Kickin it James Joyce Style.

So, the time before band rehearsal can be pretty dull. I’m usually in the office making up for my late morning arrivals but lately my job is so frikkin lame it’s pretty hard to stay for until 8pm. Once you realize that you are more of a disposable cog in a big corporate wheel than even you thought, it’s pretty hard to give much of a shit. Mercifully, I was able to get Clinton to meet me at Rudz before rehearsal – a great excuse to blow the joint at 7:30.

The great thing is that, as I’m the total pussy liberal and Clinton’s the total closet fascist, we can talk shit for hours. It’s much more fun to listen as someone tries to make arguments for Bush’s NSA fuck-up than sitting through any conference call. And ya know, I tell ya what, a Guinness, Onion Rings, and Fajitas (Clinton got the Fish and Chips) may not be the healthiest meal but fuck yeah if it didn’t breathe some life back into my soul. Drink, eat, chat for an hour then go to rehearsal. That ain’t bad. Plus after practice I know that Orion and Rosa will be at home. That’s even better. Hell, nix the shitty job and life would be sweet.