Roky Erickson is playing in the Royal Festival Hall right now. It's the first time he's played in this country, and frankly it's a miracle that it's happening. I should be there. I should be coming home later to write one of those drunken, gushing, rambling posts about how great he was, how wonderful it was to see him functional and rocking. But I'm not. I'm stuck here with a disgusting cold, barely able to speak and feeling wretched. It sucks, like a big fat sucky thing.
Monday, June 18, 2007
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4 comments:
That's kind of how I felt when I heard (a day late) that Interpol was playing a super secret London gig that I'd never get to attend.
If it's any consolation: big fat sucky things don't tend to last forever...?
:o( Bad luck. Hope to see you back soon.
I'm at home with the same crappy illness. It stinks.
Thank you for your good wishes, all. I'm now back at work, which is good in that I'm feeling better, but bad in that I'm back at work.
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