I would tell you that I have just returned home from a brilliant gig by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and The Liars, but I feel that I have tortured you enough in detailing the fortunacies of my fortunate life, and have probably also tested the devotion of you all with my incessant crowing. I mean, all I did was buy some tickets and go to a few venues, right? No great skill there. And heaps of losers who think they are cool go to gigs. So why should I lord it over you so madly? Basking so self-regardingly in reflected glory is such a loserish ridiculous thing to do, you know. Oh well. Waaaaaaaaaaa! Yeah! Freakin fabulous, man! Wooo-hoo! Yeaaaah! Fuckin yeah! Sorry. But I do have good reason. You see, we walked in and found a pozzie in which to wait out the opening act, and, would you believe it, but we were right next to Karen O! And, yes, it really was the real Karen O, and not one of her imitators, who were of course legion. I was aware of that possibility, so I double-[triple, quadruple, quintuple etc.] checked, just to be sure that it was really her. And when I was sure, I checked again, just to drink in the wonder that is she. We were right next to her! And though I doubt that I impressed her at all with my presence [I was at the time presenting as a fat sweaty blob] I nonetheless can cherish the fact that for a period of time in my measly little life, she was mingling with the people and the people were us! Yay! And then later, Nick Zinner sidled past us while beating a path through the throng. Yay! But it is ridiculous to gloat about such chance encounters. They of course mean little, and serve only to reveal how close we can be but how far we actually are from the glittering world of brilliant rock personalities. But still, such moments feel awkwardly spectacular. Yay!

Oh, and the gig run is over now so expect future posts to reach out to you from a place of dejected bitterness. Fair warning.