Right now

I am doing my taxes and listening to Fugazi. The irony has not escaped me.

Signing Off, Signing On

It was a long trip back to SF, but I'm here, safe and sound.















A few flights, delayed mostly. Nothing like booking a trans-Atlantic flight 24 hours before it leaves to ensure a thorough security screening and maybe a middle seat. Good times.


















Psssst. If you were wondering about the chemical makeup of meth, check the bathrooms at SFO. Truly bizarre.

















Ecstacy?
















Tour bed.

















Home bed.
















I made it out to the beach yesterday. It was missed.
















End of tour bonus. I bought a juicer, oh, and lots of fruit. Most of the kitchen is orange and stickey, but we are all better off because of it, I promise.




















So, today I agreed to the Interpol tour. I don't really know what that means. An end to the rigors of the arcade fire maybe? I am looking forward to being out on tour with my pals again. I don't mean to be vague, it has just all fallen into place rather quickly. I haven't had much time to weigh the pros and cons of it all.