Turkeys, VietNam

Well, there are turkeys in Albert Lea, Minnesota, the little town five minutes from my parents' wonderful home, the house at which I went through puberty. These turkeys sold my parents some sort of satellite broadband internet crap which is barely working. Or maybe my parents are the turkeys for buying it. But you can't blame them-- after going twelve years using dial-up internet, first at 14.4 baud and then for the last ten years at 56kbps [umm, compare that to the 5mbps or ~28'000kbps a lot of us with cable have]. Although when I lived here, the McCormick place never saw a download speed reach higher than 1 twpm [one topless woman per minute]. That made the whole post-puberty thing that much rougher.

But now, whether it's the recent snow or the morons who installed the satellite [probable] or the non-expert [me] who installed the wi-fi [highly unlikely], the internets are at a crawl.

So because of this, I can't be bothered to give [m]any updates. That's why yesterday saw my first post-less day since starting this thing! And I could hear your collective wail-- it sounded like those three little mice on the Babe movies.

Alrighty.. now I'm gonna go lie down on the carpet while the tryptophan and Guinness and pecan pie and rutabaga and champagne and crappy merlot all duke it inside my bloated little tummy. And hope that my niece and nephew don't come and jump on my bloatedness.

Happy Turkey Day, everybody.

Good music to come soon..

..I promise.

Oh ok, you can have one tip right now. If you haven't heard these guys already, go check out VietNam. Just Tuesday, for the first time, I put on their latest album and was diggin on it on the drive to my parents' turkey farm. These guys didn't just pull their name from their stoned asses; this album sounds as if it's been in a vault for thirty-five years. Enjoy.

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