Week in the Knee

Certainly not a dull one. It started last sunday, when I spent the day putting the finishing touches on a song I recorded with my new 4-track recording system. It's a horribly depressing little ditty about wanting to get run over by a car. I decided to take a break and walk to the store. As I was crossing the street, a light brown mini van appeared out of the right corner of my eye just in time for me to jump out of the way before it ran right over me. It clipped my left arm and had I not seen it coming, it most certianly would have done some serious damage. The van slowed, the driver probably confused as to what the loud thud was on the side of his van. Later on, I couldn't stop thinking about the fat, hard black rubber tires rolling over my legs as I sat upright watching, and listening to the sound of my bones crushing under the weight of the van. I spent the rest of the day in bed, in absoulute shock. I watched Swingers, The Big Sleep, and Vanilla Sky.

I think I ate my last meal at McDonald's. The end of an era. I loved McDonald's, not even Super Size Me could deter me from the yellow soaked franchised environment that I found so comforting. It was the greasy floors, food covered tables, and finally, the talking garbage can that said thank-you everytime you stuffed its hole with trash that finally did me in. Ah fuck it, I can still manage a Big Mac every once in awhile for old times sake.

I met with Nymphalidae to put the finising touches on our submission to a local culture publication. The theme is risk. We got drunk. Nymphalidae nearly fell out of the window. I thought that was pretty risky. The magazine is very high brow, I rarely understand any of the writing. The artwork is even more confusing. So I decided to pen a 500 word rant loaded with idiotic pulp culture references and emotional self doubt. I refer to the magazine in the piece as, "a shitty rag, that people only read on the toilet," so it will be interesting to see what comes of it. I doubt it will be published, but it's a risk we'll have to take.

It was Remington's birthday the other night, and a large and wild drinking party ensued at the dark bar. I could not attend, but wish now that I would have, as Nymphalidae mixed herself up with some interesting company and was nearly killed in a car accident. I will spare you the details, as they are still working themselves out, and the gossip is flying from every direction. It would not have happened had I been there. Either that, or I would have been in the car too.

And really, that's only the stuff I can share with you. Some of it is just a little too monumental, even for the confessional mantra that Low's has been known to follow. It seems that my list of readers is growing, and as it does, I find myself diligently putting together posts that will not offend, upset, or hurt, anyone. Just remember the slogan at your top right, as you read on gentle reader. Big and Tall, that's how we like it around here.