As you can see by my boring pics at right, I've been working another AFI short. I will blame that for not posting for almost two weeks. I really don't have much to say, except that I kinda like the Dizzy Rascal CD. Can't understand what the heck he's saying, but that's okay, couldn't understand the Clash at first either. Not that the two are on the same level. The Clash were the soundtrack of a good chunk of my life, the young chunk. You know you're getting old when you can take Joe Strummer's death in stride. Hell, it happens to everybody.
But that's old news, and pop rolls on. Here's to Dizzy Rascal, whatever the hell he's rapping about. Maybe it's better he's mumbling, though Tricky hit that note first (anybody remember Maxinquaye? great album). Rap is so dead, you've got to blow it up and start all over. And no, the Beastie Boys aren't about to freshen up the genre with their next tired joint. Ca-ca-ca-cash your Ch-ch-ch-check ya has-beens.
Ok, now I'm not just old, I'm bitter. Fuck it, I'm gonna lay on the couch, drink warm milk, and watch PBS until I pass out, senior citizen style. G'night.  ¶ 9:12 PM