Thursday, April 11, 2002

Man, that lunch thing yesterday? That worked out well. Great even. I had lunch and read some comic books. It was everything I knew having lunch and reading comic books could be. I woke up late on Wednesday; so, to punish myself, I didn't shave. Ugh, I hate being all scruffy. Ew ew ew.

Jim wants to have a "summit" to discuss the future of The Newsletter. It's incredibly dorky, but I'm really excited to hear that. Yes, I know what you're asking, Why would a three-man editorial staff, especially a three-man editorial staff in which two of the three live together, need to have a summit? Why can't we just have a meeting like normal people? Or talk it over at Big Boy? Fuck if I know, but I regard The Newsletter as a long term project (I'd love to one day write a column about how disgusting the birth of my first kid is. Come on, all that uteral fluid, and then the placenta? You can't tell me that isn't six kinds of gross) and I'm delighted at the prospect of someone, even Jimmy Judas, sharing that "vision."

The Mustard Plug show is on Friday. Sweet. The Eyeliners last Friday and Mustard Plug this Friday. Life would be nearly perfect were there a ska or punk show every Friday...
"What's going on this weekend?"
"Dude, rock."
"Oh, yeah, sorry. I'm still used to the bad old days when rock shows were all too few and far between."
"Yeah, it's a brave new world, my friend. Not in the totalitarian, 'year of Our Ford' way, as much as the great music every Friday night sort of way."
"It'd be cool if it was sort of like 1984, though. We'd have the Ministry of Punk Rock, Minipunk!"
"This is one seriously fucked up discussion."
"Only instead of Big Brother, we'd have Joey Ramone watching over us!"

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