I was only in Los Angeles for the night. I dropped my suitcase at home, drove to Hollywood and rocked it with my fake rock band until the wee hours. Dana closed out the night as only she can. Props to Josh, Sarah, Scott, Allison and Buster for the background.
I just woke up on the couch. German subtitled movies aren’t so good on a Friday night when you’re ill, unless you want to fall asleep.
I’ve figured out where this cold came from. The recipe:
1. Picket in the rain.
2. Picket in the cold.
3. Picket in the cold with extremely gusty winds with patches of rain.
4. Picket on a day that starts cold, gets really warm and then right when you take off three of your layers it becomes cold and windy again.
5. Play Rock Band for the first time. Your friend says, “I think I’m coming down with something, but first I’m gonna sing the crap out of ‘Creep.'” Once she’s finished, immediately take the microphone from her so you can wail out to ‘Maps.'”
Yes, my weak Picket Lung gave way to Rock Band Flu.
I understand why some women hate video games. There’s a severe zombie-like quality that is necessary for being skilled at them, and for the most part the talent involves knowing when to push a combination of buttons. But this is one of those games that can break down even the strongest hater. Take the other night. I watched this happen to one woman. (These are all pretty close to direct quotes.) Continue reading →