"alex useless and sad as nonalcoholic beer"

It's probably like 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I haven't gotten used to telling time with this watch yet, Resa and Beth and I are all in Beth's dorm room and the window is open and I haven't taken my jacket off yet, and I get a call from Jackie. Jacket, Jackie. Somehow her brother ended up with two extra tickets to the Nine Inch Nails show on Tuesday, I didn't hear why because she was talking so fast, but in Jackie's words, we are the kings of getting last-minute concert tickets.

Last Sunday we saw Weezer and the Foo Fighters in concert. For some reason I never got around to mentioning that in my last entry. As it turns out I'm not as big of a Foo Fighters fan as I thought I was, but I must say, Weezer put on a good show, ten times better than I thought it would be, mostly because I knew all the songs except for two or three towards the beginning of the concert.

This December Weezer will tour the land of the rising sun to promote their new album.

Right now, right this very second as I type this, my mom is spooning up Sibby's brand chocolate ice cream, and all I can think of is I'll never ever ever ever ever write a song about the Sibbie, the Sibbie. Did I get that right? One never, four evers?

I just finished reading Jack Frusciante Has Left the Band like 20 minutes ago, and if you're wondering why I'm writing like this again after a 2-year hiatus, well, that book is probably to blame.

What I liked about that book, what I like about books written by foreign authors in general (Jack Frusciante was written by a 19-year-old Italian and is an international best-seller), is how uncomplicated the storylines are. And in the words of Forrest Gump, "And that's all I have to say about that."

Sibby's brand ice cream has too much ice, not enough cream.