Huh! According to whatever the hell a widget is, I can now post to my long-negected-lamented blog from the dashboard function of Sarah's and my new MacBook computer. Pretty slick!
I'm in the Temescal Cafe, and thanks to iTunes' complete lack of respect for personal privacy I'm piggy-backing onto the soul-revealing musical library of some joker named Greg Hottinger. Of course, I'm sure my new BFF Greg is silently laughing himself silly at the ur-nerdy preponderance of Talking Heads and They Might Be Giants (TMBG to you, n00b) in my own iTunes library.
In all seriousness, Greg, if you're reading this, we have a lot of music in common, and I'm listening to your imprint of Beck's Loser for the fourth time in a row as my bagel-with-lox grows cold. So no hard feelings, alright? Man, this song rocks too hard. I had great taste in high school.
I'm in the Temescal Cafe, and thanks to iTunes' complete lack of respect for personal privacy I'm piggy-backing onto the soul-revealing musical library of some joker named Greg Hottinger. Of course, I'm sure my new BFF Greg is silently laughing himself silly at the ur-nerdy preponderance of Talking Heads and They Might Be Giants (TMBG to you, n00b) in my own iTunes library.
In all seriousness, Greg, if you're reading this, we have a lot of music in common, and I'm listening to your imprint of Beck's Loser for the fourth time in a row as my bagel-with-lox grows cold. So no hard feelings, alright? Man, this song rocks too hard. I had great taste in high school.
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