Wow, Tempus frickin fugit..
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Life

Okay, so it's been a couple of months since I last posted any kind of blog... sorry about being remiss in my duties of entertaining people, but I've kinda not known what to say or how to say it for quite a while.  Most people who read this know that I was slid gently out of the archaeology world last year due to budget cuts.  My contract and a passel of others were just not renewed because the govenment has better ways to mismanage money than by employing people to meet its federal requirements for the public trust.  So most of last year was the great job hunt, even requiring that I go on the dehumanizing gauntlet called "Unemployment".  Not a comment on anyone going to the Unemployment well, that's what it's there for, but the actual process is soul crushingly awful.  At least here in Texas it is.  

I don't really feel like going into the whole job hunt process right now, but I sent out reams of resumes, recieved a handful of rejections, interviewed with four or five places that sounded really promising, got a couple of preliminary offers from places that wanted me at 3/4 or less of what I was making at Ft Hood (no possibility of reloction assistance or any assurance of position after a year, but come work for us for quite a bit less!).  Such are the tides and tribulations of this modern world's employment environment.  In November, I finally landed a gig (and a damn good one) at a company called NewTec just a stone's throw down the hill from the archaeology office where I worked for the past several years. 

I haven't decided if I have made a career change yet, but I am now a Test Officer for this company.  We test to make sure different types of systems that are used by the army are able to talk with each other fully and reliably, thus helping to keep soldier alive and prevent some of those 'oopsies' in the equipment that big corps sell to the DoD and end up costing millions and millions of dollars when they don't work right.  So the job is frequently challenging and I work with some genuinely kick-ass new folks, but at the same time, it's hard to leave the word of curation behind...  I miss handling 3000 year old arifacts and ancient faunal specemins.  I don't know what the future holds here, but it's a nice place to be docked while I'm figuring out what might be out there. 

The rest of the family are well.  Rachel is doing well, still working at Integrity Rehab.  Lexi is finishing her first year of school and has been loving it.  She bouces between being a girly-girl and a geek girl.  She normally wants me to read her Justice League Unlimited for bedtime stories.  Corbin is aout 2 1/2 now and a little firebrand.  He is obsessed with dinosaurs and likes to watch my Discovery Channel 'Walking with Prehistoric Beasts' shows.  The kids typically ask for They Might Be Giants or Warren Zevon when we are driving, so I must be doing something right.

Currently listening : In Spite of Ourselves By John Prine Release date: 1999-09-14

9:36 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

I think my tongue just had an orgasm
Current mood: refreshed
Category: Food and Restaurants

So, a couple'a nights ago... nothing was particularly wrong, I was just having a "Man PMS" kind of day.  Things weren't going crappy, just not particularly right and I was feeling bleh.  I was home and the kids were in bed.  Rachel was out at a friend's house doing craft things and I reached a decision.  Calling here up, I informed my wife that I would not be allowing her back in the house unless she brought me ice cream.  I placed no demands on flavors, brands, or quantity, I just needed ice cream to breath some sunshine into my existence.  You can't eat your way to happy, but by god, sometimes you have to scratch the damn itch.

It was about 10:30 or so when Crafty-girl rolled in and she was very excited about a project she's working on for her mom for Christmas (and she should be  very proud, because it looks great.) and started telling me about all the stuff she had done.  I waited patiently as she detailed the progress she's made... I must have waited for at least 30 seconds before interrupting her. 

"Where's my ice cream?" I asked very calmly.

"Oh...poop!" replied Rachel, the flush of crafting exhultation turning to a deer in the headlights blankness.

"Leave my house now.  You may return when you bring me ice cream.  Good day, madam" I held the door open, "I said 'good day'."

Rachel sheepishly turned walked back into the night.  I returned to putzing around on the computer and lamenting the ice cream shaped hole in my soul.

She returned very shortly (having just run to the 7-11 at the end of our road) with a plastic bag and a look of acceptable contrition.  "I'm really sorry about earlier," she said "I was just excited...I think you're going to like what I got you..."

"If it's ice cream, I have little doubt.  If it's not ice cream, I will tell the children that you were a good mother, but could not be kept on."

