T.W.I.B. Notes

This week has been so, so, so busy. Auditioning new guitar players. Album artwork do-overs. Open mic nights where I play the part of Statler and Waldorf to Tim's Muppet Show, except Statler and Waldorf didn't have three orange-vodka-tonics in them when the heckling occurred.

Oh and then there's this handsome titanium devil:

It's my first iPod since my old original click-wheel G4 40-gig 24 lbs. black-and-white behemoth died on tour last summer. I've filled it up with all the new goodies, as well as some old stuff I've been revisiting the past few days: Face To Face, NOFX, Finch, etc. plus all the old bootleg Alkaline Trio I stole from Dr. J. I can't remember the last time I've desk-drummed along to "Don't Call Me White."

Also, I was given a very important math lesson this past Tuesday:

y=kx

Basically, what this means is this: the grandiosity of my gesticulations while telling a story(y) is directly proportional to the amount of drinks I've consumed (k). The non-zero constant (x) is my raging French-Canadian heritage.

I'm 0-3 lifetime at Wii bowling. I'm a sore loser. I'm an even sorer winner. This is completely unacceptable.