Man, now that I am done writing about my epic drinking adventure across Europe, I have no idea what I'm supposed to write about on this thing...
I mean, I suppose I could actually talk about...you know, the music, but Jesus, Van Morrison is a bitch of a place to jump back in. I mean, sure...Van's the man and all, but there is so much godwill lost on the number of times you've heard Brown Eyed Girl at your local theme park. Granted Astral Weeks is about as far from that Van as you can get, but still...
I suppose I could talk about the fact that spring seems to have sprung, the sun is out the temperature is up and breasts and legs are back on the menu...but you've heard all that before.
I could mention that my parents and my brother are in town and that we went to Peter Luger's last night for my dad's birthday where we gorged on meat and my mom lost a tooth. Or the plan for the evening to get my brother drunk and laid tonight with the hipster skanks in Williamsburg.
But fuck it, it's a sunny friday and my brain is already out the door and my ass will soon follow. Semi-regular service to commence later.
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