Saturday Night

Windom Earle practice tonight. We'll be playing Piggy's 'Saturday Night' as part of our Saturday Night performance. Last week after practice, Stephan let me play his wii!!!!!! IT WAS CRAZY!

Fack. I can't wait to get home and make some mashed potaters.

It's not intentional, just coincidence.

I've come to realize that HSR has never EVER done an interview while sober. And we're really not drunk all that often (well, at least not all of us at the same time). I think that it's a miracle that we've yet to recorded saying something completly offensive (even if meant in a jokey context). Saturday night was certainly heading in that direction. After we played our set, a nice CHMA doode--James-- wanted to do an interview. He asked us:

How do you like being a band in Halifax?

Ed: Well it's better than being a band from EYE-raq, or Afghanistan, I guess.

Jen:..... You mean in terms of safety, RIGHT?!

And then Andrew said something about not getting fire bombed on the way up.

The interview moved on to cover topics of comedic situations at funerals, the economy, how we consider our university degrees useless (while we simultaneously DIS-endorsed the University we attended) and finally...

Corey Hart.

Shortly after, Kerri and Katie got kicked out for putting ketchup from the kitchen into a bag. Not their bag. Just a bag. I was both shocked and pleased that I (for once) somehow ceased to be involved in the stupidest situation of the night (no offence).

It was a fun night, it was a messy night.

But not so much for me. As soon as people were getting out of control, I went into instant sober maternal mode of 'taking care of others'. Pffft. Or more like, getting people out before they fuk shi*t up.

Although, not even I could escape Ed's Scorpion from Mortal Combat influenced:

"COME 'ERRRRRRE!!!!!!" + instant facefull of black sambuca.

All in all, Stereophonic fest was a great time. We caught some of Epworth's stellar set at Struts gallery, and thoroughly enjoyed the A/V set. Philip is fearless. What would you do if you were told to do your one man newwave dance show at 9:00pm? At a Roadhouse? That sits on the desolate marsh accross from the old train station? Well, Philly danced on tables, swung mic stands and gave one of the most spirited performances I've seen. It's safe to say that he won that round even though I was the only one to give him a nonencore (NO MORE SONGS!).

I wish I had pictures, but my battery died. I would have totally taken a vid of Andrew's wookie barf, a truly rare occurance:

OOOOOOOOHHAAAAAHBAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

HOOABAH!

But instead of show pics, here is Fudgey pic I like to call: "Fudgey in Dreamland". I'm proud to announce that as Fudgey's mommy I have been invited to take part in Halicats locals. So I guess I'll indulge in my kitty postings there. But here's one more for the books: a lullaby I wrote for Fudgey.

Fudgey Fudgey

Rub-sies Rub-sies (x2)

For you.

And me

But mostly you.

And especially me.

I like your hair & I like your eyes

I like your hugs and all your supri-ses...

repeat to fade

*BEEP*

You have reached the Jenny hotline.

Here are some words that rhyme with blog:

hog.....dog.....cog.....fog.....nog...........bog.......................
spacehog................................thingamabob.......omg

Here are some nicknames I thought of for my kitty, Fudgey:
......vagey.........veggie......lil'wiggum........lil' grandmaster flash
..........lil' precious.......moses.......roses......best kitty ever....
....lil' guy.........


I miss people. I want to see everyone. I am a hermit.

"Vaahge"ey

It's going to be a busy weekend. I am pretty quite stoked to go play at Mt. A. I'm going to wear leggings. Amy gave them to me. They have little skulls on them.

Niall says that sometimes when I call my kitty, Fudgey, I announciate a (long) 'A' sound instead of the the u so it sounds like Vah-gey Faaahgey..... Vaagey is a cool name for a cat. Someone should do this up.

Hi CMAN. Look. I never should have said 'fuck this fucking thing'. It's your entertainment blog and I momentarily forgot my purpose to serve you. I was being selfish. Have you had any interviews for this summer yet? I hope you can law it up near me.

C.S.S.SUX.

Today= Installment #1 of Jenny's Kitty Diaries

I was reading through my usual blog-read-throughs for the first time in awhile. I came across Em's and saw that she deleted pretty much everything and is starting over.

That's something that I've been thinking about for awhile now:

Fuck this fucking thing.

I want to get rid of it--

But here I am--like some kind of emotional pack rat. Just like my hotmail account with emails dating back to 2001. Hunderds of emails from past lovers, ex-friends, past school mates---

And for whatever reason, I CAN'T delete them.

I can't delete anything.

But I guess this blog is the closest thing I have for a diary for the past year and some of my life-- which includes the amnesic gray area of January-May 2006 when I was jobless and a party machine. And it will all make for a good laugh eventually. Although now it just makes me wince.

Yeah. So what I'm saying is, this is going to be strictly cats only from now on, mofos. Johnny will like that. He's pretty awesome. Fudgey is pretty much my favorite thing in the world. I will call today's photo installment "Naughty Fudgey".

Yeah Fudgey's got a bit of a tude...just like his Mommy. But Fudgey doesn't ask Mommy when she's going to live a real life and go to law school, or call her a bitch for having opinions about gasp! bands.

One time I bitched out the Mellotones. To their faces. At the Shoe Shop. At the time, I thought it was comical.

I have no idea why that just crossed my mind.

Anyway, right. Back to the cat: Fudgey is happy when mommy comes home and likes to hug. Warm furry love but with a tude that keeps it real: that's my Fudgey.

2007!

My ass hurts.

I had my first tumble off of Hanna the other night. Luckily, I was bundled up so I didn't get scapes, just bruises. My second pedel fell right off while I was peddling hard, and I went DOWN.
I'm just glad my head didn't get squished by oncoming traffic.

2007:
Lots of things, really. Another continent, a fat HSR cheque (&check?), ends, certainly beginnings.
A 3 year plan from the only man to sign every major record deal on the east coast for the past 12+ years.

Hm.

A lot could happen between now and then (approx 6 months), but I can't wait to get away from Halifax and travel. I think I'm leaving at just the right time before I become thoroughly cynical...wait a minute, I've always been cyncial. What I meant was completely and utterly bitter. But at the same time, I know exactly who I'll miss already: several of those who were at the dance party at KLC's on Friday (see picture). It was a great party. At this point I had to take my sweater off because Stephen got too excited talking about the Johovah's Witnesses' hugging tigers in complete harmony and threw up his arms alas I got a jager soaker. I also have a belt on my head. Whose? Dunno.

Great party.

After dropping off Amy, I begged Niall to stop for garlic fingers at Papa Marios. I asked for a 9" but found that the box seemed quite small, the contents even smaller. The last thing I remember was ranting about how I was going to measure that box in the morning.

Those Garlic fingers were barely a 6".

Papa Mario's = Papa Jerks.