thehefner | the night before. just like all the other nights before.

When I want a short way to describe this hippie community to people, I say, "When that whole 'Miracle on the Hudson' thing happened, they held a candlelight vigil for the bird." That sums 'em up pretty well. :)

Which reminds me, when said 'Miracle' happened, my brother called me up. I was in Tuscaloosa, in the midst of having a ridiculously-successful Daniel Day-Lewis movie trilogy marathon with

bitemetechie, and as such I hadn't been watching the news. Edd, over the phone, explained, "Yeah, apparently one of the engines got obstructed by a BIRD BIRD BIRD, THE BIRD IS THE WORD, BUH-BUH-BUH-BIRD BIRD BIRD, THE BIRD IS THE WORD...!"

If Edd taught me anything, it's that brilliance and obnoxiousness sometimes go hand in hand. Maybe that's why I consider JACKASS performance art. Seriously, some day, I'm just gonna do an entire dissertation on why Johnny Knoxville and crew are some of our generation's truly great performance artists. Anyone who doesn't believe me clearly hasn't seen JACKASS NUMBER TWO. Tee hee hee.

Okay. Gotta get serious. Going up tomorrow, first show of Frigid. I need to get pumped.

No. No, that's not doing it.

Shit. Even that's not getting me pumped. I need major pumpage here, people! I need to feel like I could kick Galactus in the junk! Come on, internets, WHAT. HAVE. YOU. GOT?!

Damn skippy, commune-full-o'-hippies. I am gonna monologue the fuck outta this shit.

Tomorrow. After sleep. Which will not be coming for hours yet. Ding-dang it.