Como Esta bitches?

My body physically returned from my memorial day vacation in San Diego Tuesday evening, but there's no question that my mind is still swirling with visions of palm trees, desert cliffs, california fast food joints, and if you'll allow me to be brunt: just barely not naked girls on the beach.

New York has neither palm trees nor cliffs. The fast food joints aren't really even that cheap and are no doubt rat infested... and the girls here are very much not wearing bikinis. I guess I can excuse that, it's not really acceptable to strut your stuff down 5th in a bikini... although there was that one time I saw bikini models doing that promotion in Soho...

See? I told you. The mind is a-swirling and I expect that it'll take me a few days to get it back to the norm: 100% miserable, working 9 hour days, and getting 6 hours of sleep every night.

Cell phone images are here. Digital camera photos will soon follow. **

I will spend the majority of this weekend down in my parents basement with Jimmy and Jeff recording the band's demos. We'll be recording four songs, which I hope to follow up with writing 3 or 4 more rather quickly which will enable us to learn a few covers and hopefully play a few shows thereafter.

We still don't have a name... I'll reluctantly list the two that I can ever remember being considered: The Palisades (geographically appropriate and not too shabby sounding.. although it may imply a more smoother type of sound than we actually have) and The Death of Fun (which accurately describes where the three of us are pretty sure we're at in our lives but might imply that we slaugher baby calves while performing, which is untrue). I figure that no matter what we go with I'll dislike it, feel awkward saying it out loud, etc. But you've gotta buck up sometime.. and I imagine we'll have bucked up within the next few days. --