Brown Dog could only be cuter if he were giving a baby a ride on his back. And the baby had a pet monkey. And the monkey was holding a stuffed unicorn. And all three of them were eating lollipops. Okay, that would be cuter. Maybe the panda could hang then.
Also, I just got around to uploading photos from camera to computer that date from (get this) July. There's hundreds of them.
I totally suck.
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1. I am kind of excited all this might be caused by Danes. My people! (via this guy.)
2. I am going out tonight, people. U streetish. It is my favorite season to be in an imbibing establishment: sweaty-damp/overheated, wearing hiking boots and wool sweaters, hair plastered across my hat-marked forehead, sniffly, makeup non-existent. V. sex kitten.
3. Completely random sidenote/something I just learned yesterday (I'll hereafter refer to these stories as "ostriches," in honor of JR Cash): Goldcard's album was a side project of Pond's Charlie Campbell. Charlie Campbell is very, very reclusive, as well as maybe a part-time librarian (?awesome?) and never meant to have the Goldcard album see the light of day. After it was produced through urgings of friends (friends like Quasi and Grandaddy and VIPs and such and so forth), Mr. Campbell attended the release party INSIDE A BOX, so no one would touch him, and he interacted only through a tiny slot.
Please someone confirm this story, because if it is simply an urban legend I will be the most disappointed girl in the galaxy.
2 comments:
1. I'm onboard for the magnetic-pole-shiftiness. Not so much for this "collective consciousness" business. I do like the 108-minute orbiting satellite theory.
Charlie Campbell did play in a box. I didn't see it, but I know one of the Seattle papers wrote about it -- probably The Stranger.
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