People still wear cargo pants, wtf

Lovely Sunday night.

Began with Distress Call at the Rob Roy. Awesome. A funny old man made his way to the front and danced by himself with his eyes closed. I'd like to say this was a beautiful moment but all I could think was, "Oh, how cliche!" and roll my eyes to myself in my head. Aside from the old man, without hesistation, I say Tim was the standout star of the gig; I like it when rockstars wear their glasses, he had the sexiest guitar, he can really really play and was the only one who's guitar matched his outfit.

Met Anastacia, Simon and Georgia at Black Cat and discovered Miso. Miso, a gorgeous array of dubby- trip hoppy sounds joined by a darling, almost jazz, singer who dances and charms while supported by various strings and the sweetest percussion. We stayed for this and we'll probably come back for another dose. If you have nothing to do every second Sunday night, have little money and I don't know, maybe your pillow is too soft for early nights and giving you that sinking feeling, come out ad see ( and maybe see me see) Miso at Black Cat, it's a really good idea.

Went to the Yacht Club because they are our friends and no matter what we do there it never costs us more than $20 all together for some reason. Good for us, huh, maybe bad for business. Oh well, it was grand. Or at least, having been drinking since 5pm, we thought we were grand. Luke began to take particular interest in other patrons fashion sensibilities, when a rather ordinary individual made an appearance and shouted something suitably forgettable Luke exclaimed back and over the top "People still wear cargo pants, what the fuck?!". I know it must have been a good night because at the time we thought this was the sharpest pinnacle of wit and finnished the night somewhere around here laughing hysterically. HA Ha ha!

And also:
We have a new friend, Matt, from Louisiana (yes, it's true, a real live American just like on tv) Yay!.