My Brain Gear

I am all over the boys to the left, aesthetically speaking.

Gifted with Yahoo Jukebox, I tune to "My Station" on occasion to inundate my innocent ears with the possibilities of new, much needed wonderful music. It went for an hour before I was captured. Catapulted out of complacency by the sounds of The Fratellis and their glorious album, Costello Music.

After listening to it about a gazillion times, I still love it. Enough to do thorough checks and find a show coming my way at a venue I adore, The Pabst Theater. Energetic, fun as hell, you can jump like an idiot to it, thrashing your hair in a fetching 'I am a spazz' kind of way. Rock 'n roll with all the beats and grooves any needy ass sitter a.k.a. writer could want, with a touch of T. Rex to make the brain open wide. Musically, a whine-free zone smashed full of guitars. Thank you, Scotland!

Let Me Introduce My Friends and The Flaming Lips have also made Jen a happy, chair dancing girl as she edits, edits, edits the anthology and various stories sitting in limbo until her brain was chipper again.

Staying up until dawn, I was able to fill my head with Will Storr, The Outlaw Bible of American Literature and The Black House by two creepy boys named King and Straub. I fueled my sleep starved body with Trader Joe ambrosia's in the form of Trader Ming's Won Ton Chips - Chinese Mustard Flavor and their Moka Java. Oh, what a gloriously spoiled girl I am!

What marvelous things did you sate yourself with this weekend?

P.S. Did I ever tell you that I have the biggest brain and soul crush ever recorded in all of history on hyper-smart, bold and word-sagacious Henry Rollins?

P.S.S. Have you ever noticed what a wonder adrenaline is?

P.S.S.S. One could spend much of one's life cleaning a glass desk if one were to spend a weekend glued to a chair tucked under said desk as one's brain, steeped in caffeine and vitamin B, noticed new splotches and dreaded gobs of 'stuff' every three seconds as one weeded through words on a glowing screen.

P.S.S.S.S. How many S.'s are one allowed before the Post Script gods come down in a thunderous rage and smash one on the head with one's keyboard? I'll let you know later....


AnswerGirl said...

Henry Rollins. I met him once. In DC. Probably 20 years ago, now.

I would mop his kitchen floor with my hair. I don't even mop my own kitchen floor, most of the time.

Jennifer Jordan said...

And I don't think that is in the least an overstatement of your case. As my hair isn't up to the task, I am wont to think of another domestic task that would paint an image of such true devotion...

Anonymous said...

I now see you as a small yippy dog that I am afraid will either bite my ankles or pee all over me.

Jennifer Jordan said...

For that comment, consider yourself peed on... ruff! Ruff,ruff,ruff!!