I chalk my silence up to self-inflicted separation anxiety as I prepare myself for the great migration to Chris’ domain. Figure if I ignore Blogger long enough, my leaving it behind to gather dust won’t hurt as much.
Or something absurd like that. See, now I’m just rationalizing my silence… and on a public page, too. Waste of space. Nothing to say. Honest!
In other news, and in direct contradiction of my having nothing to say, especially on the topic of exciting things, let’s talk about Cex. Cex rules. Thanks to Metafilter, I’ve found a musician who writes songs similar to those of Cex. Same quirky-and-off-the-wall antics and everything. Check him out here — Songs to Wear Pants To. Hell ya.
Beyond that, I’m keeping my cards breasted… for now. :)
“…any ballerina can play pinochle while bubble-living with mating rituals, but it takes a real cyprus cab driver to mulch living abstraction.”