rushlight

My brother Chris and his son came in to town yesterday morning. I was, of course, completely catto (viz. ginormous drool puddle on pillow) after work. Apparently Dad managed to secure some Mavs tickets for free through his company. Of course, I was still unresponsive when it was time to head to the game, so they left me behind. No biggie, as I've never been a fan of any sports (save a few less-than-mainstream ones). I did get a chance to eat dinner (my breakfast) with Chris n' Dad before I went to work.

Anyway, I got off work an hour and fifteen minutes late this morning and offered to drive Chris and his son to the airport around 10:45 today. This is after working 10+ hours. Suffice it to say I was goddamned tired already. They got there just in time (Mario Andretti ain't got shit on my driving skills). On my way back, I decided to renew my acquaintance with that overpriced cultural cesspool that is the Galleria. Yes, you can actually pay $300+ for a GODDAMN pair of JEANS there. And before you ask, no, I didn't. Though I'm thinking about raiding the Kenneth Cole store there. Yes, I have a fetish for Kenneth Cole clothing. Fuck you if you don't like it.

Portishead's new album "Alien" is absolutely gorgeous. The first song - "Open Box" - is like hearing everything I am (and hate being) put to words.

Regardless, get the album. I don't care if you have to cut out your grandmother's tongue and sell it. Get the album.

Now for the downside of my week. If you feel like hearing me start wibbling about my shitty week, go to my Deviant Art account. This is a couple days old, but oh well.

Now I'm going to try and find some sleep. I've been up since 22:00 yesterday. I'm pretty much running on willpower now. Anyway, nini.