04.04.05..9:04 pm

I'm turning 25 in ten days and am far more giddy about it than the usual midtwenties epistemological crisis usually appears to allow. I've so far got three or four things lined up to spread over the birthweek.

Had the weirdest weekend dooring at my various venues. On Friday I got screamed at for not being able to pay a band who brought in six people and was called a Cowboy, which excited me to no end, because, Hello! John Wayne? until I was informed that they meant along the lines of cowboy builders, aka scum of earth. And then on Saturday night the course of twenty minutes we had Suicide Boy ([with great dejection] 'Are there bands playing tonight?' Yep, we've got two more! [sighs heavily and face begins to crumble] 'Two? Just two... Two?.. There's no bar down here is there?' No, sorry about that. [biggest sigh in the world before tears start rolling down his face and he runs up the stairs]), a guy seeking the post of Resident Sound Engineer ('Could you turn the sound down, they're trying to sound check.' The sound engineer's in there. 'Yeah, but' And the sound booth. 'Yeah, but' It's fed through the monitors. 'Yeah, but' He's got it under control. 'Oh.'), and the Rogue Liar (Excuse me, have you got a stamp? 'Yes!' [catches us looking] 'I mean, no.' Are you on the list? 'Ye..es..? Yes. It's, uh, Bob. Uh. Smith.' [scan the list] No you're not).

I've been doing masses of research today, yesterday, Saturday and still feel like I've got nothing done. I need to get typing and stop reading other people's blogs. Maybe I could do a dissertation on that. It would required media shit, but I'm sure I could wing it. Haha.. someone's going to get so mad at that, WELL TOUGH SHIT ASSWIPE! I've been reading Lacan ALL DAY. I'm tired and I'm hungry and my brain feels like ants are moving in. Do not mess with me, thank you.

****meep, she means buisness