So since it was my birthday, somebody asked my sign. Of course, this is a totally normal thing to do in the course of human conversation, but it always gets on my nerves. You see, I don't belive in Astrology. I think it's right up there with reading the future through sheep intestines. It's stupid, and probably my second biggest annoyance next to organized religion. My strategy is generally to refuse to tell people my 'sign' on the grounds that I don't wished to be judged by a value system I do not wish to participate in. I think that's fair, but I've managed to, simply by refusing to fess up, reduced peace-loving, pacifist hippies to the state of apoplexy that usually precedes a bar fight. People get SERIOUS about this shit.

Anyway, the point is, I wasn't in the mood to explain all this so I was going to tell her. She must have seen my hesitation, becase she quickly said "I'm totally not a 'sign' person". Which was considerate, so to be friendly, I told her. Now she has decided that we are astrological opposites and the stars have fated me to be her nemesis, her darkstar, the anti-her. Last time I saw her, she was dressed in jungle rags and smearing her face with mud. There was a homemade bow strung over her back and she was smearing little pointed sticks with some kind of frog secretion.

Just kidding, of course, the conversation ended there. But it did remind me that Sheri and I are the same 'sign'. A situation described in a song by the Fall. But like all Fall songs, it's really hard to understand the lyrics. So as a service to you, the reader, I've worked some of it out here:

Two Librans, by Mark E Smith:

Two Librans....
Reflect!
Two Librans...
I am lower mind
With sheilds and I am...
Two Librans...
Reflect!
On Oprah Winfrey, bookseller.
My poodle is from a barking doorway
I'm fighting to slim down
Get me four lagers, I've lost my teeth
Muffa-HaH umba umba FLAH!
Ma ooka Wha-HUH!
(repeat)

Well, that's as close as I can come, anyway. Here's the album, it's a great one.
  ¶ 10:39 AM 1 comments

  So Rodney Dangerfield died today. I think we should all take a silent moment to show our last no respects....

Okay, you probably aren't a fan of the Penny Arcade online cartoon like I am. Like a drooling fanboy, that is. You probably don't even like it. You probably thinik it's for fucktards. You probably think I'm a subhuman for using a word like 'fucktard'. The kind of subhuman who reads sweary online comics about geeky things nobody who has a life gets, or even remotely cares about. But I swear to god, you owe it to your humour gland to go read the first three paragraphs of this post. And click the link in it, too. Really. You'll like it. You might even stop calling me a subhuman, which would be good because that's just mean.
  ¶ 4:24 PM 2 comments

  Well, it's official. Today's the day I stop saying 'I can't believe I'm over 30!', and start saying 'I can't believe I'm almost 40!'. I guess I should spend some time in sober reflection. It might be time to put away some of those dreams I had as a youth. Like continence.

I'm still not sure where I stand with the whole traditional adulthood thing. I know I'm being a breadwinner and all that, but I don't know about this whole time to settle down and raise a family part. Part of me really wants to do it, but then I spend time around kids and really start to appreciate my cats.

Of course, a lot of these choices are pretty much made for you by biology. As the great L Cohen put it: "I ache in the places I used to play". It feels a bit weird to be dragging your ass up on stage for your punk rock band worried about your knees. I suppose I could just pack it in, but I don't wanna. (Note to self: Ramones tribute song 'I don't wanna pack it in') I honestly don't know what I'd do if I got offered a lucrative record contract right now. I'm pretty much too set in my ways to begin my world tour. And all of us are earning more sucking Satan's dick than we would from any but the biggest record companies. Of course, it's not really an option, since nobody with money likes us.

But what the hell, I'm having a good life. I was born in the year that humans first walked on the moon. And I might live to see a space elevator become a reality. That'd be something. Mind you, I've seen a monkey headed sociopath elected president, so maybe it hasn't all been great.

Shit, I sound like I'm writing my own obituary. Anybody looking for presents, here's a handy way to combine my vices.
  ¶ 11:32 AM 5 comments