A Little Past The Middle Of A List That Never Talks

I remember the very first time I was asked to guest-blog. It was a Saturday of middling temperature (tonight), and the plea (for me to help him reach his unreasonable goal of seven blog posts in a single night) issued like a passive steam from the blanketed Dave-coccoon that had taken over my brother's bed.
So he's asleep, this is Andy talking, and shit's about to get all wordy up in here.

Actually, I'm kind of exhausted - what with the shrieking and the tambourine-palm-banging and the searching for hours for a sound driver that'll make my WELL-MEANING BUT DUMB new computer make sound ~ Windows Vista sucks so hard, goddamn - so maybe I'll go for a more Dave-esque brevity. One sentence per subject.

In succeeding in playing our one demented song at that house party, we defeated what I am convinced must have have been a superteam of cosmic forces, bent on wearying us into silence.

Dave and I went and inspected this house (half-house, thirteen-out-of-twenty-six-house) in Murrumbeena today, and it was pretty much wonderful - affordable, lots of light, bandspace, eccentric layout, enormous backyard (I only realised today how much I've missed having a backyard, these three years I've been in Melbourne... our backyard in Wangaratta was amazing) - which we almost certainly won't be able to get, because we're ragamuffins, and there were families there looking at it today.
With kids.

Speaking of which, there's this band from Olympia called No Kids, and embarrassingly, the main reason that I like them is their loneliness ~ they have this beautiful, tacit way of making that loneliness a quality... something to revere.

New-Computer frustrations. All I use my computer for is to (1) listen to music, (2) watch illicitly-obtained film and television, and (3) use the internet. I did the research, got the exact right whizzbang new one for me ~ because my old one was trying to kill me from beyond the grave ~ and it can't do any of those things at the moment. I wish I could downgrade; sink back into the wonderful windows 98 days... better yet, the halcyon Amiga days... goddamn.
Progress, given how much and how often it's lauded, seems to cause a terrible amount of unsung grief.

And grief should always be sung, no?

~Andy Guest-Blog Terminated