( 10:16 PM )
The following handwritten letter was discovered among the windblown leaves on the grounds of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
Remember last Halloween when we ran out of candy so we gave out bouillon cubes, splenda packets, mini tampons, and IOU’s on slips of paper redeemable for Swedish massages? Yeah, well, I’ve been notified by authorities not to do that this year. Funny, my headaches stop every time I remove that wristband I use as a headband. So like I’m either gonna dress up as Harriet Miers with a picture of Bush’s lips pressed to my ass, or go as a longhaired metalhead bus driver wearing headphones that's always saying, “hey dude!” No, absolutely nothing even remotely like Otto from the Simpsons. Hey you should rethink your au pair costume. Girl, with your childbearing hips, wearing a yellow fruit suit just isn’t going to be sexy.
I carved a great pumpkin on my patch,
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“The Day of the Humans is Gone” Wendy O. Williams/Plasmatics 1987
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( 11:04 PM )
The following handwritten letter was found folded in the ass pocket of a girl passed out on the steps of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
There just doesn’t seem to be any groundswell for the sinkhole club. What am I supposed to do, let the uplifting depression slip through the cracks of my metaphysical metacarpus? Damn girl, your ass implants have stretched out my granny panties—now what am I supposed to wear for my Suicide Girls photo shoot? And for when I’m retaining big-time water? Hmm? You know people who throw glass houses shouldn’t live in throw rocks. Hey, is it true that rabid raccoons don’t have rabies? I can’t get enough of this infectious disease guy in my Procyonidae class named Rocky.
Coati, kinkajou, and cacomistle,
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“Neptune’s Convoy” Fu Manchu 1996
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( 11:36 PM )
Danielia Cotton is so fine.
I so want to rhyme about her, but I’m Caucasian.
If it weren’t for fellow 2 Walls writers gushing about her, I’d have never heard of her. Or gone to see her in concert. Well, I’ve seen her twice now, and sure she’s gorgeous and she’s a totally fantastic singer, but I’d like to give some credit to her band too.
They seem tight offstage as well as on. And you really have to be to some extent while traveling in a van together across the country.
Anyway, during a stellar Hendrixy version of “Red House” (real drawn out perfectly an all) and a killer cover of AC/DC’s “Back in Black,” her band kicked total ass. Again, don’t get me wrong, but like the fabric industry, Cotton is king. But when fame comes calling, and it will very soon, don’t forget about your boys.
I’ve said it before, but I believe Danielia Cotton is merely a big hit away from playing the late-night talk show circuit. Actually she already has a big hit, “It’s Only Life,” except the soundtrack coordinators over at the O.C. just haven’t heard it yet. Well, since I’ve now written it, perhaps I should consider it done? Like someone’s reading this.
Since I never issue shout–outs on this blog (Hi Kaitlyn!) I thought I’d say hello to Nick Ganster. He plays bass in Dudley Dawson, the band that opened for Cotton, but I was late and just missed them play. But it was good to speak with him later however.
The Thieves
Tales From The White Line is available tomorrow. Michael Walls and I have been crowing about these guys all year, and during the rest of 2005 we’ll get to see who else digs them, er, meaning music magazines.
Speaking of music mags, Paste is doing an outstanding job. My new issue has arrived with a fantastic Cameron Crowe interview and so much more that I don’t feel like getting into now.
In a purely retarded Fantasy Island dream I had recently, the Thieves were the house band at the island’s after-hours bar and Tatoo insists that he play keyboards with them. They resisted at first, but then Jamie says, “if he can keep up then let the little blugger play.”
Hal looks at Sam and says “Blimey then, let’s kick it..” Jamie lays down that awesome beat to start “Silverliner” and Tatoo, in perfect time slides a slick Hammond organ riff into the sound. Very cool. By the end of the song, Tatoo, wearing an open-collared white suit, balances himself on a stool to reach the organ keys, heavily drips sweat from his brow as he keeps up with Hal’s’ guitar riffery.
The Thieves give him no rest however. As soon as they finish, they immediately launch right into “Tales” and once again Tatoo rises to the challenge, standing head and shoulders above his competition, until Mr. Roark comes in and yells “Tatoo! You’re supposed to be holding my drink on the tray on your head!”
“But bossths, I was… juss playin’ with the Tieves. Curtice wanted it in his fantasy.”
When I woke up, I had no recollection of this dream at all.
Secret Thieves concert cover song suggestions: pick one:
Def Leppard “Let it Go” 1981
AC/DC “Touch Too Much” 1979
ZZ Top “Fool For Your Stockings” 1979
Song of the Day:
“Delivering the Goods” Judas Priest 1978
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