oh, nothing.

i remember when
home movies was in squiggle-
vision. that was rad.






that norah jones song sucks my will to live. am i supposed to think that she's sorry? does she regret? because the music is awfully breezy and nonchalant for the subject matter. i think she just doesn't care at all, so what's this teardrop crap? does no one consider the notion of form matching content? i don't know, but i bet that if chan marshall covered it with a lap steel instead of a piano it would make more sense. i have wet dreams about chan putting out an album of beach boys covers. it would be so perfect for her, so many of brian wilson's songs have that undercurrent of feverish pathos. come on, "surfer girl?" "god only knows?" you know it's true, and if you like cat power you can hear it already, and you want it just as bad as i do. i think we should start a petition. once she folds we can start hounding shonen knife to cover some rage against the machine. there's no logic behind that, i just think it'd be fun. i've already convinced many of my tool-loving friends that tori amos could do all of it better. when will i be queen? so many plans, so little leverage...

there's been no significant rain in worcester for months. thank you, weather faerie.