11.08.03ii
it isn't that nothing has happened in the past few weeks; on the contrary, october was zesty and marvelous. it's that the things were mostly exciting in a very subjective way, like seeing a nun on a bicycle or ethan hawke's puppy having a poo. no one wants to hear about that, really.
stewart et al. came over last weekend for sonic proselytization - somber, focused listens to other folks' music. one assumes he'll post the track list at some point; i believe my five choices were
iron & wine - promising light
britney spears - e-mail my heart
rainer maria - the contents of lincoln's pockets
the modern lovers - pablo picasso
the fucking champs - winter of our discotheque
joe and i are starring in the weeping walls, a low-budget horror movie in which maintenance workers broke a pipe upstairs, the neighbors use their kitchen sink, a strange tinkling sound comes from nowhere, and the ceiling bulges and slithers. it's pretty awesome. our super is not being very super about it.
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