No one asked me about it, but I had a near-brush with national news on Friday afternoon. This bold hate crime occurred one block away from the Westward Seafoods office where I work. Luckily my natural inclination towards laziness led me to split half an hour before my usual quitting time of 4:00pm, which is exactly when the would-be massacre took place. The whole area was shut down tight by police, and while I wouldn't have been in any immediate danger if I had left work on time, I would have been stuck downtown indefintely surrounded by frightened, confused crowds and nervous cops with guns drawn. Once again, being a slacker has saved me from a potentially inconvenient situation. As the great Merle Haggard says, I take a lot of pride in what I am.

TROUBLED MEN AND HUNGRY WOMEN

The End Times had another chaotic, wine-drunk practice session Sunday afternoon, this time with a girl piano player who had never heard the songs before. There's potential aplenty in all this confusion, but it's gonna take a while for me to cook it down into a smokable form. Still, I'm pleased with my new songs, Kate is picking up the words fast, and even if he can't play the damn thing yet, Tyson owns and operates a lap steel guitar and he's working out the kinks with great patience and dedication. I'm endlessly thankful for their continued interest in helping to spread my message of paranoia, despair and true love. With any luck we'll be making shambolic live appearances before small groups of uninterested people before the apocalypse takes us all by surprise.

RUN PIG RUN



I've heard the stories, but never actually stole a gander at the BLACK PANTHER COLORING BOOK. Wow.

Thanks to Sharpeworld.

Here's one high I haven't tried yet ... but I'm square, baby, I don't even know where to buy mothballs.

I LOVE YOU SO GODDAMN MUCH ...

My man Ken Knott gets remembered fondly for his work with VIOLENT APATHY on 7inchpunk.com. A few years before my time ... I'm more of a JUST SAY NO man myself, but to each his own.

Actually, perusing tub thumper Randy Huisken's JSN memory bank proved even more fruitful than I expected ... dig his page celebrating Lansing's long lost CROTCH, featuring my former muse Suzi "Boobs" Miller. Download "Flattered To Be Battered" and prepare to drop your fucking jaw.

Mark Deming spiels about the Minutemen documentary WE JAM ECONO on AMG.

The four dark winds of time collide and then the earth implodes, just as it was predicted before time even existed. There is no one to blame, not even God.

The wife and I moved into a new apartment without great incident last weekend, and despite having less space than the old joint, we're fitting in fine. Far from the maddening crowds of tweaked-out streetkids and oblivious fratfolk that swarm the University District, the Greenlake neighborhood is downright serene, a bit yuppified (a bit? a lot) but we don't care. We're mere blocks from the lake, a ten-minute walk to the library and there are some great bars nearby. Come on by and say hello some time (you'll have to figure out our address first - good luck with that).

Sounds like there might be some more SLA noise coming in future months. More news as plans are confirmed ...