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Like tapdancing in an old friend’s kitchen with a leek for a cane, here’s some things that give me pleasure for weird reasons:

• Handmade Music Night goes monthly.  Yes.  Meaning, next one is next Thursday, Dec. 11 at 3rd Ward.  Here, RSVP for the building demo.  It’s some kind of solar noise circuit ball thingy.
• NYTimes comes through with some serious locavore food porn of the written variety.  Something about this article just hit me squarely in the part of wants acres and a smokehouse.
• Elliot Spitzer exists again, minimally, writing a column for Slate.  He makes some real clear-headed points about my underlying fear about all this bailing out, that we’re just propping up a failed system even more, rather than forcing systemic change.  He doesn’t use the phrase “pants-crappingly timid cardboard brains of the powers that be” but he kina hints at it.  Makes some good sense.  Y’know maybe we oughtta elect this guy to some… heyyyy wait a minute…  (he likes the hoo-ers, remember?)
• It is nothing to say that I love this (pdf!), albeit in a completely seperate part of my being than what is currently listening to a Warren Zevon record and using words like ‘albeit’.  I have a very minimal ideal of who N.O.R.E. is but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t matter.  Oh yeah, and that’s NSFW or for anybody who can’t read Vice Do’s and Don’ts without gasping.  (Speaking of which… damn, there goes my evening everytime I remember those exist)
• I think someone out there in the multiverse there exists a version of me that up and built a few temples out of beer bottles.  The notion just speaks to me.  And what the hell, Heineken? Do you just come up with good ideas to hate them or do you all drink so much of your own sun-ruined skunk lager that you forget the awesome thoughts you were having?

Excitable boy, they all said.  Gotta go pack for Rochester Quest II: The ‘Chestering!