An angelic host did not audibly sing when she pulled the pint of Ben & Jerry's out of the bag, but it should have. It was at this point my intelligent, patient, and completely wonderful wife brought Steven Colbert's AmeriCone Dream into my life. Being a BIG Colbert fan, I was immediatly amused, but didn't have too great a hopes.  It takes more than in endorsment to mean anything substantive to me, even from Colbert, but his ice cream is sublime...

From the Ben & Jerry's website "The flavor, Stephen Colbert's AmeriCone Dream-- is a decadent melting pot of vanilla ice cream with fudge-covered waffle cone pieces and a caramel swirl. It's the sweet taste of liberty in your mouth."  It is true, oh God, it is true.  This simple pint owned me.  It made me it's bitch and made me like it.  It has replaced all other confectionary dieties that came before it.  It is the alpha and omega of dessert.  Toppling other B&J flavors like Blackberry Cobbler, the gone-but-never-forgotten seasonal titan Festivus, and the aptly named Chubby Hubby; even Godiva's Vanilla Black Raspberry or the Chocolate Orange Vanilla at the Morelli's counter in Harrods. 

There was a ice cream shaped hole in my soul.  Steven Colbert filled that hole, but I have my wife to thank...

Currently reading : Night Watch By Terry Pratchett Release date: 30 September, 2003

8:02 PM - 4 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Just something that annoys me.
Current mood: hopeful
Category: Life

Whay the holy hell do car dealerships still use the frickin' Ghostbusters theme song in their advertising??  Who ya gonna call?  Not you, you unoriginal annoying fucktard!  I've heard dealerships in Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Missouri, New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas advertise with the goddamn song and frankly I can't see how it would be appealing.  Ghostbusters was a great movie, but let's keep it back in the 80s.

I also don't get the connection between monkeys/chimps and car dealerships.    Granted, I liked the Trunk Monkey commercials and if they were including one, that would be acceptable. But why force some minimum wage shmuck into a monkey mascot suit to jump up and down for three hours in the Texas sun with a placard advertizing your lot?  Why are you putting a chimp on a billboard with an SUV?  I've heard that there was correlation between monkeys and higher sales, but really?  Photoshopping a chimp and car together just seems like a no effort solution to me.  Our primate relatives rock, but they don't make me want to buy a Buick.  Actually, having owned a Buick, nothing makes me want to buy a Buick.

I would like to see and hear from a dealership who's whole focus of advertising is: Here are the cars we have.  We are working hard to get them to you at a great price.  We can arrange special orders or different packages, free if possible, at a small upcharge if necessary.  We would prefer it to be free, but we can't always make it happen.  To achieve this, we won't spend money on balloons, or streamers, or flags, or banners, or inflatable mokeys or blow-up slides... we will use that money to send a licenced, CPR certified baby-sitter to your house for up to four hours so that you and your spouse can shop our lots at your leisure without having to worry about your kids screaming about wanting the balloons that are tied to our antennas... there are no balloons for the kids to want and no kids to distract you.  Be at peace.  Find something that will make you happy. 

Anyway, that's just what was on my mind.

Currently reading : DC Universe: Trail of Time (Dc Universe) By Jeff Mariotte Release date: 01 February, 2007

10:22 PM - 5 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Of cockroaches and fireflys
Current mood: geeky
Category: Life

So I'm beginning to think my daughter is frickin' River Tam.  Because of the relatively wet weather we've had this year, we have had a nasty influx of cockroaches recently and a couple of mornings ago, there was one of the disgusting little critters in the kitchen.  Lexi was walking through getting ready for school and looked over and said to Rachel "I see an object.  It is brown, in a box and twitchy."  Rachel, slightly befuddled at what the hell she could be talking about, looked over and freaked ever so slightly as it ran out of the stoneware baking dish box on top of the mircowave.  "The object it is," said Lex matter-of-factly "is a cockroach."  I was in the back of the house and got there just in time to see the brown bastard retreat into the crack between the wall and dishwasher.  "I want you to kill that object," said Rachel.  I have been close twice, and killed 4 or 5 around the outside of the house, but Object is still haunting his niche around the dishwasher.

