Scrob me

Or whatever. Kids with their new technology and all. So I added a link over to the right under all that iPod business to my last.fm profile. Yes, I am joining the "social music revolution" and as such, I have stolen that sassy little beret that Jodie was wearing (holla, Ms Snarker!) and am now ready to take to the streets. The streets of boogie, that is! Get your freak on, aw yeah, lean back, etc etc. Anyway, yes. So another way to stalk, uh, scrob me? Well, do what you must, I say.

This weekend promises to be warm and sunny and for that, I am thankful. A trip up to Baltimore to wander around is in the cards and it is possible that grass will also be mowed for the first time. Maryland grass. Somewhere out west, 2.5 acres of prairie grass is mocking me. You with your tiny yard you could cut with a pair of scissors. You with your riding lawn mower you promised you'd save only for me. Cut your Maryland grass and know that I shall grow higher and taller and greener and shall smell grassier. This is what you get for leaving me, you ungrateful bitch. Mow off!

Yes, you may question my sanity and maturity (holla, Mrs!) but when grass speaks to you, I shall not judge.

Ok, that's it for this fine Friday. There may/may not be some news coming down the pipeline regarding something or other. I am cryptic for a reason so if it does not come through, your heart will not be broken, just mine and privately. See how I save you from potentially unpleasant stuff? It's all smiles and gay rainbows today so I say scrob on, dude, scrob on!