No, despite the headline I didn't get drunk last night. After all, our forefathers weren't freed from slavery just so that they could go down to the local pub. Or weeeeere they? Seems to be a lot of talk of vineyards and grape-peeling in the good book (what, not the "best" book?), so maybe we've gotten it all wrong.
Still, as I say, no imbibing for me. I was a fiddler on the wagon, not falling off the roof, sipping OJ and munching on macaroons late into the evening.
But today's another day and I guess I could say I've got something of a coconut hangover. Just so much of the sweet stuff you can take. Like me and WE TV (Women's Entertainment Television). Enough of the Golden Girls already. Bring on the chainsaws and David Mamet!
In other news, two items.
First, none of you has yet to guess my favorite Beatle (aside from those of you who know who you are and are ineligible due to contest rules restricting friends, families and employees.) Come on people, it can't be that
hard? I'm not pulling an overly clever trick here and including someone like Stu Sutcliffe or Pete Best (though Stu's pretty fucking cool, in my opinion.) Let's get those cards and letters coming. I feel the need to inscribe, and now!!
Second, I just came across yet another item
about Jew Punk that also mentions the book and my personal thoughts on the subject. It's straight outta The Forward and concentrates on Can Can, a band from my native state of Jo-Ja (Georgia to the Yankees among you.) One thing I especially like about this band is that they're not only from GA, they grew up in Austell, a tiny town (at least in my day) where (drum roll please) my father had his dry goods (that is, clothing) store.
Vive l'Austell! Long live jeans, t-shirts and ladies slacks!
And of course, God praise Beat Music in all its forms.