88 Ones

• Man. It's been a long week already and it's only Tuesday. The weekend was awesome, though. Ate a Monte Cristo with the folks. Hung out with the Raichile in the Boringest Town on Earth, before riding out to Jacksonville to kill zombies and trivia and chicken parms before Jush straight up actually made it rain to the tune of much more than thirty-one dollars at the stripclub (probably NSFW). All of these things were rad, but they also all screwed up my whole getting used to waking up early thing. (Does it get easier? Ever? Because it's always easy to sleep till noon.)

• I don't know what's going on with the Fader these days. I really don't. First, they take seriously two extra weeks to send me the new issue - which is torturous when you're have to see it in like a bookstore and know that it's available for a free PDF download and that it has a Lil Wayne cover story but you're thinking like, "Well I should wait because I subscribe to this shit and it's going to come sooner or later" - and then they let Nick Catchdubs, a DJ and blogstar who somehow managed to turn capslock and onomatopoeia into a viable journalistic style, slip away from them to go run a record label with A-Trak - the link to which I would include here except that it's a social network link, and I refuse, as you all well know (it's called Fools Gold records, for your searching). Are they trying to make me stop reading their magazine?

• Is anybody going to West Jefferson, North Carolina any time soon? 'Cause even though I'm trying to not drink soda, really, I need to know what non-HFCS cane-sugar style Regular Rocks and Doctor Rocks taste like.

• Thee Famousperson has a blog now. Maybe. It's too early to tell if she's going to keep up with it. So far all that's on there is a picture-less Russian novel of a post that falls well within tl;dr range. (This post, actually, is running the same risk right now. Before you leave, though, check out these Kwik-E Marts!)