Ding Da Ding Da Ding

We decided to spend the weekend making hoop skirts out of trash bags. Fun of that magnitude can only last so long because one of us was on the verge of suffocation. They should really put better warnings on boxes of trash bags. It's really, really hard to breath when you put one on your head so you can scare kids when they come to your door for Halloween candy. It's nowhere near Halloween. That's odd. We had kids asking us for candy all weekend long. Maybe it was the van we were driving that attracted them to us. The youth of today have really missed the boat on that whole "Don't Talk to Strangers" bit. We talked to strangers and look where it got us.

Today's disc to ponder is Beth Orton's "Daybreaker". Actually, everything she's done to date is worth checking out. It's soft. Like oil. Fire on, little engine.

Air holes. We need more air holes. This box is stuffy and moist. Like a Wet Nap. There are few finer smells in the world as when you've just dusted off a bucket of chicken and you wash your hands with a Wet Nap. The smell of the soap and the chicken grease is magical. Colonel: we have a problem. media5