That's what I get for taking the back roads home from work rather than the interstate.
And tonight I just finished watching the new-ish Todd Solondz movie Storytelling while my darling wife took to bed early with a headache.
I've been reading Bound For Glory by Woody Guthrie and Kink by Dave Davies. Bound For Glory is really good. Kink, which I thought I would like the best of the two, sucked.
The only really good part was when he confessed that he had been visited by some lifeforms that did not communicate with him through sight nor sound but, rather, by smell. And these smells gave him the secret to unleashing happy thoughts on any given crowd of people on earth.
What an ass.
Here I am thinking I'm gonna get a good inside read of the history of the Kinks and all I got was some fruity new age fuck talking about karma and alien smelly lifeforms and how many women (and men) he's bedded in his illustrious career as a dickweed.
I'm going to bed.