Ich bin ein Haschenmann
25 October 1999
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Ich bin ein Haschenmann
25 October 1999
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9:25 PM: Sheesh. It just took me about 10 minutes just to open this file and empty out its old contents, which amounts to maybe six keystrokes in theory, and around 1000 in this case. Type much?
Yes, I truly am a Bunnyman now. Friday's show by the ripely-aged Echo & the Bunnymen was awesome. I mean that a bit more literally than usual, too. Their music has a tremendous physical presence, and it's hitting you right about mid-torso, and your insides are vibrating... and you end up staring up at the stage when a song finishes saying something coherent like, "Wow."
I don't know if they're releasing any new material these days, or if it'd be any good if they did. God, you should have seen Ian McCulloch up on that stage, sunglasses welded on, chain smoking, 3.5 sheets to any breeze that might come along. But it doesn't matter. If they come to town, go.
Also finally watched the final three episodes of The Sopranos this weekend. What I was thinking particularly afterwards, was yet another reason why this is such an odd TV crime show. I had no real sense of suspense at all, even though it was the conclusion of the whole first season arc. It wasn't boring, I don't mean that. But it just seems more like a character study of Tony Soprano than a gangster series. I loved how the psychiatrist, after starting out not wanting to know anything about Soprano's "business", ends up trying to get him to see that his mother is trying to get him killed. She even curses!
Other events of note: Oh, my old roommate and bestest friend Lana got married Saturday. I was sure that she had told me that the invitations she sent out were just for the reception. I arrive about 45 mins after the starting time, thinking that things will probably have gotten underway by then, only to find this room full of people in suits & dresses, sitting down, waiting to be served their buffet. This was the whole actual wedding. Eek. But it was OK. They even had a band in tuxedo-like outfits who did a bad version of "Spooky", and a cover of "Hot Hot Hot" that got all the wild and crazy party people doing a conga line around the dance space. That's about exactly when I left.
Marriage, though. Shudder. Good wishes for her and all, but. Allergic me, pay no attention. As the saying goes, been there, blew that.
Oh, and I have green hair now. Huh zah. I'm still turning into a pyramid.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
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All names are fake, most places are real, the
author is definitely
unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
© 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne. | ||||
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