Three Martinis

Last week I had no martinis. This evening I had three. I don't know if that makes up for lost martinis, but I gave it the old college try.

Quotable:

"To hell with Freud!"

"That's a very Fred Astaire pose."

On seeing a CD-R labelled "Ultimate Manilow" I remarked to M. that this would be a good name for a death-metal band who did nothing but covers of Barry Manilow songs. Imagine, if you would, "Mandy" done as a death-metal song. Churning guitars and some guy grunting or growling out the lyrics. "Copa Cabana" or "I Write the Songs" ... perfect for a death-metal band. Especially as no one would really get the irony unless they bothered to read the liner notes. I think there's a niche there that needs to be filled.

Along similar lines I was told that a band called "Death Hag" (or something like that) will be playing at a local venue tomorrow night and that they're a literary band. That is they write songs about certain writers, especially sci-fi writers. So there's a Philip K. Dick song, a Thomas Pynchon song and an Isaac Asimov song. The Isaac Asimov song apparently draws attention to Asimov's sideburns, a rather peculiar aspect of Asimov's appearance to make note of ... I'd vote for his spectacles, myself ... but there you have it. All these literary songs are set to speed-core, so I'm not sure how into this I will be. They've got quite a reputation, apparently.

I'm not sure what's up with the local Bag Manufacturers. One minute they ignore me totally, even going out of their way to avoid me, the next they're all chatty. They are either all bi-polar or, as K. suggested, they feed off one another's energy and if one decides to ignore me, they all ignore me. Truly odd.