A river runs through, or possibly over, it

Brian and I intend to go whitewater rafting this Sunday, the 11th. If you're interested, please to comment and/or email me with your interest, how many bodies you bring with, and whether you have your own transport to a point some 80 min. west of here. Soon is better than late, as we'd like to make a reservation.

(This is not June's Doing Stuff[tm]. It's just a stuff that is being done, as it were.)

Instant Album Review: Brain Surgeons, Denial of Death

Steve bought the CD when we went to the show a few months back, but I don't tend to give new albums a listen until either I've copied them to minidisc or happened to put them on while I'm painting--and I haven't painted in months. Ergo... He copied it to MD for me, the sly dog, and added it to my stack, and I finally gave it a go; and it's been in heavy rotation, as they say, ever since.

This album is for everyone who's been missing old-style metal. Oh my yes. It's heavy, it's melodic, it's got that eerie edge that Al has always brought to the table; and thank fucking Christ it's neither whiny nor angsty, which is a trend I've grown utterly sick of. (Quaere: is this because late teen-early twenties band members are prone to whiny angstiness but those of a certain age are not, or because the Olde Phuckes come from a tradition where if you acted like that you got your face smashed into a wall in a skanky bar?) So, go buy it. Now. Then put on your leather jacket, stick the CD in your Charger's stereo and pilot the thing like an F-15 along a crowded highway.

(no subject)

I just had my first doumbek lesson with naudia. Me likey! Me bang on drum! Me have rhythm, and can spell it! (Me shoulder hurt.)