Elle and I were postulating tonight, as we watched Michael Phelps win his 125th gold medal (or something like that) that while these people may take home a medal or two, the person that really gets the "I Won" button is mom/dad. I mean, it's one thing to be an Olympian, but it's another thing entirely to make one. So, to all of our friends that have whelped lately (which seems to be just about all of them, frankly), let that be an aspiration.
In other news, I'm fairly done with the Micronaut EP; there is also a nearly completed Bounte EP, so we'll probably shove 'em out the door at the same time. Maybe they'll both win gold medals. Expect those in a couple weeks.
In Oregon, Sudafed (the original kind) is prescription only, because apparently some trailer trash types turn it in to meth. As a result, it is easier and cheaper to buy meth in this state than it is Sudafed.
Here's a funny story. (Read the long version.) I can... not... STAND... electro. I liked it fine the first time I heard it in 1981, when it was Living On Video by Trans-X; it hasn't changed at all in 27 years. But this shit is funny. Long story short: dude goes on a date, and his date leaves the club with his ex-girlfriend's ex-boyfriend. They then spend the next week apologizing to him and he takes all their apologies and makes a song out of them. Too funny.
