Well, there it is. I know what you are thinking. Yes, we went that far. I know there were doubters, and unbelievers, but we showed them. That right there, is a man fighting a car. Never forget, Dear Hearts, that we here at No Reason have the market cornered on stupid, and we and not giving an inch back. Nay-nay I says, nay-nay.
So two things of intrest have been going on here at No Reason HQ. The first is the addition to our vast DVD library of Scrubs: Season 5. If you haven’t been following this show over the years, you should be beaten with a sack full of oranges, rotten if possible. OK, That might be a bit much, but check out the damn show. It is by far the best thing on TV, and the DVDs make for an enjoyable watching experience not seen since I got my greasy mitts on Season 3 of 24.
The other thing is something that I have been doing over the last few nights, and hope to make a ritual of. No, not THAT nightly ritual you jerks, but rather one that I hope will yield some creative results. For the last couple nights around 10pm, I drag the old (and I mean OLD) laptop out onto the front porch of No Reason HQ, and I sit under the stars and write. I love the way this city feels at night, especially after midnight or so. It becomes so quiet and still, even though we live on a fairly major street. It just feels like the city is getting ready to secretly regenerate for another day, and its incredibly good for the creative juices. I’ve managed to jot down some notes on some yet-to-be-named projects, and hopefully something good will come out of them. For now though, I gotta say it just feels good to write. And to steal Wi-Fi. But that’s neither here nor there.
Finally, if I could give a quick plug to some good friends, if you are in the Greater Toronto Area and looking for some way to revive that fading rock and roll music in your heart, turn this Wednesday, July 18, 2007 to the Horseshoe Tavern. There, a talent group of miscreants by the name of SCOBO will be taking the stage, and doing their best to rip your collective faces off. Come one, come all, come Rock, come Roll.
Ironing my “going out” sideburns,
-MM
