They found one! They found one!
Listening to NPR learnt that those wily rascals in Iraq located one of those trucks-cum-chem-labs that Colin Powell lectured about a while back to the UN, who didn't buy his tale for one second.
Haven't heard back yet from my French family, who I assured that I (and all my friends and acquaintances, as far as I know) completely agree with their princely prez.
Countdown to studenthood and this is your mission: please send me some cash (what you can muster), some pink pearl erasers, some ear plugs, some cd's of your choosing and other sundry office supplies. As well as giftcards to Starbucks. As Jason so wisely observed, NYC (believe this or not) is short on mom-n-pop coffee joints so it's Starbucks... not a bad thing. It was whilst sitting in a lower Man. *BX (a stone's toss from Ground Z) that I am, I think, addicted to the bean. Could be worse. I was waiting for Jason and Dorota to unsubmerge from Century 21 with bargoons galore as I sipped and sipped.
On the hi-fi is Flaming Lips' excellent cover of Shakira's Can't Get You Out of My Head = sublime.
Your homework assignment: purchase the Lips' ep Fight Test.
Over and out and over and over.
Love of springtime flailing prehistoric millipedes who offer up domestic *surprise*.

Pearl Jam Friday night so captured my imagination (post-soul stealing of them by Yours Truly) that I was inspired to purchase their hi-end 100% polyester soccer jersey-style concert t with large embroidered P and J on either side of a lightning bolt = BOSS.
They dedicated Given to Fly to Vinnie Gallo.
Last night's Dave Davies (puffy, badly dressed) gig left me feeling Am I missing something here? Approached the exit and saw two cronies who had the similar feeling - one of them felt like she was seeing a former superstar on a county fair stage.