Africa good, Rosanna GREAT

a few thoughts

I found a dead bird this weekend. This is only significant because several blue jays have been found to have West Nile in my neighborhood. Methinks the stray cats made off with the bird meat and some bones for jousting. I am slightly concerned that West Nile will mutate in stray cats to form a strain of super-flu not known to these parts. Besides George Bush doesn't like black people, upon hearing my name is Calvin and I have West Nile Super Duper Flu he'll send Mike Brown to sing Carless Whisper at my mosquito net covered hospital bed in Pass Christian.
I fear that if a cat scratches me I'll be like that dude from Seven, the one with all the scented tree's in his apartment...

I've started carrying hankerchiefs again.

I bought a vomit bucket for Monday's Laguna Beach. I don't think I can stomach Charlton Heston's brother Jason, putting his claws on sweet sweet LC. I figure future female wrestler Alex M. (I think M. the one that isn't Kristen's Ogre) will beat the sugar out of poor LC.

Rosanna by Toto is the definitive pop gem of my weekend. I would fight for one chance to go back in time. I would have either been at Altamont for the Stones, or Topeka '82 for a Toto-Journey double bill. I can see my feathered hair flying in the wind of my black T-Bird, on the way to the show, doing coke, and punching nerds. Sluming in a HoJo trying to cook angel dust in a Mr. Coffee.

That or I'd go back in time and lobby for George Washington not to accept wooden teeth as his only alternative. No I would have put short screws into his tooth sockets allowing for more meat tearing. Wood only allows so much good chewin'.

All I Wanna Do in the Evening is Hold You Tight...Rosanna