I loved Ben Folds Five. I haven’t listened to any of the old albums in months because of my recent addiction to trancey techno stuff. I’m down here browsing (wondering what the hell I’m doing online at 10:50 on a Sunday evening with a splitting headache) listening to Underground, Best Imitation of Myself and their last album, with Narcolepsy and Don’t Change Your Plans (a song that reminds me of The Royal Tenenbaums for no good reason). The music is so infectiously happy without being stupid or vapid. It’s bouncy without being cliche, and intelligent without being snobbish. You can rock out to a piano, Virginia. Be proud of your White-man-rocking-underbite while you jam out, underground, underground, woooo, underground (everyone’s happy underground).
I spent today recovering from painting the guest bedroom (mostly recovering from painting the ceiling). Painting ceilings sucks. There’s no graceful way to hold a roller on a six foot pole that won’t pull every delicate muscle in your back. And only a week recovered from my neck thing, you’d think I’d take it easy. Nope, I’m Mr. McPainty-Pants.
I’m gonna go medicate and go to bed. See ya tomorrow morning, bright, early and online as usual.
