Monday, November 17, 2003
So here I was, all ready to go make a jackass out of myself yet again at a club when suddenly, my right eye decides it's gonna pretend to want to explode. It felt like some dude had the thing between his thumb and index finger and that dude was pulling on it while another guy poked it with his fat pinky. It's particularly engaging when I'm trying to navigate Highland Avenue with all this going on the right side of my head. So yeah, that sucked. The battle inside my eye lasted about a couple of hours (take that, Grenada!) then drifted away right about the time "Hey Ya!" played. (Note: No matter what club you go to, they'll play Outkast's "Hey Ya!" These cats figured out the perfect single and everybody's doing their damnest to make you sick of it. So far so good though. Im...just being honest.)
When you wake up, drive backwards to your nearest record store, do a Rockford parking job, then buy these albums:
Chutes Too Narrow by The Shins
Give Up by The Postal Service
The latter band was briefly introduced to me by one friend then imbedded in my brain by another. So naturally I'm now smitten with this album. I don't know why these new synthy bands are doing it for me these days. They're certainly not as annoying as Depeche Mode used to be.
When you wake up, drive backwards to your nearest record store, do a Rockford parking job, then buy these albums:
Chutes Too Narrow by The Shins
Give Up by The Postal Service
The latter band was briefly introduced to me by one friend then imbedded in my brain by another. So naturally I'm now smitten with this album. I don't know why these new synthy bands are doing it for me these days. They're certainly not as annoying as Depeche Mode used to be.
