weak-ending

Drinking Royal Tea doesn't make me nostalgic for the dacha and the Russian countryside as I come from a long line of peons who've had most big decisions in life made for them, but in a few minutes I'll be running to catch the bus home to change into my oh-so-comfy weekend garb to pick up some of the projects I've been working on, celebrate sundry birthdays and hopefully do some writing in between a fill-in Saturday night slot where I won't be playing exclusive stoner rock but will at least keep it noisy and distortion drenched, and checking up on the sick kitty.

More Alice in honor of artistic projects and absurdity.