Went to see Franz Ferdinand last night.

They seem to be at the top of their game and all, but I guess I'm no longer totally jazzed about them. Also, twas hilariously contemptible that the lame-o couple in front of me actually decided to make out after that Eleanor Friedberger-inspired love song. I mean, dudes, yes, it is a love song I suppose, but it is very specifically not about you. Weirdness. Makes me think of those people who make out to REM's The One I Love. Anyways, Cut Copy supported and were, of course, great.

Moving on, a mini-identity crisis has just come upon me. See, I was picking up the mail this morning in my temporary professional capacity, and got a message from Laurie saying how she can't believe it, but The OC is actually a good show. And I was like, yeah... hey, what? Bit random, no? And then I just checked the blog and read Simon's comment on Monday's post:

In other, more important news: did anyone tape the OC, I repeat, did ANYONE tape the OC???!!!

To which I now reply:

OH. GOD. I. DID. NOT. EVEN. KNOW. IT. WAS. ON.

JESUS!

Thus the identity crisis. I mean, I DIDN'T KNOW... ME! And I can't even remember the last time I read the Green Guide back-to-front, or even at all. This is truly shocking.

However, all I can say is, thank goodness for LimeWire.

LimeWire, Simon. LimeWire.