HERE'S A SITE REDESIGN FOR THOSE OF YOU CONSTANTLY BLEATING "your site's so hard too read". I fear, however, that anyone who finds white text on black backgrounds hard to read is in for a rocky life, so I hope, for your sakes, that you were just being persnickety. Actually, the real reason I redesigned is because I got tired of every blog but mine having those damn Facebook 'like' buttons, and some code in my old template was stymieing installation. So there is now a 'like' button under each post, and it only took August 4, 2010, a long chat conversation with a desparate Indian web developer and a temporary case of carpal tunnel syndrome. So click those buttons until your wrist feels like mine, and your little brother might accidentally stumble on here for a few seconds around Christmas. I'm an Internet attention whore and I'm standing up.
You'll also notice the background is now a list of Westside street names, instead of the list of musicians it used to be. Well, that's assuming you noticed that the background was a list of musicians back when it was a list of musicians, which is probably not something I should bet on. In any case, I intentionally misspelled one street name, and there's a prize for the first person who's not Janet Dandridge who brought it to my attention who can find it. I don't know what that prize is yet. But it shouldn't be too contagious. Morton's Neuroma isn't airborne, according to my uncle. I chipped a tooth the other day, but that was from trying to pry the head off that ginseng vial. My wisdom teeth keep clamping on my cheek flesh this week though. Happens one week a year. I can't call it. But some kind of insect has bitten me head to toe, and Franamami hasn't been bitten once. So your prize will probably be a swig from my new metal flask that's been saving me $200 a week, and there's no reason to worry.
Speaking of insects, dead roaches and crickets are turning up in my apartment. I see them and assume Panther Stance, reaching airily for a flat object, but they're already dead, like lying-on-their-back-legs-upturned-like-in-cartoons dead. What does this mean?
Speaking of Franamami, she tried repeatedly and failed to get me to say the word "nig" this morning. She had spewed a nasty racialist epithet at me moments earlier and invited my revenge. But the n-bomb is like cocaine: you never ever go anywhere near it under any circumstances whatsoever, no matter what anyone tries to tell you. 'Niggardly' ("grudgingly mean about spending or granting") is fair game, but try using it loudly in a sentence at Starbucks and see how fast the world mutes.
Oh, about tonight. Sloe Poke of Root Down/Resident Friday/Sonido fame is spinning alongside Club Feng Shui's DJ Spye, and if Bamboo's owner keeps his word, it'll be the last night he allows dancing, as Bamboo has no dancing license and he's getting cold feet (ha) about it. Starting next week we're going loungey: cheap drinks, top-notch food served late, chill vibe. So tonight marks the end of an era: a rather short, dimly lit era, but an era nonetheless. So come break a leg with us one last time so Sloe Poke won't have to come over and break them for you.
Apologies for slipping on the daily updates. Roughly a third of my life's work got erased when I moved servers last week, so I'm in the trenches. I even quit my voiceover class. I'm in no mood to pay $500 to drive to Burbank so an insurance salesman can show me their Mickey Mouse impersonation.
I wonder if this new bright blog design will make my writing happier.
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