Seemingly everyone I've known in the past ten years decided to call me tonight.
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Including Mr. Rockstar, telling me how they've all reached the point on tour where they meet in someone's hotel room, put in a movie, and none of them can stay awake long enough to watch the whole thing...the tragedy of middle-aged rockers...
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Speaking of middle-aged rockers, does anyone besides me think Henry Rollins is the posiest of poseurs? He's gone from being the punk-rock Bukowski wannabe to some kind of weird politically bent ranter. And anyone who has to go around publicly proclaiming his toughness and intellect is neither tough nor intelligent.
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Me? I'm a delicate flower. *cough*
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In the "you injuns shore is funny" department: Super-special thanks to "Man Who Should Be Writing His Book Instead of Emailing Me Stupid Shit" for the truly funny note today. Weirdo.
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Now if you'll all excuse me, it's time for my new favorite nightly activity - turning off all the lights and laying on the floor and staring at the gorgeous moon pouring in my windows...
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