Castor Oil...sickeningly good

Monday, July 03, 2006

The sound of chainsaws in the morning

Damn, the mansion on the hill got hit by something called a "microburst"!

We have a twisted up tree with some branches that got split right down the middle, it's pretty crazy. Lots of twigs and about a zillion or two leafs blowing twixt and hither, (not to mention yon), but compared to the neighbors we got off light.

See, Jesus really loves me best but he had to at least make a show of being impartial, hence the cosmetic damage.

Speaking of Jesus, the Flowers in the Attic gang at the top of the road who have a nativity scene up from Halloween to Easter each year got hit the hardest. Guess they need to pray more fervently.

Things are good with the band, we're playing this Friday at the luuurvely Velvet Lounge in the murderous heart of D.C. It will be the first time Saint John, (my exalted and wholly too Abercrombie and Fitch modle looking for his age older brother), will have ever seen me play in a full bandito situation. I'm looking forward to working out all my post-adolescent insecurities in that regard. Hopefully I can exorcise the pain of a million whistle or lose it titty twisters delivered by him in the formative years and move forward with a less psychically painful life.

In other news I want to murder a twitty Englishman who spends his days wearing Adidas shorts and yelling at little kids. He's a cock. I'm glad England lost to Portugal, I hope he cried like a kicked dog.

I saw "Annie" at WolfTrap last night. That's right, rock and roll motherfuckers.

It's a hard knock life indeed.


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