Just a quick note before I head off to the magic cave of edible paint pots.
Sorry for silence, if you noticed. I got a puppy on Saturday and my life is totally different now. Holy Shit. I named him Sloopy, because I love the song "Hang On Sloopy" so. The doggy is a perfect Sloopy. He walks funny and falls down a lot and wobbles like Bambi, because of some horrible disease he had as a baby. It's the cutest thing you've ever seen, next to, I don't know, baby kittens breakdancing.
Jake, my roommate, fell in deep, crazy love with him, and they are out having lunch right now.
If anybody knows any good books or videos or anything about training a puppy, please let me know. He isn't housebroken yet, oy gevalt. It was a yellow Christmas for me.
I don't have anything profound to say about Joe Strummer, except that he had one of the greatest rock names ever, and I hate to see dangerous rock become timeless classics and/or commercial soundtracks, which is what the Clash's music has become. I hate to see rock stars die.
Actually, I do have a lot more to say about Joe Strummer.
After I get back from the edible paint-pots.