Lexi freqeuntly has interesting turns of phrase when she's describing things, though.  The 'object' example is just one of many.  Yesterday, we were on the way to pick up Corbin after she had gone to soccer practice and she had a waterbottle in the backseat.  I wasn't really paying attention until she said "Here, Dad" and handed me a wad of waterbottle label.  I wasn't going to complain too much, because I use to peel labels all the time and I know she comes by it honestly, but I didn't want to just let it slide.  I said "So you've ripped all of the label off of your drink, then?"  "No," she said, "I just exposed it's spine and ribs.  She held up the bottle and showed me the "spine" where the label was glued to the bottle and the ribs were the ridges running around it.  "His head pops up and down."  So it did. 

I'm jsut waiting for "2 by 2, hands of blue."

Currently watching : The Illusionist (Widescreen Edition) Release date: 09 January, 2007

10:35 PM - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

The State of Mankind
Current mood: mellow
Category: Life

It is a sad day when one dips into the Barry Sonnefeld bucket to look for philosophical consolation ("The Tick" and "Big Trouble" notwithstanding), but there I am.  I continue to think of Agent K's words to his young protegee in Men in Black - "A person is smart.  People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals."  As a general rule my opinion of humanity is pretty low.  By and large, I think that people are stupid, short-sighted, hyper-reactionary twits.  That of course is my opinion, nothing more or less.

I think the Bard was correct in Hamlets alternating admiration and disgust in the 'What a piece of work is man' soliloquie... he perfectly describes the potential of humanity.  Unfortunately, the rude everyday face of the person you see at the grocery store yelling at thier kid to sit down and shut up is much more emblematic of where we are as a species than 'How noble in reason!  How infinite in faculties!"  Man delights not me.  Nor woman neither.  Except for maybe Eva Mendez... or Rosario Dawson...  or Eva Mendez WITH Rosario Dawson.  Holy shit, I'm **WAY** delighted now!!

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Okay, I'm back.  I just had some, uh, contemplation on weighty topics.  Anyway.  Yeah, overall, people suck.  They are shitty to each other and themselves (or worst of all, to *me*).  Blah, blah, blah... I'm just fed up with the carelessness and the general rudeness and meaness for simply the sake of being rude or mean.  I the last two days I've almost been merged into 5 times, seen some asswipe swerve to try to hit a dog (he missed), nearly been sidesiped by some dipshit that zipped out of a covered driveway onto a rainslicked road and almost fish-tailed into my truck with my kids in the back seat, and told I was going to Hell because I was looking at role-playing games in Hastings (our sad local attempt at a mega-bookstore) by a woman who was looking at, (sorry to channel Dave Berry here) I kid you not, 'The Complete Idiot's Guide to Amazing Sex'.  She and I were sharing an aisle because the RPG stuff faces the sex, sexuality and pop culture row (I love the juxtaposition there) and apparently my browsing at Weapons of Legacy annoyed her and she was afraid I was going to do something like produce a chicken out of thin air and inscribe a pentagram there in the aisle with it's blood.  That last part is a bit of speculation.  

Anyway, she's going off about how I'm a corruptor and will reap what I sow, and she shouldn't have to be forced to see our evil games when she wants to look at books.  Well, when called a devil, I do tend to play devil's advocate and got into a debate about how some church groups would say that the 'Oral Pleasure' section she had been looking at qualifies as sodomy (actually I heard someone from the church I go to here agreeing to that view a few months ago).  But I'm also a Uniter, not a Devider, so I ended up saying "Well, this can be solved easily.  I don't have to look at this filth in your presence... I'll look at the same filth as you!"  And I picked up the first thing with a nice voluptuous cover that I saw, 'Quickies' by Tracie Cox (sure, we can assume it's her real name...).  She was already fuming and turning when I said "Oh look, on a washing machine...wacky!"

She threw her book down on the floor (I mean really, what a triple-rude bitch!  Why make an innocent book the victim of your Righteous Indignation?) and started to walk out of the aisle, so I had to give one parting shot.  In a nice, loud and helpful voice I politely asked her "Miss, you dropped your copy of 'The Complete Idiots Guide to Sex'!  Were you wanting that?"  Unfortunately it was relatively early and the store was pretty empty.    

