends, is Travis.

They rock like none other.
1) Bob  Evans has bought the farm.

2) Whenever I see antipasto or antipasti on a menu, I always read it as "the anti pasta," as in "under NO circumstances is this going to support pasta, BITCH!"  I know that this "anti-" comes from "ante," and I know that antipasto loosely means "before the food," but still.

Antipasta.  Sort of like the Anti-Christ, only the Antipasta is an agent of ninjas (the hereditary enemies of pirates), who are out to destroy the FSM.  If you want to stop global warming, then don't give into the Antipasta.  The Antipasta wants you to order lots and lots of appetizers (especially half-priced ones served after ten).  Don't give into temptation! His Noodley Appendage wants you to order entrees only, ye depraved hors d'oeuvre eaters!

(If you ever watch me read a menu at an Italian restaurant, you'll notice I become very quiet.  That's because this battle is waging in my thoughts, and I'm silently asking the FSM to give me strength.)

(I could probably end this by only eating at Bob Evanses, out of respect for the late Mr. Evans. May he rest in peace.)

(...down on the farm.)

8th Apr, 2007

Happy Easter, my friends.

Here is a bunny.
If you haven't thoroughly investigated the Rider Shadow for 2006 (or if you haven't received it), then you missed this gem from our illustrious Canadian: "One of my colleagues wrote, universities nurture and train each successor generation..."

quotations and ellipses are mine, mostly because it goes on to dickens-like proportions, only sans the implied sexybritishaccent.

but yeah, there's your answer to "why do you SUCK at administrative stuff, rider?"

edit:feliz navidadCollapse )


...or at least, the teaser. Squee all the same.

australia is love.

Another quick, list-y type post because I should be in bed by now, but there are some things that are too awesome not to post.

So, Friday: Interview in the City. Went well, but I shan't comment now and ruin my concert buzz. I was also whisked away for some late night South Jersey dinering.

Saturday: Halloween parties at Lacey's and Darrah lane. Went as a 1930 style journalist (fedora, high waisted skirt, and my grandmother's trench).

Today (Sunday): My most sexcellent Twin and I went to TLA for show. South Street is happy times. Could totally still feel the Sexy that was there last night for Dresden Dolls. Anyway, John Ralston is FUCKING AMAZING and ADORABLE! Ben Lee was EQUALLY AMAZING and ADORABLE. We got glittered on, twinz0rz got ten trillion indie points (and is even more indier than you), and we each own an autographed copy of John's CD because he's that good and that sweet. Happy all around. It's impossible to go to a Ben Lee show and (a) not see the most incredible opening acts, and (b) not leave without feeling that everything and everyone is beautiful.