An inch of snow is on the ground here, and you'd think we're living in fucking Siberia. Long underwear, woolen hat, steady stream of coffee and a hearty grimace.
It's Tuesday bitches, and as always, get your ass on down to the Smiling Moose tonight! It's a grand old time. More so, even, when you are there with us.
Thursday is up in the air, falling quickly. Wherever I land, you know I'm doing it with high speed and a style not seen in these parts since that one guy did it that one time when we were down at that place. You remember that? I do. It was awesome like yellow cake and 2% milk at one in the afternoon when you stayed home sick from high school.
Doing a show/open mic somewhere on Saturday. Information is forthcoming.
For some odd reason, both of my biceps hurt a bit today. Perhaps it was because I carried a heavy load of laundry up the narrow staircase from my basement a little awkwardly. Maybe I'm just a weakling.
Sarah Connor was pretty good last night. That balding guy with the beard from The West Wing guest starred and totally tore shit up. I may even be beginning to like Brian Austin Green a little(no homo!).
Three name hipster bands seem to be big these days. Band of Horses, Kings of Leon, The Hold Steady and a few others seem rock suitably, and are tolerable in small doses.
No one knows, and no one cares to ask.-BK
(Yeah, no videos today. Saddened? Imagine yourself on a boat by a river, with tangerine trees, and marmalade skies. Or something.)
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