fingernails across the moon
Thanks to the bored-at-work folks who wrote in to point out that I actually got none of the titles of the prom songs right. They are in fact "The Humpty Dance," "Poison" and "Call Me." At this point I should also say that they played "Superfreak," then played "U Can't Touch This" a half hour later. You are not allowed to play a rap song after you've already played the song from which it was sampled.
Chelsey's prom Polaroids! Yes, Lyse and I are in there. For those who don't live in Iowa, Vu is the gentleman with the fetching pink crepe paper around his neck.
Item! Those who remember February's missing eggs will be interested to know that yesterday afternoon, while Lyse was talking to the powers that be at the Riverside Theatre, I elected to grab coffee from the Java House and wait for her on the bench outside the Motley Cow. Only when I returned to the bench, a bag was sitting there with my name on it. I looked inside: two eggs. I have my suspicions about their origin involving John's Grocery, but it's too early to say anything. While I waited torrents of rain kept splashing over Denis Johnson's The Name of the World, which I was reading as it's finally out in paperback. It's good, yes. Nobody writes them like that guy. Also, there was an accident at the Gilbert-Market intersection, but nobody got hurt and the people involved were very nice to one another and called a friendly policeman. I do love this city, often.
The New York Times gives us a McSweeney's update and points out the dangers they're in for when the joke stops being funny. So that's what that Lemon book is. I keep seeing it at Prairie Lights and wondering, solely because of the nice jacket design. Apparently the actual novel is terrible.
