Almighty God who knoweth all please kill or cause the demise of the big crow outside my house, specifically my bedroom window, who crows every fucking AM really early causing me to wake to its Hitchcock strains. Thanks in advance.

Ben Folds is playing this week's freebie en plain air concert downtown. And could I be more un-psyched? Yes. I've seen him before, when he was Ben Folds Five. Today on the radio an astute station employee (I believe there are hardly any live humans on the air and now it's all prerecorded... I heard the fake woman's voice blip and it was onto an 80s Police song this afternoon) played that godawful song that Ben F wrote about taking his girlie pal to the abortion clinic and all the attendant psychodrama that accompanied that. Suh-nooze. He might need pyrotechnics to jazz up his set.

Speaking of exploding devices I can hardly contain my excitement for the pending Day of Independence as I have a supersecret cache of pyros... and Eric has an equal cache imported from out west. I'm skipping crossing the Canadian border this July, I'll be adding to the collection (one can never ever have enough explosives on hand) via a drive to Pennsyltucky.

I love tradition. And what do I love more than the good ol' tradition of eating white trash food, drinking too much and exploding shit? Shoe shopping in NYC with Dorota. Now that's a perfect freakin' day.
Over and Out.
My love.