My hovercraft is full of eels.

For reasons to be explained in a later post (once I have been fed) I am in a foul mood. I have also had a beer. Then comes a knock at the door.

Me: "Yes?"
Nice-looking young woman: "Ah, habla Espanol?"
Me: "No... Sprechen sie Deutsches?"
NLYW: "Uh?
Me: "Sprechen sie Deutsches?"
NLYW: "No Espanol?
Me: "Parlez-vous Français ?"

She flees.

Ich bin eine Drohung.

It's not often I can accurately describe my day as "blood-soaked"...

But I managed to nearly crush the pinkie on my left hand. As it is, it merely bled a lot and hurts like hell.

The entire day was like that.

But now I have a three day weekend. Monday is National People Who Cannot Remember When The Megadeth/Heaven&Hell Concert Is And Ask For The Wrong Day Off Day.

I'm so freaking tired I don't really care about the Giants game. Bed soon.

It's eighties music video night!

Don't ask me how this became a tradition.

Last time, we visited my hippie side. Tonight? The Metal Gods.

Yes, we thought he was straight.

And even better... The Priest live at the 1983 US Festival. I'm somewhere in that crowd.

Yes, we still thought he was straight.