nah pop, no style

This weekend, some things happened.

I passed up stopping at the liquor store on Centre across from Neville because there was a guy begging for change in front of it and I can’t buy alcohol in front of a begging person because of the guilt factor. So I ended up walking all the way to the NEW WINE AND SPIRITS SUPER STORE, basically a supermarket of alcohol, in the new shopping plaza by Whole Foods. It was an impressive display. The clerk, a managerial-looking man, asked for my ZIP code and I thought I gave it easily, but he seemed to think I was resistant, because he explained that the state was taking a survey, and I wouldn’t get junk mail or anything. I thanked him and explained that if the state sent me junk mail that was addressed simply to my name and ZIP code, it would have a hard time finding me anyway. He did not laugh.

I drank alone while watching Christmas specials. Yes, egg nog. No, I’m not joking.

I saw Centipede and Parts & Labor at Gooski’s. Centipede was excellent as always. Parts & Labor are odd — sort of like a toned-down Lightning Bolt thing, with very pop-punk style vocals over that. Nothing BAD, just kind of unusual, and maybe not something that I’d listen to at home.

I went to a potluck and listened to a crazy dude talk about all the authors he’s read and about the key to understanding Tolstoy or some such nonsense.

I further prepared myself for the reading on Thursday.

I saw a front door on Pearl Street that was wrapped up like a gift, bow and all, and had a handwritten noted taped to it saying: “Open me first!” And I laughed. Each of the several times I passed it.

I didn’t do any Christmas shopping, or making.

I’m about to go to sleep.