TURN BASED

23:41

blarghety blarg:

The gig went about as well as gigs can go. We have been invited back to play on a Friday or Saturday. A strange, intoxicated black waif wandered onstage during our set to light a candle, and then later returned to do some sort of strange twirling dance on the floor in front of the stage. She was later heard talking very loudly to no one in particular about how she should be eating fried chicken with her legs open. To the band that played before us she said, "You ain't nothin but chitlin. I'll turn you into women." (They were actually a young group of english-accent-affecting Californian d00dz.)

I must have grown a pair of horns out of my forehead or something because people have been staring at me all day.

It was nice getting some sleep o nthe weekend, but mostly it just makes it harder to go back to not sleeping very much. It makes me want to neglect everything and sleep. Hyrgh. Back to work, everybody. work work work work. work work.

(And go to the dentist.)