From HQ

It is a banner day here at B-ristica Internationale: surely there must be some mistake, some glitch in the numbers which has caused the "profile views" section to jump into the seventies. No matter, we are breaking out the champagne anyway, throwing a veritable party, to invoke the song. Because, realize: that is not even the official tally of who has visited or demonstrated some interest, which is way higher. Amazing.

In any case, as promised, we here at B-ristica Internationale will settle for bringing you no less than the absolute best–or worst, as the case may be. It was a mundane weekend. The most mundane of mundane weekends, really. That’s the way we kick it, sometimes. You hang out with people who have colds, you get sick. That’s how it goes. And besides, was I not looking out the window this morning and thinking profound thoughts. A contemplative look, you might imagine. Stroking my chin. This is life, I said to myself. It is comprised of these moments, drizzle coming down. Sure, you go to a party once in a while, work it out. But really, those are just things you tell people about later, which is totally different from actual living. Never mind, though. Forget I just said that. I see you giving me weird looks, B.; yeah, I’m looking at you. I never should have taken that philosophy class in college. One book into the semester and years of indoctrination and social training are thrown out the window.

Getting a little heavy there. Sorry. The rest of the weekend was spent in the gluttonous fashion of putting as many albums onto the Ipod as humanly possible in a day. Something akin to the chubby kid in a Ponderosa Steakhouse, with no parental supervision and full-on access to the salad bar. That pretty much typifies my relationship with music. Yeah, I’ll probably never listen to this Dinosaur Jr. import I just found under the bed, but fuck it because there’s pretty much room there for whatever. The attendants come over and I have ice-cream all over my face. "What?" I yell from behind the headphones. "I can’t hear you." That’s pretty much apropos, though, because remember: we are having a party.