Monday, May 23, 2005


My parents gave me an hour warning before showing up at my doorstep. Dropping her belongings haphazardly, my mom stuck her head in my fridge and came out with a look that said, "At least it's cold."

When they left early this afternoon, my parting words to her were, "Don't forget to give me money for some stereo speakers."

She turned her back to enter the RV and chuckled under her breath: "I would've been more worried had you said something nice."


If God was a hair accessory smelted from ore, S/He would be a bobby pin. Think Extreme Makeover: Temporary Edition. Dig, dig, flick, flick, you too can now transform yourself from the Elephant Man to Donna Summers in a few rattles of the wrist.


Listening to Manu Chao. Crazy, socialist goodness. JuanaMachine got me hooked when I viewed live concert footage off his computer. The vibe he gives off is amazing: there's a lot of positive energy on stage (spectacular showmanship notwithstanding). You can sense the purity of his intentions because there's an undeniable feeling that you're listening to someone who just wants to reach out and play music for the masses. And by the way, he sings in French, Spanish, Arabic, Portuguese, English and Wolof.

The man's a freakin' phenom!

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