Now, on the other hand, I was out at Lowe's yesterday getting some supplies for a project that a friend needed done (a blockade so kids quit crawling under a receptionist's desk and turning off the computers).  I was trying to get a big, wind-catching sheet of plywood into my truck bed and for the past couple of days my shoulder has been feeling loose like when it tries to pop out of socket (an old 'throwing my friend John into a snowbank' injury that gives me grief about once every year or so).  So between wind and shoulder I was dreading wrestling the wooden parasail into the truck.  Suddenly, a guy appears out of nowhere (okay, probably from where my view was blocked by the plywood), says "Need an extra hand gettin' it in the back?" and grabs an end without waiting.  Up and ready in the back in a blink, and the dude is already heading off up to the store, not waiting for a thanks or anything.  Just the right kindness for the right person and the right time.  Thanks dude, wherever you are.  Nice to know there are some nice folks out there.  I'm sure you're foible-ridden just like me and everyone else on the planet, but for today, you are my sanity saving paragon of how people can get things just perfectly right.

Currently listening : Sister Sweetly By Big Head Todd & the Monsters Release date: 23 February, 1993

11:41 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Stupid frickin’ cars!
Current mood: annoyed
Category: Automotive

Well, actually a lot more like stupid frickin' drivers!  I'm really starting to feel like an old fart, but I really don't care.  Killeen is a hotbed of car-tards.  Dumbass kids tricking out their rides, putting on spoilers, spinners, ugly-assed paint jobs that look like polycromatic bowel movements.  And it goes on.  and on.  and on.

Of course, regional pride plays a big part . . . people with a sticker of Louisiana or Georgia that takes up three quarters of their back windshield with area code digits cut out and quaintly misspelled desriptions of the persons gender.  Like '318 BOI' or '745 GURL' or '409 CLEENRZ'.  Occasionally, the driver wants to advertise their affection for themselves (like 'Mizz Dianah Rea' or 'Honey's Sweet Ride') or the percieved status of their place in the afterlire (such as ANNOINTED[sic] GENERATION). 

My favorite one so far was on the back some sweet little green Beemer that slid past me a few weeks ago.  The girl 'driving' was spending most of her undoubtedly copious mental energies drinking her soda (or energy drink) and talking on her cell phone.  I could see her quite clearly as she nearly side-swiped me.  She apparently had her car set to hand's-free mode.  The best part was, once she wobbled past me, the letters across her rear window proudly proclaming her to be a "DADDIES GIRL".  I was tempted to run her off the road just to help teach her the subtle differences between posessive and plural, but I was honestly worried she might have a good reason for the way she had it worded.

The ultimate came a few days ago when I was stopped at a light here in town and a little yellow number pulled up next to me.  I was listening to an interesting interview on Fresh Air about addictive behaviors and how regardless of type, the manifestations are very similar when I noticed the thumping bass start to intrude on my conciousness.  I tried to mentally push it away and listen to Terry Gross and the CDC lady, but the rhythm kept creeping in.  What suprised me was that I could tell I knew the song.  I looked over and the dude was bopping his head to his tunes.  Looked like a young soldier . . . not surprising, lots of young guys buy sporty cars with loud stereo systems.  Only most of the time, they are either pumping out rap or hip-hop, so it's not overly likely for me to be familiar with what they are playing.  But I knew this . . . what was it? . . . WAIT!! . . . this is motherfuckin' Rick Astley?!?  Good God, it is . . . never gonna give, never gonna give, never gonna give you up.  Dude, turn in your damn testicles now, you don't need them anymore.  If you lived in the 80s, you get a pass. Hell, if you're having an 80s party, you can have a pass.  You do not have a pass if you are 25 year old or younger male and sitting in a Mitsubishi Eclipse with the radio set to "vibrate the neighbor's fillings".  Hell, my gay friends wouldn't even do that.  Granted, my gay friends are all old enough to know who Rick Astly was in the 80s, so they would fall under the 'get a pass' list.  

Soon the light changed, I went straight, he did not.  I like to believe that was some sort of metaphor for life and that he was headed for a lovely night of clubbing and Appletinis down in Austin.    

