My aunt Melanie, the pro musician, likes The Deathbillies! Ah, savory, unguent validation, like homemade pot roast. Gotta call her.
Then I'll speed through my chores, let the robodrums play their robosolo until I can fix the levels and pick a decent crash cymbal sound, then lay drums and vocals on blue bayou. Then I can help Marcus Aureolus with the new song (Crazy Train vs. Patsy Cline's "Crazy") and get him to help me fix D.I.V.O.R.C.E. - now that I know how the tools work, I'm fixing all the songs I mixed before I knew how the tools work.
Tonight is prime viewing for mars. I like Mars: it's the stuff of postwar horror stories, as lunar eclipses no longer represent an angry god, we've upgraded. We're just smart enough to laugh at our Mars-fearing grandparents. But one day, we might demonstrate the possibility that life can exist in a plasma state, then the Sci-Fi Channel will IMMEDIATELY release Solar Snakehead Terror and Mansquito Invaders From the Sun.
I'll be shakin' in my grandpa-diapers. Hillbillies will fire shotguns at the sun.
Fri night and Sat I help Gruffy with an SCA feast. I whine because I have nothing to do at SCA events, then I realized that our neighbor runs SCA feasts, and I love to cook. And what fan of biology wouldn't love to cook? It's lab work you can eat!
