Wednesday, June 22, 2005

w/ the Quincy Hoist

Last night I went out. And had some drinks. And got rather surly. Wanted a cigarette or something. Not sure that was entirely it. But in a way, some hippy-ass way, methinks that my elemental balances got all screwed up... giving up the Earth/Wind and causing too much leaning on the Fire/Water. Yeah. That sounds good.

Bottom line is, I may have been kicked outta a few weddings in my time, but prior to last night never ejected from a wedding that ain't even happened yet. And as such it is with little fanfare that I declare that I will be butt-ass sober at the upcoming Sector Five CD release party. Tha's right. You see, as a social lubricant, well... alcohol has only made me do things like lurk under tables, sit in bushes, and fume. Social lubricant? More like social boobricant!

So I'm takin' it back to the old school. High school. When I was a straight-edge skate fuck that, yes, owned a pair of plaid Lip Service shorts with around a dozen zippers that DIDN'T LEAD TO POCKETS and once tried to make a chain wallet out of Barrel-O-Monkeys. I remember skankin' along to all the hot local Houghton bands and having whipped cream wars and all without the sauce. I was still socially akward, see, but I didn't ever have to puke.

So if you see me at the show, sipping a nice cold ice water, poke me in the chest (hard!) and call me out on being a right cunty poseur. But remember: I've decided to donate all savings to building a lab and continuing the research of Dr. Shulgin into synthetic psychedelics.

And I'll totally know if you guys are actually playing the songs or if you acheived that tight, punchy sound through animatronics and player pianos. I'LL KNOW ALL 'BOUT IT.

Thank you for your time.


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