I Am A Cliche.

The Capitol Hill Block Party is on this weelend, and so far it hasn't really interfered with my weekend. Although extracting myself from the Lifelong Aids Alliance Blowout Sale proved tricky. Tickets are really cheap, but you can hear the mainstage from my living room so if anyone wants to save a few sheckles just plop yourself down on my Lillborg Sofa.

Last night was Menomena, Girl Talk, Les Savy Fav, and Vampire Weekend. In that order. Someone asked me if I liked Vampire Weekend, and the only thing I could get out was "not as much as Los Compesinos!" I blew my chance to see them because Pony was doing something else. Probably barbequeing. They'd get out of their death beds to flame broil something that once walked these majestic lands. Anyway, tonight I'm only going to see Chromeo and The Hold Steady. DevotchKA, or however you write their name, can get fucked as far as I'm concerned. Galerias is doing a Sunday brunch and I am not going to be stung out and deaf for that.


This weekend the Yankees are playing the Fuck Tards, and as you would imagine, attendance at The Capitol Hill Block Party is a little sparse, but today's game starts a little early so hopefully the crowds will be on hand to support their independent, soon to be broke and irrelevant, bands. Last night the Yankees eaked out a 1-0 win, and if any of you were wondering if Kevin Youklis was acting like a horse's ass, well, gee, what can I say, douche like that never disappoint.

Actually all of them, everyone on the Tard roster, is a fundamentally disappointing human being. The other day, I saw a dad walking with his two sons. Both his sons had Tard hats on. I would have called Child Protective Services, but I don't just walk around with that number in my wallet. Hindsight is a bitch.