Dec 16, 2004 12:39
Last night was jack fontaine’s 22nd. Steve and I had him over, wrote him a joint love letter and drank his birthday rum. I was all set writing him a little dirge on the epiphone when I was suddenly plum drunk and ready for bed. So it goes. Happy days, jacob roy fontaine. I hope you got home safe.
I woke up at six this morning for work and found dear geoffry sexton all fetal position, slumbering on the couch. I think he’s about to start taking weekends off (he does dishes part time @ Fido’s). That means more late nights with that lovely bastard, blaring postrock and bitching about bad art. I don’t know about you but I’m damn excited.
Sam’s home in a week. Less. We’ve plans to hit up New Orleans and possibly Asheville. I’’ve already got a great part of her xmas present.
Band shit is going ok. We’ve got stickers, thanks to lee’s nikki. And we’ve had a grand show in New york thanks to my sammy. And caleb is the best drummer ever, turns out. No kidding. And we’ve officially brought the art of dancing to this horrid town. You’re welcome, fuckers. Now we just want more shows with more people dancing/in attendance. Its absurd how often people just don’t follow through, for whatever reason, and let the baby band be the unwelcome guest around mboro. But steve’s gonna bust some teeth here in a bit. So. Watch it.
My little brother, doing missionary training in Switzerland, leaves for three months of work in Ethiopia on xmas day. H o l y S h i t. I wish I understood. That kid is amazing.
Be well.