Currently listening : Hold Me in Your Arms By Rick Astley Release date: 25 October, 1990

7:46 PM - 3 Comments - 1 Kudos - Add Comment

12 years of connubial bliss
Current mood: chipper
Category: Romance and Relationships

Rachel and I just celebrated our 12 year wedding anniversary yesterday.  Nothing exciting or monumental, but we had a nice time.  We got the presents out of the way well before yesterday (mine was the trip to Origins gaming con, hers was a full treatment with her hairdresser...she wanted to try something new)  and we were both verily pleased with them.  I actually wrote a blog about the Origins trip, but  myspace at it and I don't think I can write the whole thing up agin.  I'll probably do a highlights post tonight.

As for our anniversary, it is a tradition for us to go out to Red Lobster.  This dates back to when I was in grad school and that would constitute a 'big treat'.  Since Lexi was born, we've gotten a sitter, got dressed up a bit, and gone out for a small night on the town...this being Killeen, that's fine...there's not that much to occupy yourself with around here. 

This year we hit a kind of wall and said "Why are we putting ourselves through this??  This is Texas in July and it's steamy because we've been having a frickin' monsoon!  Do we really need to be encasing ourselves in our 'dress-up clothes' to stew outside for twenty minutes waiting for our table?"  We decided that the answer to that was no.  We went in comfortable clothes and on the way there, we talked about the last decade and a bit.

It's interesting.   A lot of times we joke about sharing a brain, but it many instances, that is the truth of the matter.  The fact that we are comfortable enough around each other to talk about...well, anything I can think of.  Sex is fine, religion is fine, politics is fine.  We don't agree on everything, but there's enough comfort that anything is okay.  I think that it's a bit of a Texas thing, but there are a lot of our friends who just cannot or will not talk with thier spouse about the big stuff.  I don't know, I think that's freakish.  Not being able to talk to your wife about sex?  Um, that's the one person on the earth that you should be able to dialogue about that with.

All in all, it just boils down to me being lucky.  In Rachel, I've really found a partner for the rest of my life.  It sounds hokey to say it, but It sounds stupid not to admit it. 

Oh, and because Rachel is allergic to shellfish, she took a benedryl before supper and by the end, she was slurring like she'd had three tee many martoonies.  She stumbled to the car with dignity, but she also looked like she was trippin' on more than the curb.  She sat on the bed as soon as we got home and was asleep, still dressed, by 8:45.  I stayed up, read, watched a movie, dicked around on the computer.  It was still a perfectly nice anniversary, it was very comfortable. 

Currently listening : Enjoy Every Sandwich: The Songs of Warren Zevon By Various Artists Release date: 19 October, 2004

2:55 PM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Slothophilia
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Pets and Animals

This is for my friend Cosmo, the feral sloth, but I hope that others enjoy my brush with their prehistoric cousins.  

Between college and grad school, I worked as an intern for the Student Conservation Association.  I was making a spectacular $50 a week, living in oppulent semi-condemed National Park Service housing, and Green Day's 'BasketCase' was the top jam at the many, too many house parties among the post-college seasonals.  I was working for the Grand Canyon museum collection housed in the visitor's center (long since moved).  They had me cataloging Anasazi pottery, accessioning tons of materials shipped into us from Harper's Ferry, WV, wrangling the occasional black widow found in the filing cabinets to be admited into thier comparative fauna collection, and reinflating rafts that went down the Colorado River in the 1950s.  It was pretty cool work.  I loved it, I loved the people there, I would pay blood to be back at the canyon.  It's addictive like nothing I've ever experienced before.  It's also where I got to meet the Shasta Giant Ground Sloth

There are many wonderful treasures in the museum collection.  Loads of archaeological showpieces... Anasazi pottery and intricate woven baskets, projectile points and stone tools, split-twig figurines; remains from the historic mining and prospecting periods; there are geological and biological samples galore; even a couple live accessioned peyote buttons in the botanical collection.  

But among all of the assembled treasures, one of the boxes I remember the best contained remains from a Nothrotheriops shastensis, a Shasta Giant Ground Sloth.  There were a few longbones, a skull in wonderful condition, and another archival box beside them.  When I opened it, there was an immediate pong of decaying grass and, inside an archival zip-lock bag was a fist-sized hunk of dung.  Growing up on a cattle farm, I know herbivore shit when I encounter it and this was definitely that kinda scat.  Every time I think about it, my mind kinda breaks into Paul Simon ..."Still pungent after all these years.  Whoa!  Still punget after all these years."

