i have only shitty pictures i took while trying to distract myself from friends doing the makeout right behind me. sorry. im craigslisting scanners right now. also, kitty con carne (i am convinced the name comes from e's roommates deep underlying hatred of his own cat, lu, who resembles him in possibly discomfiting ways - manic tail, incessant mewling) played their (whoo!) live debut tonight, and though i think they could use a few choir boys (whoo! again), and a few power chords, and maybe please dont dance like you have to pee (more on that later), ok, no, i totally enjoyed the show, especial favorites being (the songs as far as i know lacking names) That One Where the Beginning Is Slow And It Puts E. to Sleep But Then It Picks Up, But I Think Shes Just Being Impatient And Like It The Way It Is, and of course The Last One, Where I Again Dissent And Dont Think That Theres Too Much Going On At All, but then again this is e im dissenting from and she fancies (among other things) power-pop-pop ditties from the 50s. the singers voice is a little low for a lead singer, and hes got no ...gusto?... but other than that, if theyd move a little more toward hardcore or experimental rock...oh whatever, stop bitching. as for galapagos, the venue: their mission statement is indulgently capitalistic, which leads me to suggest that, then, as a business venture, they should consider replacing the curtains-as-doors in the bathroom with (suspense here) doors-as-doors. or at least curtains that extend below ones knees - get a bit of a draft and all of a sudden youre staring straight at a dripping batcave (sooooorry that was bad - and will "wiktionary" ever make it into the OED? oooh.).

bitched at the wrong roommate for ruining my cheese this morning. whoops.

dont need to drink/drug/pray - cant feel a damn thing anyway. uh, whos this?