You're going to die

There was a brilliant idea thrown out into the cosmos tonight. Basically, when we all turn thirty, we get new names. Just first names, but new ones. Names that will really comprise the fanny packs, minivans, and mustaches in our future. Names that actually make you feel LESS alive everytime you hear them. For instance, Wolverine, upon commencement of his thirtieth birthday will henceforth be known as Rick. And Gambit will be known as Roger. This gets decided by whoever comprises the friend counsel with which you surround yourself. Those are just guy examples. The ladies at the table were given the names Debra, Anne, and Carol.

Yo la Tengo! was not what I thought they were. And I still let them off the hook. (I could listen to Mr. Green's soundbite endlessly) But yeah, YL to the T was way moe jam-bandish than I would have hoped. I inhaled more pot than ever before, too. On the upside, I did find $20. I'm not keeping it, just trying to figure out a good use for it. I'll keep you posted.

Ah, Girls Gone Wild. If anorexic pornstars who look slightly comatose pretending to be hapless coeds and pawing at each other for the "first time" doesn't turn you on, you're probably dead.