Oh boy

One thing i can say

one thing i can say about oysterhead (that supergroup of sorts, with trey anastasio from phish, les claypool from primus, and stewart copeland from the police) is that they're really talented, and really tight. that's about all i can say, though.

i managed to tear myself away from the ether that is the internet today, instead running all manner of errands (note: at this rate, i will actually be registered for classes by about june), and finally burying my nose in a good book (this one, if you're curious).

but obviously, since i neither worked nor did much of anything, i really don't have much to share--not even the earlier-promised greetingwishes letter. i'm very sorry, but i wasn't feeling very virulent today.

odd and rather amusing (in a bad, bad way) story of the day: editor, please.

oh boy.

today was a good musical

today was a good musical day for me. instead of actually eating lunch during, well, lunch, i went over to the music store. found a van pelt album (stealing from our favorite thieves) and a versus album (two cents plus tax). both fine albums, and i paid less than fourteen bucks for the pair. marvelous.

speaking of which, when i got back to work, i of course listened to them on the lab's stereo while i worked. the girl i was working with--who until now has only shown love for old jazz (grade: a-), new r 'n b (grade: d+, improved only by her acknowledgement that maxwell is a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stagnant genre), and random songs we've heard on the radio (grade: c)--really got into the van pelt album. a snippet of conversation between us:

me: so you really like this [referring to the van pelt album]?

her: yeah, i do.

me: hm.

her: i like rock music, as long as they're not worshipping satan.

me: that's a good policy.

her: [after about thirty seconds] or perversion. i don't like perversion.

me: again, a good policy.

and now, a list of photographic subjects i'm really tired of seeing, and would like to ban indefinitely.

i believe that this list was prompted by the biggest photo faux pas (yeah, alliteration!) ever, in my mind. actually, i should say it's the biggest interior design faux pas ever. i developed christmas pictures for some rich family (not the least common pictures i see, by the way). while marvelling at a picture of a gentleman, eyes wide at the prospect of owning another human being's soul (yeah, yeah, it was probably tickets to some ski resort, but i prefer to think it was the former), i noticed a pillow in the background. said pillow, sitting on a chair that probably cost more than my car, had the following statement embroidered on it:

god created saint louis, but he lives in frontenac.

for those who do not know, frontenac is an incredibly snooty and rich suburb of st. louis. in fact, it is number 197 on the list of the richest towns in america. so, being a resident of university city, one of the middle-class regions of the gateway city, i was a little miffed at the content on this pillow. not only does this dipshit have the gall to maintain that the town he calls home is the home of god based only on the fact that everyone who lives there is fucking rich, but he had it stitched on a fucking pillow.

dear lord.

and yes, i realize that it was probably a joke. but there are two problems there. one, it was a really twisted joke. and two, it might not have been that much of a joke.

martha stewart was on conan o'brien this evening. (yes, i know it was a repeat, as conan is currently honeymooning, but it was the first i had seen of it) high points: conan admitting to martha that he thought she was sexy, and seeing her eat a wendy's triple bacon cheeseburger and washing it down with a shot of jack daniel's.

anyway, going to bed now. oh, and i got another e-mail from, so you can look forward to another letter. probably tomorrow.