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Monday, Oct. 20, 2003 - 11:53 a.m.

When I get to Hell, I imagine that it's going to look something like this.

I spent Saturday doing another marathon drive up to New York, load in, mix show, load out, drive home to Philadelphia day. I'm growing accustomed to it. In fact, I don't mind the drive so much. I usually get on the road in the morning after rush hour, so traffic's not too bad. The late night drive home generally goes by pretty fast. It gives me plenty of time to listen to CDs. Really, the biggest pain in the ass is the post-show subway trip out to Brooklyn to get to my car. I've taken to parking my car in downtown Brooklyn, as I can usually find decent parking spots, and it is near where I crash if I need to stay overnight. I had enough problems when I lived in the neighborhood and it would take forever to get home because trains were fucked up for one reason or another. It's even worse when I'm stuck waiting for a train or getting detoured, and I'm just trying to get to my car for my two hour drive home. Ugh.

Yesterday the CD player decided to gouge the hell out of our copy of Fountains of Wayne's Welcome Interstate Managers. Thanks a lot, Sony. Why couldn't you have killed something else from the "F" section of the CD collection? Perhaps the Frogs' My Daughter, the Broad, or that shitty Flying Burrito Brothers live album?

Listening: Buffalo Tom covering "All Tomorrow's Parties".

Contemplating: Mopping the kitchen floor, 'cuz it's looking nasty.


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