I woke up this morning with The Blow's cover-with-new-lyrics of Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic stuck in my head. It hasn't left. It's really good. The only thing better than women singing about fucking is women singing about fucking with sapphic overtones, I reckon. Song's not on any records, she just did two versions of it live on Monday night. So, it sticks.

I have all my CDs packed. I also had my last class today, a party at the beach followed. I packed while listening to Deerhoof's Milk Man, and the urge to jump up and down and dance and spaz out came.

Watched Rushmore again last night. I had forgotten how it ended, which is a common occurence, but I'd forgotten a lot of the film. Wes Anderson movies get better the more you watch them, funnier. I really need to watch Bottle Rocket again, as that's another one I've mostly forgotten. Ah, Rushmore. I just watched it thinking "This is such a great movie" and laughing at things I didn't laugh at the first time.

Also, if I ever get a book published, I expect everyone reading this to steal a copy. I would give out comp copies, but no, I recommend stealing.