So which one of youse fell into a deeper hole is what I wanna know.

I never found the bottom, but we're going on another date this weekend.

Cool. And CC, a friend of mine owns the GOF book, so I have read and enjoyed most of the additional text. Maybe I'll buy it someday just to round out my theoretical future collection (the 'zines are the only things I've bought had bought for me), but right now I really just want these other two.

Really bummed that the first cookbook is no longer available. I know I had plenty of time to buy it, but I'm just now finally ready to and I'm too late.

I really liked that one too. Not as much as The Party from the same album. I don't much care for the rest of it.

Yeah, it's a little spotty. I mean, with an opener like that it's almost kinda unfair. If you're gonna set the bar that high that early in an album you better be ready to follow it up.

Still, the few that are solid are extremely solid.

don't judge me for being hungover on a Tuesday. Ordered an unusually floral Saison beer last night, and had to drink an extra IPA just to cleanse my pallet.

I would never judge anyone for being hungover on a Tuesday. However, you are only the second person I've ever heard of who could get a hangover from just two beers. The first was my damn grandma.

....that I went to borrow my uncle's car. It was huge. I mean, not as big as, like, Bigfoot, but much larger than a big-ass truck you'd see on the street. It was fitted with a huge apparatus that was like a cowcatcher but was actually a row of long, thick blades. When I tried to drive it away, I found that there were about eight pedals and none of them was a brake. So I'd start moving and then I'd just have to roll to a stop. The problem was, much like in real life, my uncle's property was rampant with feral cats and dogs. Only in the dream they were literally everywhere. Everytime I started moving, one would run out in front of the vehicle and there was nothing I could do to stop so I would just plow through whatever was in the way. Then I'd slowly roll to a stop, get out and go back to see if whatever I hit was OK. Of course, because I was driving an enormous truck with about twenty six-foot-long swords protruding from the grill, whatever I hit was invariably utterly ripped to pieces and smashed, though not always dead. Cats, dogs, deer, rabbits. This kept happening and every time I couldn't stop myself from getting out and seeing these horrific messes. Sometimes it would be entire animal families. Still squirming and kicking. Looking at me.

First nightmare in at least a year and the worst in several.

I do drunk posts all the time (certainly including right at this moment), but it's not so interesting because I still check my spelling and grammar pretty obsessively. I just polished off a 12 pack on an empty stomach and there isn't a single misspelling in this post. I'm the most boring drunk poster imaginable.

Fuck. How could I have forgotten "Christmas in Hollis?" What have I become?

Old news, but this video still gives me chills every time I see it.

And this is one that nobody seems to like but me. Don't know what it is, but it may be my favorite ever.

On the topic of Talking Heads, the performance of "This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)" from Stop Making Sense is a true thing of beauty. Looks like all traces of it have been washed from the 'tube, but if you haven't already seen that film you've got bigger issues to tackle than that.

And hey, why pass up an opportunity for shameless self-promotion? This is a video that my band made before we started scoring silent films exclusively. It was shot on a budget of about $20 (we were able to borrow some people and equipment which helped it look like more), but I think it turned out pretty OK.