a jam that you love that don't be gettin' no airplay

I went to a hip-hop '80s party tonight. They didn't play enough good songs, though they did delve a bit into the very early '90s, a wonderful time for all music of all kinds. As such, I can't stop saying, "Don't punch girls, and we don't punch a clock." You know how that goes.

John Kerry keeps sending me emails. I don't know whether to be flattered or freaked out. Maybe I'll go for intrigued. That can mean anything, really.

We came up with a couple of amazing ideas for where to have the grand ball of 30. Yes, it is eight+ months off, but you have to be ready for these things. If any of these places pan out, it is going to be a very good show indeed. I think it is going to be a good show no matter what. And you're invited! Lucky.

I was out of the house today for over 12 hours. Now that is special.

Hmm, what else? My legs are itching so badly that I am considering slicing off the skin. I don't really need it, do I? Surely not. And my vegetable peeler is fantastic.

I think I may go out tomorrow night, too. Wouldn't that be marvelous? If you go out tomorrow and see a girl with red dripping legs, that'll be me.