Remember the weight of the world is the sound we used to buy/On cassette and 45

I know this blog has sucked lately, my little cumquats, and I promise to try harder in the future. But, yet, while I can apologize 'til my fingers are blue in the tips, you, gentle reader, have not exactly seduced me into increasing my output. I have received zero legitimate advice-seeking emails. And that fucking hurts, my little chickadees. So, as a last ditch effort, I'm changing my official Wyld Stallyns blog email address. Perhaps the original one was a bit too controversial. But, on the other hand, you are, hopefully on an increasingly routine basis typing a URL into your web browser of choice that reads suspiciously like a gay porn website, if you really think about it. So, for all blog-related purposes, including those poor souls seeking life-changing advice, my new email address is: seacrest_out@email.com (note the underbar)

Here's why this summer will rule: June 11-17 I'm going on vacation. And, though I've been to various locales throughout the years, and have gone weeks and even months without working, this will be the first time that I will be taking 'vacation days' while taking a week off. This means I don't have to go into work for a week, BUT I STILL GET PAID AS USUAL!!! How amazing is that!!! Think about it for a second: Last week I worked my ass off, my-new-contact-lens-wearing-eyes were burned out of their sockets staring at the computer. And the week of June 13-17 I won't work a single minute. And I'll get paid the exact same amount! Wowzers!!! To make matters more interesting, I'll be spending my time off in New York City, where my goal will be to not sleep the entire time (though, after tickets were booked, I found out I'd by missing concerts here by Spoon, Sleater-Kinney, and Ted Leo/Rx. drag.) And, even weirder yet, I must shamefully admit that it will mark my first time ever on an airplane. And while on that airplane, I shall drink liquor for the first time ever, and also have first-time-ever-sex in the bathroom. It will be the day I finally become a man, June 11, mark yr calendars y'all.

Also, summer goodness: July 16-17 is the intonation music festival in chicago, curated by the snobbish kids at the great indie music zine Pitchfork. Some great bands and it's only 10 bucks a day, pay at the entrance. And the next week is Lollapolooza, which is a million (i.e. 5) times more expensive, and the lineup isn't exactly that wonderful so far, but i've never been to any sort of huge summer music festival type thing before, so I figured the experience would be worth the 100-dollar two day pass. Anyone who wants to come can crash on my floor. Plus, the Pixies are playing!

But, reasons the summer might suck include: this. Any further two-week lapses in blogging can be attributed to me getting my ass kicked by a group of angry 14-year olds.

In more boring news: Last weekend I went on the Miller Brewery tour in Milwaukee, which was pretty cool for a free thing, and I learned from an informative video (narrated by High-Life-voice-over-guy turned dirty republican-campaign-ad-voice-over-guy) that 'Millertime' is the time when good times turn into great times, meaning, judging by the images in the informative video, at the precise moment when you are out at the bars with your wingman, when the girl you are eyeing up decides to sleep with you. I also got three free beers.

Later this month I'll be making my first ever business trip, to Fort Wayne, Indiana. Remember, kids: What happens in Fort Wayne, stays in Fort Wayne.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to my first ever work-related conference. It is less than a mile away from my building, but at least I get to miss a half-day because of it. I plan on composing future blog posts on my legal pad, just for you!

David Gordon Green's Undertow is now available on DVD, and well worth checking out. Buy All the Real Girls first though. Sleater-Kinney's new album, out May 24th, is one of the hardest rocking albums I've ever heard. I love the new Spoon (out next Tuesday) except I've listened to it so much on my iPod that I equate it with making the commute to work. My plan to become healthy and then, eventually, huge with muscle-mass, has hit a snag, as today my bike-riding warmup hit a snag when my right knee freaked-out big time. So I came back downstairs, though if anyone asks, I can bench 225.

And, finally and most self-involved, Wednesday is my 26th birthday (I know you forgot, fuckers). M says she has made secret plans for me that night (i'm guessing dinner at a soul food restaurant) and also sunday the 8th. I'm hoping the sunday means a ticket to the Built to Spill show, and not a trip to the aquarium, but I'm not getting my hopes up at all.