From the Cloud of Lester Bangs
Marsh—
You know that jive about “If there’s a rock and roll heaven, they must have a hell of a band”? Don’t believe it, pal.
All the talent went straight to Hell. All of it. The big acts up here are Jim Croce, Karen Carpenter, Cass Elliot, and— especially—Bobby Bloom! It’s a nightmare! If I have to hear that fucking “Montego Bay” even one more time, I may kill mysel…(ah, shit, keep forgetting).
Anyway, I apply for admission to Hell every six months but they keep turning me down, claiming—dig this: I’m too good hearted! Write ‘em and set ‘em straight, willya? Tell them just what an asshole I can be when I feel like it, Tell Uhelski to do the same. And Marcus. (By the way, make him cognizant how much I appreciate his wading through all my old writhing (with the “h”)
Met God when I first got here. I asked him why. You know, 33 and all. All he said was “M.T.V.” He didn’t want me to experience it, whatever the fuck it is.
Gotta run. Literally. Another herd of hoary Harp hacks heading here. Playing Zep’s “Stairway” of course. Fucking national anthem in this burg. Can’t believe nobody here is hip to the Elgins.
Take it from me, Dave. Heaven was Detroit, Michigan. Who woulda thunk it?
Eternally yours,
Bangs

Current Mood: amused

Courvoisier...holy shit.

Does it annoy anyone else when a pregnant friend says, "We find out the GENDER of the baby this week?" I'm sorry, but last time I checked there was no ultrasound for that. Just sayin'...

I now have a Master's degree, and in two days my internship will be complete.

Now I just have to find a teaching job.

There is some cheap beer siting in my fridge right now, left over from some brats Curt made the other night.

Not just cheap beer...BUSCH beer...

...and I'm actually considering HAVING SOME...

...and I am a beer SNOB...


...This is what teaching high-schoolers does to you.

I got a snow day on my birthday (since I'm a teacher and all). HOOOOOORRRRAAAYYY!!!!!!

I'm 24. Snowball fight, bitches.

Current Mood: cheerful

Happy birthday, Shanzi!

I'm going to be a wife in two days.


Wow.

In other news, both Eartha Kitt AND Harold Pinter died on Christmas. Damn.

Is it just me, or is common courtesy going the way of the dodo? I've always been pretty damn good (even when I'm crazy busy) about keeping in contact with people--especially regarding major life events.

My bachelorette party was last night, and three people showed up--two of whom planned it. Most of the girls they called for me--the girls I considered my closest friends--either didn't call back or made some half-assed comment about showing up only to blow it off. They had plenty of notice, too. Unfortunately...I'm used to this.

People, I'm getting married. This was my symbolic last big night with the girls, and most of them ditched me. Even my sister/maid-of-honor blew me off. I'm glad I at least had two amazing friends who worked hard to plan me a great party--and the one who showed up.

Lemme put it this way--I'm sick of this happening to me. If people are going to be like this, they are slowly going to fade from my life as I move on in it. And yknow? It's not really my loss. Fuck them.

Current Mood: pissed off