Why don't we post anymore? So many loyal readers constantly disappointed. I'm sorry. It's tough. We're busy. Ohmilordy, we're busy. More shows on the horizon, pub for Middle East is in full effect.
I have been brainstorming my children's book lately. Want to read it? Shut up, it's not done. It's all a bunch of rough notes. The main character is named Owen. I want to name my first son Owen but am afraid that if i write this book I'll never be able to name my kid the same name. I am so cracked out on odd sleep patterns. I love non sequiturs.
"Do you think you know you're right? Or do you know you think you're right?" The man's question seemed to make sense, but Owen felt confused.
"I don't know," he responded.
"So then you think." said the man, whose logic seemed to Owen to be patently absurd.
"I really don't know," Owen said again.
"Then it's settled." said the man. "Detroit it is."
"Detroit?" asked Owen. "There's a Detroit where I come from."
"I wouldn't be surprised," said the man, who seemed completely unfazed by Owen's reiteration of the fact that he came from another dimension. "Detroit is a good name for a place. In fact, I named my cat Detroit."
"But your cat isn't a place," Owen said.
"Sure it is," the man said, with the matter-of-fact delivery that made his statements seem almost more ludicrous than they already were. "Wherever the cat is, that's a place. Which brings me back to what I wanted to tell you at the beginning: it's confusing to name your cat the same name as a place, but not nearly as confusing as naming your cat the same name as another cat."
Owen was growing ever more comfortable with being confused.
tracks: weird shit at Herrell's of Allston Rap-Rock Citay.