Steppin' Out

Tonight, dearest Mick finds herself without a husband-slash-date, so, for my birthday, she is taking me to the Paramount to see Sarah Vowell. Huzzah!

As previously mentioned, Assassination Vacation was one of the best books I read over the summer. Like David Sedaris, her writing style is what I aspire to - she's morbid, obsessive, and hysterically funny. (Anybody have Amy Sedaris's new book yet? It looks like I'd like that one, too.)

And, of course, tomorrow...it's the wurst little celebration in Texas, y'all! Oh, come on down to New Braunfels and join us and about 5000 of our closest friends as we drink beer, eat sausage, and ride carnival rides to the point - and yea, at times, over the point - of vomiting.

Come on, let's put our children's lives in the hands of stoned carnies! It'll be fun!

(And is it just me, or is there something kind of icky looking about this, the "official" image of Wurstfest? It kind of looks like a party at Mark Foley's house, to me.)

Come to think of it, pity me. I'll be the one driving home, as I drew the short straw this year. It sucks to be the sober one amongst a group of lushes and neer-do-wells.