What I've been pondering this week:

1. Why in God's (or Allah's, or Brahman's, or whichever tickles your fancy) name is Route 18 still under construction?
Seriously. What is the objective and when will it be reached? Getting to South Jersey is absolutely horrifying, and while Joelle will probably say that it's like that with my driving regardless (I really am not that bad), when lanes are barely wider than my hips (okay, bad example), let alone my fucking car, it's really, really, nervewracking. My knuckles looked like fat little snowflakes on my steering wheel last night when I went to see two bands you should check out--Dear Ulysses and The Peasantry (they even share members, isn't that precious?). They have the hardest working manager in the biz, too. I was glad to say that they were well worth the trek to Long Branch. The show was definitely more killer than the drive there, and well, that's a lot of killing. That's like Jack the Ripper (hi Spitalfield reference!) meets the Zodiac meets Catherine of friggin' Bathory, dude.

2. How cool would it be if it actually rained men?
This actually crossed my mind as I was driving and singing along to the sequel to this song (because everything on radio around here sucks more than a hundred Hoovers and Kirby's--except this guy, who owns your face), which features a cameo by RuPaul--amazing. But really--I would turn my umbrella upside down for sure. And I already jump in puddles, so this would be even more enjoyable. But how would they fall? Would they start out as little droplets and then grow upon hitting ground or what? Because if one is clumsy, this could be really dangerous and messy, too. A chance I'm willing to take, mind you. I'll pray for rises in humidity and drops in barometric pressure for as long as it takes... And invest in a really big bucket to keep outside, one which wouldn't attract West Nile and mosquitoes when left out overnight.

3. Why does the Court Tavern staff insist on keeping that hundred year old dirtbag at the door?
What a douche, seriously. I've encountered plenty of rude, bitter people in my life, but none that get paid to be as such (Elizabeth Hasselbeck not withstanding). Luckily, being a youngin', I didn't have to deal with him much when I went to see the Love Trilogy for drummer Ahmed's birthday. They had cool lighting effects and do one mean "Voodoo Chile" cover--and they're in Brunswick all the time, so check them out when you can. Also fun was getting a Big Bird cupcake shoved in my face that subsequently fell a bit further South. I was still picking yellow sprinkles out of my cleavage the next morning. All in a day's work.

4. How long is it going to take you to realize that this is my way of band product placement?
Wink wink, nudge nudge.


*By Jess, who reads propaganda like it's pulp fiction.