Summer broke into my house today after several weeks of rattling at the windows and doors and has proclaimed squatter's rights in my ktichen, from where it refuses to be dislodged even by massive, hi-level ceiling fan action. As a gesture of resignation I got me some Comet and Sonic Youth and did battle in the bathroom instead, and there was much sweeping and scrubbing and pogoing in the soapy bathtub, high risk of neck-breaking be damned.
My radio show starts up again this Thursday, 3:00-4:00 pm (linkage to follow). The format will be a lot like last year's but w/ more of a focus on the new (lady) danceables as opposed to just the ladies, riotous etc. Apparently they're putting AC in the station this week, so it's totes not going to feel as DJ-in-a-desert hardcore as before. For real, I used to worry the vinyl was going to melt and the cassettes were going to drip liquid tape onto the floor.
B/c when Xtina left she took her tv as well as my heart, I have decided to start an Inga Muscio-style mainstream media deprivation experiment. I dunno how useful this is going to be, seeing as how all I ever watched were dorktastic educational documentaries and indie flicks from the li-bary anyway, and I was never exactly a big fan of the Cosmo or the Newsweek. But so far it has meant a whole lot of reading, which is way nice. I'm crushed out on Antonia Fraser's Wives of Henry VIII and its liberal usage of write-yr-own-Decemberists-song words like "hauteur" and "nuncio." Not to mention Lady Tonia herself, whom Wikipedia seems to think had a 3-way w/ Harold Pinter and Vivien Merchant. I'm all up on the Pinter, but snaps, the Merchant thing is too good to be true.
Meanwhile, on the Internetron, I'm in awe of Michael Lukas for fitting Cervantes, Henry James, the Palestinian Declaration of Independence and Tuny Kushner into a 1,000-word Kitchen Sink screed about eating too fast and making it hella fun to read. In awe, dude, in awe.