Every time I do some kind of event where people talk about reaching out to encounter the past, I think back on this humble load of leaves that got processed by my 'buddy' and blasted out of his digestive tract somewhere on the order of 25,000-35,000 years ago.  The smell that stretches across the centuries.  Douglas Adams used the term "Magisterial pong" to describe the drains of Labuan Bajo.  I like to apply that to my Quaternary friend's fecal sample. 

The second part of my Sloth experiences at the canyon come from Rampart Cave... a cave on the far west side of the canyon system.  Rampart Cave was the home to the Shasta sloths off and on for many years.  So much so, that much of the floor of Rampart Cave was coted with sloth shit to a depth of 1.2m ... Yeah, 4 food deep sloth shit.  Radiocarbon dates (or as I like to think of it in this instance, Radiocrappin' dates) indicate that they were living in the cave on and off for about 38,000+ years.  The cave was found in the 1930s and samples, including the aforementioned fist-sized chunk and bones were recovered between then and 1942.

Hop forward to the summer of 1976, a couple of vandals broke into Rampart Cave and, probably in accident started a fire.  The fire welled up in the...um, fuel-rich, atmosphere of the cave floor and, despite the good efforts of the NPS trying to get it put out, the nearly four foot depth of sloth shit smouldered on for nearly a full year!  That's right, a hole full of Shasta-poo set on slow burn for a year!!  Sadly, the fire weakened the cave and much of the roof fell in and destroyed the doo-doo deposits.

When you consider the potency of the poopie in the museum collection, kept in it's archival setting for most of the past 5 decades, it must have been a truly amazing experience to have wiffed the conflagrated shit storm that Rampart Cave's burning provided.  It's tragic what a vast storehouse of ecosystem information was lost by the fire.  Pollen, vegetal samples, info on parasites and other buggies associated with, well, the ass-end of the food chain.  It was truly a stinky day for science.

Well, there you go, Cosmo SlothFriend.  I hope you enjoyed my little story about your totem critters.

Currently watching : Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny Release date: 27 February, 2007

11:57 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Duuuuude! I look totally f-ing baked!
Current mood: cranky
Category: Life

Let me start off by saying "Wheee!"

It's four days later and my eyes are still blood red...we are talking no whites showing at all.  I look like the Sticky-Bud King of Killeen.  I went to the doctor this morning and it appears that my super-mondo-pink-eye and allergies are locked in some sort of feedback loop where they are strengthening each other.  They gave me the old steroid boost in the ass and a prescription for a couple of other eye drops. 

The kiddos are doing better.  Lexi started coming down with it over the weekend, but she's done great with taking her eye drops and is mostly better.  The Vile Little Contagion Factory (i.e. Corbin) is doing better, too.  So hopefully, in a day or two, proper occular drainage will be occuring and I won't look like I should be dispensing dime bags.

Currently reading : Animal Architects: Building and the Evolution of Intelligence By James L. Gould Release date: 12 March, 2007

10:52 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

GRAAAAAAAGGHHHHH!!!!
Current mood: irritated
Category: Life

All I can say is "Argh!"  Some sweet little moppet in Corbin's daycare class gave him pink-eye and, like a good little man, he passed it along to me.  It feels like dry Q-Tips are being rubbed along the insides of my eyelids.  Even more annoying than that, Rachel now feels like her eyes might be getting scratchy, so she may be getting it, too.  Of course it could just be sympathy irritation because she feels it most when she looks an my demonically tinted orbs.  As a result of 3/4 of Team Smith possibly being contageous, I had to cancel with my gaming group tonight.  I feel guilty leaving them in a lurch, but I don't think I'll be keeping my eyes open much past when the kids go to bed tonight. 

(As a complete parentetical, I don't blame the kid who gave it to Corbin or her parents... that's just part of the daycare environment.  You get a kid with more socialization (in theory) and you get them exposed to more little bugs and personality flaws of every kind.  Unfortunately one of the big annoyances is that you re-expose yourself to all the same little bugs the darn snot-gurglers pass come home with.  I love 'em, but kids is disgusting critters!)

Currently listening : Fashion Nugget By Cake Release date: 17 September, 1996

1:49 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment