Long Island this weekend wasn't spectacular, nor was it bad. I bought a crossover cable at Best Buy, and transferred about twenty gigabytes of stuff (mostly video) from my previous computer onto this one. I wore the white Borat shirt out again Saturday night, and it drew some laughs and compliments. Allstar played another solid show at Finley's in Huntington. It was my first trip to this venue, and I came away with a good impression, with the exception of the bathroom setup (not only were they too small, they weren't well located). The Minivan o' War was restored to full strength, and she performed beautifully in a grueling Sunday transit back up here to Portsmouth. I hit traffic on four separate occasions, one of which (the Mass Pike) seemed to have no discernible source.
The Submersible Death Trap is, as I type, on its way up here, scheduled to arrive on Wednesday. The crush at work truly begins tomorrow.
There were two weird occurences of note on this day. First, on my way home, I passed a van belonging to Carberry Energy LLC. Not every day you see a vehicle with your last name on the back - well, unless you own a business in your name, like P. C. Richard & Son. Second, as I was getting into my car to go out, I heard a group of young girls screaming a song lyric. After the first line, I had a good idea of what it was, but I continued listening to confirm that it was indeed "Hollaback Girl" by Gwen Stefani. What made it memorable was that they were screaming the bridge, the part about bananas - including the space where a four-letter word is censored in the radio version.
Tonight's purchases from Barnes and Noble: a map of the New Hampshire Seacoast, and the current issue of Playboy. I normally would not contribute money to the Hefner empire, but when he offers up Amanda Beard naked, Danica Patrick nearly naked, and a spread entitled "Girls of Montauk," I am compelled to partake.