Don't say my car's topless, say the titties is out

Aw yeah, it's the first real sign of spring and the coed hotties be rockin' they mams in the nonstop haltertops. You forget how much you miss that until it returns.

Also I'm spotting the frosh girls who've shaved their heads for the first time. I can almost remember far enough back to when *I* thought that was cool. I can also almost remember when I thought *anything* was cool. Now nothing is cool and everything sucks, go shit in your hat.

Actually, one thing is cool: The Thermals, whom I saw last night. They were so much fun to watch and listen to, and so young and cute and full of verve.

bmarkey was the one who turned me onto them* and he once mentioned something along the lines of, "Just wait till you see them in person; they're cute as the dickens."

He was right, as usual.

See, he knows a lot about music. In fact, right now, he's got an excellent post all about Blue Oyster Cult, and if you're rolling your eyes at the idea of "excellent" and BOC in the same sentence, it's all the more reason for you to go read it.

Apropos of nothing (aside from the fact that it's a story coming out of the general geographic vicinity as both the Big Green House AND The Thermals...you can draw your own premature and wildly inappropriate conclusion here), check out this truly bizarre story of The "Wild Boys" of British Columbia.

In general maintenance news, I'm just not feelin' it so much these days. So posting may be erratic for a while, unless I can sweet-talk a certain someone into guest blogging for me.

*Incidentally, folks, he makes the best mix tapes ever.