If I could travel back in time, I would zoom back to Friday and I would wrestle Ziggy from Nolan’s germ-covered, Tap Tap Revolution playing clutches. I would also go to bed at a decent time on Friday night and Saturday night. Also, I would drink more water than wine and I would eat some sort of vegetable because I don’t think potato chips counts. Because if I could do all that, I would not be waylaid by a late-summer cold.
The cold, a first in like two years, better have it’s way with me and then be done. Wam, Bam, Thank You Ma’am and all that.
You see, Saturday is the annual State Fair trip and I will need all my olfactory senses in working order to properly enjoy the corn dogs.
In other news, I’m fucking boring. Like boring as hell. So boring that I wonder why people don’t just shout, “shut up, shut up, shut up” right in my face.
And here’s the other thing. Is it just me or has rock and roll got really fucking boring too? Are we both past our prime? I’ve been whining lately (because that’s what boring people do) about how no band has come down the pike to really grab me by the shirt and shake me senseless since The Hold Steady.
How sad is that?
I’ve broken up with Wilco. And I’m just generally sick of everything else. I mean I loved the new Neko album and I thought Phoenix was fun. But come on. . . where is the rock and roll? Have the kids stopped making it?