Dub Me Nervous

So, I didn’t put up the post about the Pogues that I wrote after the show two weeks ago. It topped out at 500 words, but I’ll give you a short summary. It went something like this:

I FUCKING LOVE THE POGUES!!!
I’M SO DRUNK RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah.

So anyway, it was a fantastic show. Shane introduced every other song as “The Irish Rover,” even after they’d already played it. He also gave a shout out to Martin McDonagh, who is a helluva playwright. And I, apparently, was drunk.

Last weekend I celebrated my birthday up in Boston, along with my friends Janaka and Peter who are both 27 now, I think. Oh, they keep me young. Boston was fun as usual, but nothing terribly blogworthy happened, except that some yahoo stole my makeup bag and one shoe from my backpack while we were drinking whiskey at the Cellar. In place of these items I found a shitty demo cd by some kid from Denver named Travis. Travis, you homo, I’d like my stuff back please. Also, I hope you get pinkeye and athlete's foot.

I do have something exciting to report this week, but I’m trying not to make a big deal out if it, since I don’t want to muck it up and totally humiliate myself. But it looks as though in the next few days I’ll be interviewing a young man whose literary work I’ve been known to admire. My only goal is to not sound like I could be a guest host on the Chris Farley Show. Oh and also to make out with him.

If anyone has any extra Xanax, I will totally pay you for it.